The days pass on peacefully for Rimuru, and his new monster town is coming along quite nicely, but there are whispers on the wind of a goblin army which threatens to obliterate him and all his hard work. Rather than taking the offensive to save his settlement, he devotes his time to leveling up his new orc party mates. Also, there are lizardmen.
There’s six of them total, and they don’t receive equal treatment, but they serve their various roles in the village, and since most of this series’s emphasis is placed on action and battle preparation, it’s a no-brainer to hazard that the ogres which receive the most limelight are the combative ones. They’re a joy to watch, since they’re so overpowered, but all of them are an efficient bunch. They start off with their lows, and then their character arcs wrap up nicely with barely a lifted elbow from them.
They’re an additional factor in the orc conundrum, and while I personally find them to be the least memorable aspect of this volume, I like their inclusion for the simple fact that they add a dash of complexity to the plot. It keeps things from becoming drab. It’s kind of like the difference between eating toast and eating toast with butter.
The Big Climatic Moment?
The reason the orcs are rampaging in mass is because of the birth of an Orc Lord, and the book spends some 200-odd pages hyping him up, and there’s even this badass illustration for when he raises his dukes. However, his actual debut happens a few pages before, and he spends the time until then standing in a daze like he had just finished a joint before showing up.
Pretty much the same as the debut volume. It’s got its faults, but it’s also got its strengths, and you can’t go too wrong with it. The highlights for me had to be when the ogres broke out their whips to tenderize some juicy gluts.