Tensei Shitara Slime Datta Ken (LN) - Volume 13 - Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

THE ASSAULT BEGINS

All the monsters on the battlefield accepted the words of their lord and ally Rimuru with their souls, the words of an absolute ruler who accepted all their loyalty and trust. Then another voice commanded them.

“The disguise operation is canceled. Crush the fools bothering Sir Rimuru’s mind until nothing remains of them.”

With this, there was nothing left to bind the monsters. Joy filled their hearts, and they relied upon pure impulse to unleash their magic force. The demonic auras they had suppressed so as not to affect the town they lived in were now fully released, and the concentration of magicules around them shot upward.

There was nothing to be afraid of anymore as they let their deepest impulses drive them across the battlefield…

Gobta, too, heard the order as the shells kept raining down.

“Finally! But it doesn’t look like we’ve achieved our goals yet. Is that okay?”

He was talking to himself, but his second-in-command, Gobchi, responded.

“Well, what’s the problem? The plan was to persevere and make the opponent show off all their latent force, but at this rate, we’re going to dwindle down to nothing. We have to scare them a little, or nobody strong’s going to come out for us.”

“That’s how it is?”

“That’s how it is.”

Gobta and Gobchi were having this conversation in the middle of a battlefield, bombarded by shells and shock waves. Those watching were impressed by their ability to hear, although they were well used to their supremely relaxed attitudes by now.

“If it were us, y’know, the strongest guys would jump out first, but…”

“Well, put it that way, Gobta, and aren’t you one of the Big Four?”

“Hey! All right, maybe, but I’m still the weakest of them. Seriously, stop bringing that up…”

As they conversed, Gobta, Gobchi, and the Goblin Riders under them were seething more than ever before. Everyone was waiting for the order from Gobta to come down.

Shells rained down on regular occasions, deliberately and precisely, as if aimed at a dartboard—and they were throwing a dozen darts at once. From the beginning, the intention wasn’t to score a direct hit, but to wipe them all out with the shock waves.

The Goblin Riders, realizing this, were on the move in search of shelter. A direct hit would kill them instantly, but on the other hand, anything else was survivable. Everyone here was powerful enough to rank as lieutenant in the Tempest force, meaning an A-minus equivalent in rank. Even if they were seriously hurt, a little potion would take care of it.

Based on this, Benimaru’s strategy was to feign defeat. There was no need to actually lose, of course—just pretend to be in a crisis. In the meantime, the remaining troops were to block the imperial army’s retreat and counterattack at once. If they waited until the tanks ran out of ammunition, the strongest people on their side would come to finish them off—Benimaru put it in the simplest terms possible.

Gobta, of course, wanted to voice a few complaints about that, but an order was an order, and he couldn’t disobey it. The imperial army wasn’t nearly as much of a threat as Benimaru in his mind.

I mean, Benimaru’s usually a real nice guy…but when it comes to military stuff, he’s merciless. And this time, even Sir Rimuru’s safety is at stake. There’s no way somebody like me could speak out against it.

Those were Gobta’s memories about when he was told about the plan. Convincing his Goblin Riders to follow it was a pain, but once he mentioned Rimuru’s name, they stopped complaining.

All that was left was to overwhelm the enemy in the first engagement, but as expected, that was asking a bit too much. As soon as their attempted breakthrough was blocked, Gobta’s force decided to stick to their original decoy role. But that’s over now. Rimuru had given his statement—and Benimaru followed it up with new orders. No need to hold back. The time had come for them to unleash all the power they possessed.

(Okay, you now have permission to attack freely. The Green Numbers are Hakuro’s responsibility, so they’re good, but for now, I’m leaving you Riders to Gobchi.)

He sent out a Thought Communication to his squadmates, face stiffened. His tone of voice was as usual, but it had an unmistakable power to it.

(Roger that! So what are you doing, General Gobta?) Gobchi asked, shrugging. Gobta replied with a troubled-looking smile:

(Well, I can’t play around anymore, either, y’know? I don’t care about that Big Four stuff, but it’s an order from Sir Rimuru, and I can’t act like a wimp when he’s watching me! I’m gonna get real serious now!)

Gobchi and the rest of the team looked into Gobta’s eyes. Immediately, they knew he was serious—the kind of seriousness they almost never saw in their boss.

“Heh. I know what you’re capable of. Go ahead. Don’t hesitate to use it.”

(Why are you acting so bossy?)

(Y-you heard that?)

(Well, it’s fine and all, Gobto, but you do your best, too, okay?)

(Heh… Of course.)

Gobta gave this a tired sigh. Gobto had been on the team since its early days; they had known each other a while by now. He was good in his own way, but thanks to absorbing a lot of unnecessary knowledge from Rimuru, he had a tendency to act all cool when it wasn’t called for. Way back when, he had imitated Gobta’s aide Gobchi, but now he had evolved in his own unique way. He was wearing a long black coat with two longswords that he didn’t even know how to use fully. Gobta wondered if he was safe out here, but he figured that with Gobchi around, it’d probably work out.

After making up his mind on that, Gobta turned to the person he had to worry about the most—Testarossa, still sitting behind him.

(So along those lines, Testarossa, I’d like us to go our separate ways from here, if that’s okay?)

Testarossa nodded, smiling. Even in the midst of these flames and concussive impacts, her graceful gestures remained intact, her military uniform still clean. Soot and dust would never stain Testarossa.

