Chapter 52: To the Mooooon! (2/2)

“What difference does it make?” Vainqueur asked, curious.

“This is a bigger replica of the Wind Spear Maure used against us! It’s a weapon, not a transporter!”

“Our Sunslayer was built purely for non-threatening purposes,” the dwarf replied with a flat tone. “We have absolutely no intention of attacking anyone with it.”

“There are bombs on this thing!” Manling Victor protested. “I can smell the gunpowder from there!”

“Bombs are people too, Lord Victor. They react to imperialist aggression by blowing themselves up, true, but who is to say they should be barred from boarding a rocket—”

“A missile.”

“Certainly travel should be allowed to everyone, even bombs. And I can assure you that our rocket never exploded in the past.”

“Wait... I received complains of quakes while we were away,” Manling Victor said. “That was your doing?”

“Our rocket never blew up. It was sabotaged by elf bourgeois infiltrators before the flight because they feared the revolution.”

“Furibon,” Vainqueur guessed. “He is already at work among us!”

“Right,” Manling Victor said with a strange tone.

“And as you pointed out if we manage to send someone up, it must survive in a vacuum,” Marbré insisted. “Bombs are small and do not breathe.”

“What does size have to do with this?” Vainqueur asked with a worried frown.

“Our device needs gravity powerstones, which are extremely rare, to propel itself past the clouds,” Marbré replied. “The more weight, the more stones needed. We cannot afford to waste any of our supply, so the prototype should be able to fly small passengers before we create a model sized for Your Majesty. And unfortunately, none of our test pilots survived the tests so far. This slows down progress.”

“Yeah, speed hurts,” Victor said, ”There were a few victims in the space race at home, and while we don't have magic, we are way ahead of this world in matters of technology.”

”It will take us years, if not decades, to create a rocket capable of reaching the Mooooon, but it would be much faster if we had pilots who could survive test flights,” Marbré said, ”We need a test subject who is highly resistant to physical damage, does not need to breathe, and small enough to fit in a very narrow space. Such creatures aren’t raining—”

Vainqueur’s eyes widened. “Minions, they do!”

“Babies?”

“To send to the Moon,” Victor replied to his pet. That exchange sounded a lot better in his mind.

After the whole jelly rain fiasco, Victor had turned one of the farms into an improvised shelter, which Junior had turned into its new lair. While Akhenapep had advised to distribute cats to control the population, Murmurin’s citizens had instead latched onto jellies. Slimes had become popular pets, and those eager to adopt one had to first gain Junior’s trust before they could return home with it. Victor counted thousands of the tiny creatures looking at Vainqueur in awe from behind a fence.

“Moon sky?” Junior pointed a finger at the clouds.

“Yes, the planet,” Vainqueur invited himself in the conversation.

“No!” Junior hissed in response, moving between Vainqueur and the fence. “Children!”

“Okay, I will not lie, the dwarf’s device looks shoddy,” Victor admitted. “But I will have Barnabas help. We will make sure our tester is as safe as possible.”

“Minion, stop arguing with your pet, this is ridiculous,” Vainqueur cut in, the dragon turning to Junior. “I understand that you wish to protect your progeny, but this is for my own good.”

Strangely, Junior seemed to hesitate at Vainqueur's words, but still didn't bulge. “Danger!”

While Vainqueur glanced down at the mimic with annoyance, Victor’s mind furiously worked on finding a peaceful solution before the dragon ate his own pet for the defiance. Fortunately, the sound of a large crowd stepping towards them interrupted the argument.

The second he recognized the newcomers, Victor suppressed a sigh of agony.

“Prophet, we have heard of your divine mission, and have come to offer our help!” The cult of the Moon Man had gathered, from its squid priest to its lowest member. Worse, they had grown in numbers, followers of the deity from all across the Mistral Continent having traveled to Murmurin to follow in their prophet’s footsteps. “We shall all give our hands for the creation of the glorious ark!”

“Guys, thanks, but this is a very delicate matter,” Victor said, trying to let them down gently. They had become relatively harmless since he laid down rules for them to follow, but their zealousness frightened him a bit. “We are just figuring out a way to—”

“I offer my child!” A squid-like humanoid presented Victor with a viscous tadpole. “He is moist and ready for the sacrifice!”

”Sacrifices are forbidden!” another cultist replied. ”Learn the proper doctrine!”

“I will gladly offer my jelly pet Finky as the chosen slime!” A werewolf presented Victor with a pink slime, slipping through his fingers. “Please, bless him!”

“Take my life if needed!” A werewolf all but threw herself at his feet. “I am ready to be martyred, so my children can reach the Promised Land!”

“Me first!” The cultists all but began to shove one another out of the way.

“Friend Victor, how great that you have found such zealous minions,” Vainqueur spoke up with appreciation, “I am so proud.”

Victor closed his eyes and sighed. He was starting to wonder if he should go Old Testament on them; a lot of prophets didn’t show as much patience as he did with this insanity.

No seriously, how could this madness end well?

“Moon!”

A cute, kitten-like voice made itself heard, Victor glancing at its source; the cultists fell silent to imitate him.

A blue jelly with two big, yellow eyes, had jumped on the fence. “Moon!” it said, before hopping at Victor’s feet. “Moon!”

“Danger!” Junior shouted back at the jelly with a disapproving voice.

“Adventure!”

“Young!”

“Stars! Dream!”

“Family!”

Victor watched Junior and the jelly have a heated one-word argument, unable to fully understand the gist of it. From afar, it did look like the discussion he once had with his parents about abandoning his stupid dreams about becoming a professional Youtuber to go to university.

“Moon moon!” The slime was a lot better at arguing back than Victor ever was though. ”Sword rocket!”

“Sword rocket?” This argument took Junior aback, the chest turning to Victor. “Sword rocket?”

What? What did he miss? “It’s, uh, it’s pointy yes.” Wait, how did it know? Did the slime watch the tests?

“Sword rocket…” Junior turned back towards its adopted child, “Moon?”

“Moon,” the jelly replied with steely determination in its cute, tiny eyes.

“Back,” Junior pleaded. “Alive.”

“Sword live,” the jelly replied with a kind, affectionate tone. Junior patted it on the head, the creature turning to Victor next, “Moon?”

“Uh…” At this point, Victor had abandoned all hope of making sense out of it. “Yes, you will go to the Moon. One day. Maybe.”

It would probably take years, if not decades, for their ‘space program’ to reach it even with magic, but with Vainqueur and a deity dead-set on the idea… they had to succeed eventually.

“Moon!”

“The chosen jelly will lead us to the Moooon!” the cultists cheered the jelly and began to utter prayers to their god. “Lä Moon Man cf’ayak’vulgtmm, vugtlagln vulgtmm!”

Congratulations! Thanks to your encouragement, Buzz Jelly gained a level in [Stuntman]!

“Mooooon...” The blue slime gazed at the skies with longing.