(Yes, of course. I feel the same way as you. From now, I will act not as an observer, but as an individual living under Sir Rimuru. Please do your best, all of you.)

So Testarossa got off Ranga, and with a final “Good day to you,” she breezily walked away. Rimuru had attached her to Gobta as an observer, but that role was now over. The lethally dangerous demon was now on the move.

She sure is a free spirit, ain’t she? a dismayed Gobta thought, but he didn’t say it out loud. He had grown up at least enough to know saying that was a bad idea.

After seeing Testarossa off, he decided it was his turn.

(All right, everyone… Begin!)

(((Yeaaahhh!!)))

He gave the order to his troops, finding the response satisfactory enough. Even Gobta wanted Rimuru to see how cool he was. He liked Rimuru. He was selfish and more than a little mean, but at the same time, he was always so kind and worth relying on. He admired her. He was once just this tiny little goblin, but he had grown to a fairly famed warrior. Now it was time for him to repay that favor.

(The Riders are yours, Gobchi!)

He turned toward Ranga.

“Now it’s your turn, Ranga! Transform!!”

The shouted order was answered by Ranga, who had been lying in wait all this time. “I’ve been waiting for this moment, Gobta. Let us show our powers to Sir Rimuru, my master!”

The two fighters’ consciousnesses synched together as they released their inner magic power. The next moment, a black mist enveloped Gobta.

“Come on! Let’s go wild!”

“Yes. I’ve been holding back for so long!”

The mist disappeared as if it had been sucked into Gobta. It revealed a goblin fighter infused with a black wolf—a humanoid wolf with two ominous horns. Gobta and Ranga had Unified, and only now could they be called part of the Big Four without a trace of irony.

The moment they saw him, Gobchi and the rest of the Goblin Riders rushed out of their hiding spot.

(Don’t get in Captain Gobta’s way! He’s fighting serious now!)

Gobchi’s desperate shout expressed just how endangered the goblins were at the moment. The demon wolf’s fists, for example, were literally swatting down flying tank shells from the air. In fact, even a direct hit didn’t singe his reinforced black fur. These massive bullets, running just under six times the speed of sound and boasting incredible destructive energy, couldn’t even dent Gobta now that Ranga’s “armor” was on him. That was a by-product of Ranga’s own Multilayer Barrier, but for the unwitting imperial troops, he was nothing but a walking nightmare.

“Wh-what is that? Am I dreaming, or…?”

“You sure aren’t! It’s a monster! I can’t believe the kinds of freaks that demon lord has working for him!”

Panic was beginning to set in among the lower-ranked privates. Among the troops in the tanks—stuck together and unable to move—the fear was even greater.

With a howl from Gobta, Dark Lightning stormed down from the sky above the tank crews. One thousand tanks had transformed into a fortress, and now they were ripe targets. The dark strikes interfered with the tanks’ defensive barriers, emitting a blinding light as they did. They withstood the barrage for a few moments, but it seemed its resistance to electricity was less than perfect. The crew inside the tanks seemed to be safe, but the infantry nearby, in formation with the tank wall behind them, suffered incalculable damage.

But Dark Lightning was dangerous not just for the shock it carried. The essence of it was even more terrifying than natural lightning.

“Ah! Hot! This has to be seriously damaging the tank’s defensive mechanism…!”

“A-all teams, evacuate! Evacuate your tanks at once!”

Although the crews were saved from being electrocuted, the heat the bolts generated were too much for the tanks to bear. Even after the first cracks appeared, the Dark Lightning wasn’t done yet. Like a living, thinking snake, it continued to bite into the inorganic metal plating, causing serious damage to the mechanical parts inside.

One after another, the tanks exploded in flames. With a thunderous rumble, they breathed their last.

In this situation, the tanks that had been linked together to form a fortress were now nothing more than death traps. The crews desperately abandoned them, scattering to avoid being caught in a lightning strike. Military command was a thing of the past for them, and they felt and acted every bit like a defeated army.

They were sure no big deal…

Gobta smiled as he observed the scene. As he saw it, the power he and his cohort wielded was more than enough to face up to this foe. That, and the enemy’s main force—the original target of this operation—no longer seemed threatening in this demon-wolf form.

He looked at the wall of tanks towering in front of him. The wall that once blocked their way was belching black smoke from Ranga’s lightning. Without hesitation, he let out a roar—a Voice Cannon—and instantly, it shattered the wall.

On the other side, he could see a line of tanks pointing their muzzles at him.

(More than enough to play with, huh? This is where we come in!)

(That’s right. I’m sure Sir Rimuru will love watching this.)

Gobta and Ranga gave each other contented nods. So they began.

Without further hesitation, Gobta dived through the burned-out wall of tanks, wholly unafraid of the vast forces awaiting him. Then he ran across the battlefield with all his might. He exceeded the speed of sound, making it impossible for the imperials to follow with the naked eye.

“Just you see what Ranga and I have been working on in training! How long can you keep up with us, huh? Dance…with Wolves!!”

A dark gale rushed across the battlefield. With it, a destructive sonic boom slammed itself against the tank troops.

The shock wave included the magical effect of the Storm of Destruction skill. Gradually, the storm grew to a tornado, a Dragonstorm of Destruction whose well-calculated movements were honed for maximum enemy casualties. That was Dance with Wolves, Gobta’s fearsome anti-army annihilator.

And with that, one corner of the battlefield had effectively collapsed.

As Gobta was beginning his rampage on the ground, changes were also occurring in the sky. It was the Third Corps, led by Gabil.

………

……

…

Following Benimaru’s order, Gabil and his team had been providing cover for the Goblin Riders. Once that became too difficult, they moved on to the next mission, never panicking. In other words, they were part of the same “pretend to lose” strategy Gobta was in on.

The strategy was to make the enemy play their trump cards by maintaining a stalemate while making it look like they were about to lose. It was a pretty wild idea—but Benimaru ordered it nonetheless, not looking concerned at all, and Gobta and Gabil accepted it without a second thought. If things got really dangerous for Gabil, they had permission to evacuate—only after they helped Gobta’s force retreat, of course. Gabil didn’t think that would be necessary, though. After all, despite all his protests, Gobta was still smirking at the idea of executing this op.

Gabil thought he could learn a lot from Gobta’s brashness, but as it turned out, they were quite similar in many ways. Even in this state of affairs, he was still looking to shoot down an airship if he could. As long as he could maintain the stalemate without too much effort, he didn’t see a problem with inflicting some damage on his opponent.

That was the idea behind their aerial approach, but the enemy turned out to be stronger than he thought. Their corps’ magic didn’t work, and the Wyvern Riders’ fireball attacks were similarly blocked. With their air dominance now gone, Gabil’s team was at a distinct disadvantage.

Our role is to attract the airships’ attention. If we fought with all our might without minding the consequences, it’s not impossible to bring them down, but…

Yes, Gabil and the rest of Team Hiryu might have been able to break through the airships’ defenses. But doing that would make it impossible to continue the mission…and so Gabil decided now was the time for patience.

Thus he followed Benimaru’s orders, gladly accepting the role of a sitting duck in the air. The problem with this was the Wyvern Riders and their lack of durability. They might’ve been the elites from the Blue Numbers, but they hadn’t evolved into dragonewts the way Gabil and his corps had. Their magic resistance was low, and if they were caught up in a large-scale magical attack, they’d be brutally shot down.

So Gabil decided to ask the Wyvern Riders to withdraw.

“Lady Ultima, I have a favor to ask.”

“What is it?”

“I wish to have us continue our ‘pretend-to-lose’ strategy…but I am thinking about upping the performance.”

“Upping the performance?”

“Yes. If we keep flitting around like this, I’m not sure the enemy will ever let their guards down. Therefore, I’d like to have Team Hiryu leave itself more open to magic attacks.”

“Hmm… A very interesting idea. So what do you really want?”

“Well, as I see it, now is the perfect opportunity to build our resistances a little. Not even a direct hit will kill us, likely. We have plenty of recovery potions, so I thought I could put on a nice show of being battered and bruised, while we tested out our endurance against them.”

Ultima laughed out loud at this wild idea. The rest of Team Hiryu looked less than enthusiastic.

“Are you serious, General?!”

“Sir Gabil can be rather…simple sometimes, can’t he?”

“Do we have to try that right now? That’s what I want to say…”

Gabil pretended not to hear the rising complaints.

“Well, all right! I’ll allow it! Sounds like fun, besides,” said Ultima.

“My thanks to you. Now, if you could, I’d like your group to take their leave.”

He wanted Ultima, the observer, to lead the Wyvern Riders away to safety. Gabil and Team Hiryu alone would then launch a de facto suicide strike on the airships.

“If this kills me, I’m gonna haunt you in the afterlife!”

“Wish you hadn’t thought of this experiment…”

“This is definitely something he’ll be pissed about later…”

Groans and scowls were prevalent across the faces of the force, but Gabil still paid them no mind. Although they liked to gripe, their enthusiasm and excitement were still bubbling up to the surface.

So Team Hiryu decided to engage in some impromptu magical endurance training.

All this happened, by the way, as Rimuru was looking on, fretting to himself. When he found out the truth later, he almost had a conniption on the spot, shouting to high heaven at Gabil and his aides. More than a few Team Hiryu members predicted this well in advance, but the fact that they went with it anyway indicated that Gabil, their superior officer, was maybe becoming a bad influence on them.

Anyway, this was much of the reason why Gabil and his force took so much damage from the magic the airships spat out.

………

……

…

And now Gabil heard Rimuru’s order in his mind.

“Listen to me!” he shouted, oblivious to how worried Rimuru was about this experiment. “The training time is over! Now it is time to turn these skies into a graveyard!”

His troops were beyond excited. Gabil himself was brimming with joy.

“Fortunately, the inexperienced among us have evacuated with Lady Ultima. It’s only us here now, and it’s no problem if we get a little reckless!”

This goading didn’t quite get the reaction he intended.

“Reckless? I’d rather fight like hell than go through that ‘endurance training’ again!”

“Yeah, yeah! And it’s not the first time Sir Gabil’s been reckless with our lives!”

Gabil’s face turned red. “Silence!” he shouted. “Just get on with it, all of you! Follow me and give me your full strength!”

Seeing Gabil embarrass himself like that made all the troops who saw it grin a little.

“Well, so be it. You guys stop fooling around, too. Let’s just step up and get on with what we’re told.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re not about to say no to the general, no…”

“No way! Sir Gabil, give us your orders!”

Hearing that, Gabil nodded, satisfied. Then he sized up the Flying Combat Corps fighting against them and asked a shouted question.

“Who are the champions of the skies?”

“““It is us, Team Hiryu!!”””

The mood had changed with Gabil. His team answered up to it.

“That’s right. We have to get rid of those who pollute our sky. That is the will of Sir Rimuru! He has given his royal decree, and so you must do everything in your power! All of it. Don’t think about anything else!”

“““Yeah!!”””

Gabil’s order held special meaning for Team Hiryu. It meant far more than simply trying harder…

“Don’t let your consciousness slip away from you, all right? All troops, enter Dragon Body!!”

The members of Team Hiryu sprang up at once. This was Dragon Body, their secret weapon and ultimate finisher. Not only did it increase their fighting power to an overwhelming degree, but it also increased their ferocity, making it more difficult to control themselves. If it consumed their sense of self, they would become rampaging monsters.

They had stashed away that ability up until now, precisely because it became difficult to control all their destructive impulses. Gabil had thus invited Middray to lecture them on control training, but their success rate hadn’t been too stellar with it so far.

Still, use it they must. Rimuru had ordered them to give it their all, and so they had no reason to hesitate.

“…Dragon Mode!!”

All at once, Team Hiryu unleashed their true force. Their muscles swelled up, and the purple scales that covered them turned jet-black. They became thicker, more flexible, and several times tougher-skinned—and along with that, their heights also went up around 20 percent, taking in the surrounding magicules to construct new bodies for themselves.

With this mega-boost in mass and volume, their offensive and defensive forces had also leaped forward. They were, needless to say, incomparable to how they were pre-transformation. And as for the most important part, their consciousnesses… If they were to lose that, they’d be nothing more than pure manifestations of power, but no one on Team Hiryu lost it. Every single one did a magnificent job keeping ahold of themselves.

This was the moment when the true force of the Dragon Warriors—the most powerful fighting corps in Tempest—came into effect.

“I want each of you to take down one airship. Can you do it?”

“““Yes, sir!!”””

“Great! Then get to it…!”

At Gabil’s command, Team Hiryu moved in unison.

Who were the champions of the skies? The answer to that question was about to be resolved before their eyes.

The members of the Flying Combat Corps, the most valued part of the Armored Division—itself one of the Empire’s three great fighting forces—were no more than pathetic, bleating lambs by now. The reason? Now that the dragonewts had unleashed Dragon Body, the special properties of that intrinsic skill had nullified their magic. Gabil and the other Dragon Warriors were now immune to everything including and up to Megiddo—itself a nature-based magic. Each one had a Multilayer Barrier and a Cancel Natural Elements spell on them, shrugging off all physical attacks and canceling both magical attacks and natural effects.

These airships mainly attacked with magic, and with the machine guns they had as auxiliary arms, they didn’t have a chance of penetrating the scales of Gabil’s force. Team Hiryu’s fighting skill ranked A-minus to start with, and having that multiplied several times over had put them well past the A wall. Even worse for them, the transformation also gave them healing skills that came scarily close to Ultraspeed Regeneration. They had tapped into enough power to make each one a high-level magic-born.

With that, the fate of the now-toothless airships was sealed. And now Gabil was making it official.

“It’s time to go! Prepare for my special finisher…”

Gabil was stronger than his peers to start with, but in addition to muscle, he also had a special-A level of magicules in his body. It didn’t hold a candle to Shion’s or Benimaru’s, but it made him as much of a force as Soei or Geld. Tapping into Dragon Body for himself had made him into a truly remarkable warrior, enough power to even approach the former demon lords Carillon and Frey…

“…Vortex Crash!!”

A single strike from Gabil sent an airship hurtling toward the ground.

The air currents swirled around him, concentrating the moisture in the atmosphere to a single point and melding it into a maelstrom of magical power. The full brunt of this vortex was released from Gabil’s spear, piercing straight through one of the airships. Its barrier, kept running by a hundred-strong staff in the ship’s defense section, provided zero resistance before shattering. The airship was instantly downed.

The rest of the Dragon Warriors quickly followed suit. Although they couldn’t fire pure magic power from their spears like Gabil, each used their enhanced physical abilities to charge at their respective airship. Magic no longer worked on them, and the ships’ barriers provided no protection—and in no time at all, those barriers were breached, allowing them to invade the ships.

Five Dragon Warriors swarmed a ship at a time, taking no more than a few minutes to bring one down. At this point, it was only a matter of time before the entire Flying Combat Corps was wiped out.

Gabil was already getting carried away with it.

“Gwah-ha-ha-ha! Keep it up, Warriors, keep it up! And if any of you can’t take down a single ship, you know what’ll happen to you later, I’m sure!”

Hearing those words, the Team Hiryu members lagging behind the pack exchanged alarmed glances. There were only a hundred airships—they counted—and if Gabil wasn’t gonna stop attacking, there were precious few left open to them.

“Aw, c’mon, Sir Gabil!”

“Sir Gabil’s so moody, isn’t he? And he’s in such a good mood right now, I dunno if he’s gonna leave any prey for us!”

“Knowing the general, that’s way too possible…”

How would Gabil judge airships taken down by teams? Well, that was for him to decide. The rest of the force, fully aware of this, rushed to join in the attack. Now the positions of predator and prey were reversed—and so the course of the day in the sky was settled.

Going back in time a little…

The supply troops assigned to the imperial army’s Magitank Force were about to face the trial of their lives.

“You’ve done well to keep up with me…but remember, the real battle is about to begin!”

These words were uttered by Hakuro, the man in charge of the Green Numbers. His face was cool, unaffected, but the force of twelve thousand hanging on to his words were gasping for breath. They were, after all, located directly behind the Empire’s tank force, and to get there, they had to march a long, arcing path of some twenty-five miles from the Dwarven Kingdom—all while wearing heavy equipment.

It was Hakuro the Instructor who allowed this to be possible. He had trained all his Numbers thoroughly, drilling them in the art of Battlewill. Thanks to that, the Numbers had mastered a variety of martial arts—including Instantmove, letting them virtually teleport at will, and Formhide, which prevented their foes from sensing them.

These Green Numbers had deployed at the same time as Gobta’s force, doing their best to reach this spot without being detected by the enemy.

“I would like to commend all of you on your mastery of the Battlewill I taught you,” Hakuro said, face as gentle as a doting mother. His troops, seated on the ground as they listened to him, gasped anew at this, afraid of what was coming next. They had known Hakuro for a long time, and they knew if the Instructor was merciless against his allies, he was even more so against the enemy. The order he would give them with this compliment was terrifying to even imagine—and for those who understood it was up to them to execute, it was with a steely resolve that they took the foreboding news.

“Our mission is to cut off the enemy’s supply lines here. It may not mean much in the grand scheme of things, but if we can destroy the enemy’s rear supply units, we can dissuade them from wanting to fight a little. There’s no need to take enemy lives needlessly, but there is also no need to show mercy, either. Besides…”

Hakuro gave the battlefield a glance and smiled. And then:

“Gobta has grown to be a fine man. He is currently doing an expert job playing the decoy for us. And I want you all to perform as well as that general is!”

Hakuro’s voice boomed over the distant sound of explosions. Those with no real combat experience grew more tense by the moment, overwhelmed by the sound of it all.

“All right? While you’re fighting, I don’t want you to think about anything else. Fail to kill the enemy, and you’re the one who dies. Let the enemy go, and friends will die because of it. Those are the ironclad rules of the battlefield.”

His troops were panting for breath a moment ago, but now they were silent, listening to every word from Hakuro. Their leader was imparting knowledge, so those prepared to give their everything would not find themselves mentally lost in battle.

“All life does not come equally. There is no need to worry about strangers, when compared to the lives of your loved ones. I will also remind you that these enemies are invaders. They are fools who don’t even deserve the right to live. Do not be shy about cutting them down!”

With those threatening words, Hakuro hoped to quell any feelings of guilt they might have had. It was his way of showing a little kindness.

“I have trained all of you, and with that training, you can even cut down those piles of iron. Everything thrown out from them seems frozen in the air to you, does it not? Then do not be afraid. There is no one who can stand against our blades!”

Nobody could say “Er, no, they don’t seem frozen at all, sir.” There was no way to. If they did, he would say “You need more training!” and give them an even more harrowing ordeal than any war could give them. But while some had “little complaints” like that in their minds, no one had any complaint about Hakuro himself. He never asked them to do something he wouldn’t. His words may have been extreme at times, but it was all based on his desire as their leader to see his troops reach the same heights as himself.

Now the Green Numbers were watching for their chance—the order from Hakuro to charge. Their boss was acting as a decoy, the most dangerous job of the day—a truly excellent performance, one befitting a member of the Big Four. They had all seen him, thanks to Hakuro’s All-Seeing Eye extra skill, and thanks to Thought Communication, everyone down to the last member was sharing in the same insight. There was fear, yes, but more than that, the members were fascinated by Gobta’s and his Goblin Riders’ courage. It made them realize that now it was their turn to make an effort.

Hakuro felt his anxiety dissipate a little as he sized up his group. Its members had been thoroughly trained to deal with all kinds of situations, but there would still doubtlessly be casualties in their first battle. He did wish, somewhere in his heart, that he could’ve done additional training, but there was nothing more he could do. The enemy wouldn’t wait for them.

Under Benimaru’s plan, Gobta’s force would stick to their stalemate for as long as possible. It’d be bound to make the enemy impatient, he said; the tanks didn’t have infinite shells, so the rain of bullets had to stop at some point. That’s when Hakuro’s force would come into play. They’d hit the enemy’s supply forces, seize their goods, and make it a cinch to seize these so-called tanks. As a secondary objective, they were tasked with uncovering the hidden leaders, the strongmen among the enemy…but that, they could play by ear.

Hopefully if they exist, they’ll come up to me, Hakuro thought, although that, too, was just a matter of luck. This is their first battle. If they’re consumed by fear, they’re bound to die. I wanted to ease those fears as much as possible, but we’ll just have to see…

For now, all Hakuro could do was pray they succeeded—and that everyone came out of it safe. But those fears turned out to be unnecessary.

“Listen to me!”

Suddenly, Rimuru channeled an order to the Green Numbers through Hakuro’s skill. Hearing it was all it took for the monsters’ anxieties to be quelled. An inexplicable elation rose up among them; their bodies felt warm, as if they’d catch on fire.

“…to eliminate the enemy as quickly as possible.”

Now Rimuru’s words—or his orders—would be going into effect. They made Hakuro chuckle.

“I see I’ve worried for nothing. Did you hear that, all of you?”

“““Yes, sir!!”””

“Then let’s go! Your patient waiting is over. Go and unleash your full powers!”

Before Hakuro could finish his words, the monster army rushed off at a furious pace.

Ten or so minutes later, the infantry guarding the Empire’s supply teams were lined in a horizontal formation, ready to intercept the monster army. The sudden surprise attack almost threw them into disorder, but they were the elites of the Empire, and they immediately regained their bearings.

Some of the platoons used armored vehicles for transport as shields to shoot at the monsters with. At first glance, the imperial forces seemed to have the upper hand, as befitting an army with such a decisive numerical advantage. But the Green Numbers weren’t intimidated. Despite being exposed to gunfire, the Scale Shields provided to the front row proved handy. Unlike a bow, a rifle shot does not travel in an arc; the purpose of small-arms fire is to suppress the enemy at close range, and as long as the front row didn’t take any hits, worthwhile suppression would never happen.

This was, after all, still a world of swords and sorcery. With their unthinkably high lethality, guns had the power to change every tactical textbook in the land. But this world had magic, and thus a single bullet wasn’t necessarily enough to neutralize an enemy. For that, slashing attacks with swords and axes were more effective than bullets striking a single tiny point of the body.

The Empire had great pride in all its new weapons, but not even they were enough to institute a paradigm shift, a full change in the times. If not, their commander decided, it was time to break out a new weapon. So the next order came down from on high.

“Dammit! All forces, switch from rifle fire to your spellguns. Maintenance teams, join the main force and bring only the most important supplies with you!”

The standard rifle, a weapon re-created from knowledge brought from another world, was ineffective against monsters. They did have some success in the experimental stages, but that was only against unarmed, essentially naked creatures. But if that was the case, there was always magic.

These spellguns, wieldable even by ordinary foot soldiers, had Fire Lance magic engraved on them. That, the commander thought, would be enough to pierce through most monsters and burn them alive. Unfortunately, that supposition was beyond naive. The Green Numbers were equipped with the latest in Unique-class armor; Garm had hammered out the scales of Charybdis to create their Scale Shields, and they could deflect far more than just lead bullets…

“N-no good, sir! The enemy force is immune to magic!”

The true value of these Scale Shields was the high resistance to magic they offered. But that wasn’t the only nightmare striking the imperial army. From the skies above flew in the Wyvern Riders—the elites of the Blue Numbers—led by Ultima.

“Drop ’em all!”

With that sweetly voiced order, the ground was engulfed in flames. It was a flare bomb–based ranged attack. Not a terribly powerful one, but it had ample killing force against the imperial infantry.

But it was the sound, in particular, that sowed confusion across the battlefield. It made the support soldiers not used to fighting—mechanics, medics, and so forth—unable to keep up with the changing situation. Soon, the order to join the main force was no longer being heeded, leading to even more unnecessary casualties.

It was a relief for Hakuro to see that the battle turned out to be more lopsided than he feared.

“Hey there, Hakuro. These kids are under my command, but d’you mind if I leave ’em to you?”

“Ah, Miss Ultima? I don’t mind that, no, but…”

Hakuro gave Ultima a good-natured greeting as he watched her jump down from her wyvern’s back. The difference between his attitude with her and with his soldiers was like a yawning chasm.

“You don’t? Great, thanks so much!”

Ultima, for her part, was acting like a cute little girl begging her grandfather for a treat. If Veyron or Zonda saw her like this, they’d no doubt wonder if they were hallucinating.

They’d never tell her that, of course, but…

“Certainly, certainly. By the way…”

“Mm? What is it?”

“Well, y’see, Miss Ultima, I had a question for you. Are you close to Lady Carrera, perhaps?”

“Mmm, I dunno about calling her Lady and me Miss…but I’ll let you off the hook, Hakuro. Anyway, the answer’s simple: We hate each other!”

Ultima was still all smiles and cuteness, but there was something frightening about her presence in that moment. She was, as it turned out, extremely good at this feigned friendliness. She was actually brutal and ruthless by nature, and those two sides of her fluctuated so much, you wouldn’t be faulted for thinking she had a split personality. Even so, Ultima always paid due respect to those older than her, so that aspect of her went wholly unnoticed with most people.

“Oh, no? A pity.”

“Why’d you ask?”

“Well, I was just, you know, wondering if you knew Agera, one of Lady Carrera’s men…”

Hakuro picked his words carefully. The demon Agera looked a lot like a certain person Hakuro knew—in fact, they were virtually body doubles. That person was none other than Byakuya Araki, Hakuro’s grandfather and martial arts teacher.

He was thus keenly interested in this Agera, but the demon himself didn’t even seem to notice Hakuro. Was it because old age changed his appearance too much?

“Mmm, sorry, I dunno. I’m not too interested in him,” Ultima said plainly. “But if you’re that curious, why don’t you ask him yourself?”

She made it sound so casual. Hakuro nodded his agreement.

“You’re right. I suppose I was overthinking it.”

“Ah, yeah, that’s an easy habit to fall into. But you better think about that later, huh? The battle’s more important right now. You don’t want Sir Rimuru yelling at you, do ya?”

With a final word or two of thanks, Ultima flew off into the sky once more. Hakuro, watching her go, had a bit of a confused look on his face.

“Heh-heh! Ah, look at me. I keep telling people not to let distractions seize your mind in battle, but it seems I need to work on that myself! Best make up for this error as quickly as I can…”

Then he drew his blade, ready to rule the battlefield as the Sword Ogre.

Major General Farraga was stunned by the scene before him. His fortresses in the sky boasted unstoppable defense, thanks to a network of barriers overseen by teams of elite magicians, but now one of them had been shot down by a single blow from a monster.

According to an investigation conducted by the Imperial Intelligence Bureau, this was an uncommon race of creature known as the dragonewt. It essentially had the fighting power of a humanoid dragon, but what Farraga saw happen before him was something well beyond that description.

“Who is that freak?! What kind of bad intel did the IIB send me?!”

Were they sending him falsified intel in order to take a wizard like him down? The thought occurred to him, but not even he could swallow that one.

No, that couldn’t be. Those guys literally transformed before my eyes. Is this the morphological change seen in some monsters, like in the book my master wrote…?

It has been said that certain monster races could freely change between two forms at will—one suitable for everyday life and another geared more for battle. The dragonewts they were fighting now were an evolved form of lizardmen, with wings giving them flight and breath attacks that came in a variety of elements. They were a B-level threat as a monster, and while you didn’t want to pick a fight with one for no reason, they weren’t a major threat to an airship.

…Or they shouldn’t have been. But this was different.

“What could be going on?”

Farraga turned to his aide, helplessly confused as he tried to reconcile their intel with the reality before him.

“I’m deeply sorry, sir. According to a report from the person who measured the energy values of the enemy monster, the statistics rise greatly after the transformation. They discovered that the final value is several times the standardized level for an A rating.”

“Several times… So over an A? And they’re completely immune to magic on top of that?!”

Despite Farraga’s ranting on the subject, he didn’t quite have it right. Gabil’s force boasted very high Resist Magic defense, but they weren’t impervious to it. A hypothetical Cancel Magic wasn’t in their repertoire. It was just that the airships’ magic attacks weren’t strong enough to break the Multilayer Barriers protecting them.

“I hate to admit it, but from the situation at hand, I can only assume that. Our magic attacks aren’t working…and the enemy’s magic is shooting down our airships, our pride and joy…”

I can see that for myself, Farraga wanted to say. But he held back, trying to keep a cool head. There was nothing to fear from a flock of a hundred or so dragonewts. No matter how excellent their armor was, he thought, it couldn’t be a match for the Empire’s most advanced weapons. When those three hundred wyverns fled, he believed victory was assured—well, no. Honestly, Farraga felt uneasy about it. Maybe it was his many years of battle experience, but something was giving him an unpleasant premonition, and he didn’t like it.

So my hunch was right, then? But for now, we need to come up with countermeasures first.

With that in mind, Farraga turned his attention to the battlefield anew.

“If we’re talking explosive growth, then each one of them’s a high-level magic-born equivalent. A Hazard-level threat or maybe even a Calamity if we’re unlucky. Do I have that right?”

“Yes, sir! That’s what I heard from our analysts.”

“Abominable. Sheerly abominable. If magic worked on them, even an A ranker could be handled well enough. So what about the one in the leader role?”

“Th-that…”

“What? What is it?”

“Ah… Sorry, sir! Allow me to brief you.”

The aide faltered a bit as he looked at the report, but one glare from Farraga, and he resumed reading it to him. What Farraga heard made him want to cringe.

“…Over ten times? Are they sure about that?”

“It’s true, sir. There were no malfunctions in the measuring devices. That particular individual has over ten times the energy of any of the others there.”

“How…?”

Farraga was speechless. Even Gadora, who had gone through the cycle of reincarnation many times to build his powers, couldn’t achieve such an absurd amount of magic force. This level was more along the lines of a demon lord.

“There was nothing about this particular monster in the IIB documents. He did not participate in the battle tournament the monsters held, so his fighting force is apparently unknown.”

“According to one spy we sent in,” another aide added, “this one was making a presentation about medicinal herbs at the event instead. He had some interesting things to say, but now that I think about it, perhaps that was their way of hiding a Disaster-level threat from the world.”

Farraga, listening to his aides express their opinions, concluded that it had to be true. What they saw just now truly was a transformation. They had kept their forces under wraps to catch the enemy off guard, and now that they knew the airships were basically armed with nothing but magic, they revealed their true selves. They really got one over on us, he thought.

“Gentlemen, calm down. We’re fighting monsters here, and if we are, you all know that our victory remains unassailable. No matter who our foe is, we simply need to launch our magic cancelers at full blast, and they’ll all be pinned down!”

Dragonewts might be a rare species, and those with transformation skills even rarer, but that didn’t make them unbeatable. The airships were powerful, cherished weapons, developed for use against Veldora. Use their magic cancelers, the true showstopper among all their advantages, and not even the dragon family was worth breaking a sweat over.

Even now, their magic cancelers were in effect and covering a wide area around them, including at ground level. But they were operating at something of a trial run; only for the fight against Veldora would they be turned up all the way and focused on a single point. The bodies of monsters were made up of magicules; disrupt the magicules in the air around them, and they’d inevitably slow down. And if these disruptive waves could be concentrated in a smaller way, they could render any sort of monster helpless.

“Right away, sir!”

As his aides hurriedly sprang into action, Farraga tried to grasp the battle situation. Save for their leader, the dragonewts were forming teams of five in the air. Twenty of their airships were currently engaged in battle with them, and fewer than ten ships in their fleet had been taken down. There was still plenty of room to recover.

“Major General, we’re ready to fire. But in our current position, we’ll lose some of our own allies to the cannon blast…”

“So?”

“…O-oh. Never mind, sir.”

“Then get on with it!”

“Yes, sir!”

What would happen if you shot magic cancelers on an airship that stayed aloft on magical force? It was obvious—without the magical effect upon it, the airship would follow the laws of physics right to the ground. The crew would be wiped out, including the magicians who looked up to Farraga, their old companion in the Magic Division. But despite that, Farraga gave the order without batting an eye.

“Begin irradiation…now!”

The remaining ships set off, circling around Gabil’s forces and the airships they were currently engaged in battle with—then, one after another, they fired their cancelers from their bows. The airships they targeted began to fall downward…along with the dragonewts in combat.

I’m sorry…but this is a necessary sacrifice.

Farraga prayed silently, eyes wide open as the fallen airships hit the ground and burst into flames. There was no way the crew, to say nothing of the demons caught up in it, were safe.

“Well done. Now the only thing that remains is the special one among them.”

“And even if magic doesn’t work on it, the shock wave and the heat are beyond anything it could take.”

“It was a great sacrifice…but a small price to pay for taking out a hundred upper-level magic-born.”

A hint of relief washed over the aides. But it was Farraga who rained on their parade.

“Don’t rest easy yet. Sacrificing your compatriots is nothing to be proud of! And we haven’t finished off that one individual yet!”

The words made the aides stiffen.

The demon lord–class individual had been frozen in the air, but its wings were still intact and keeping it in the sky. With more than twenty airships now destroyed, there was no way they could let it escape.

“If it were only the flightless Gobta of the Big Four, we wouldn’t have had any of this trouble…”

“Indeed. We, in tandem with Gaster’s tank force, could have broken down even the strongest of defenses.”

“But this guy here is pinned down by the magic canceler. If we keep irradiating him, it has to tear his body apart sooner or later.”

“We can’t be certain of that. Our analysts are still conducting observations, but the individual’s energy values are falling only minimally.”

Hearing this exchange between his aides made Farraga feel a sudden chill in his core. We’re exposing it to magic cancelers from over seventy airships at once, and all we can do is pin it down?! So trying to weaken him is meaningless altogether?!

As much as he couldn’t believe it, Farraga felt this called for rethinking his strategy. This, he knew, was a whole new dimension of strength. Focusing all their magic cancelers only just stopped his movements. Maybe they could weaken it with time, but he had no idea there was another monster on the level of Veldora like this.

This guy has to be more trouble than Gobta of the Big Four… But wait!

At that moment, Farraga suddenly had a flash of inspiration. Maybe this individual here was Veldora, the exact target they had been looking for. The thought sounded enticingly convincing to him.

“Ah-haaa… If this is Veldora…then that explains the off-the-charts energy readings.”

Before he knew it, his mouth was speaking by itself. His aides had a wealth of reactions to it.

“Oh… So being newly freed from his seal, maybe he’s too weakened to even maintain his dragon form?”

“Weakened? He’s got all this power, and you call that weakened? Even his squadron had powers comparable to dragons. In fact, we’ve even tracked a few of them approaching the level of an Arch Dragon.”

“That’s right,” said Farraga. “That, my friends, is the horror of Veldora. He defeated the imperial army once before; my master Gadora told me the story. And even after being sealed away for three hundred years, he’s still that strong. Hard to even imagine what he was like pre-seal, isn’t it?”

His aides nodded approvingly as they listened.

“Yes, with that much power, no wonder the army of Farmus never stood a chance.”

“The major general is right. I’m pretty convinced this is Veldora.”

Most of the people in the room agreed, but some still had their doubts.

“Excuse me, Major General. According to our documents, the name of the dragonewt leader is Gabil…”

“That’s an alias, you,” said Farraga, laughing it off. “We’ve all heard about how Veldora’s power has waned after being sealed off. He’s just trying to keep a low profile until he regains his true fighting strength.”

With that much assurance, the questioning aide had no choice but to back down.

“It’s…rather unheard of for a monster to take an alias. But if any would, it’d be Veldora, perhaps?”

There were still assorted things he didn’t agree with Farraga on, but instead he forced himself to see things his way. And once word spread among the crew that Veldora was the individual they were pitted against, the officers’ faces all lit up with joy.

“It’s terrible that we lost thirty percent of our valued airships, but if that was against Veldora, it’s hardly anyone’s fault!”

“If anything, it’s a stroke of good luck. We needed to be on the lookout for the wide-ranging attack that defeated Farmus. Good thing we blocked him off with our magic cancelers as early as we did.”

Yes, Farraga thought. Veldora’s trapped in the cancelers, unable to move. Keep draining him of his strength, and it’ll be far easier to kill him.

Now, out of nowhere, he had completed the biggest coup of this whole operation. Slowly, deliberately, Farraga chewed on his good fortune.

“Is the output on the cancelers all right?”

“No problems, sir. Stable eighty percent.”

“How much longer until it reaches maximum power?”

“Estimated under an hour, sir. At this rate, it’s all we can do to pin him down, but little by little, Veldora’s physical disintegration has begun. I think it’ll be effective enough for us.”

“Veldora has an hour to live, then? Good. More than enough time for Gaster to finish seizing the ground war.”

His aides were excellent. Without a word, they understood Farraga’s intentions and worked with their analysts to provide him the needed updates. At the drop of a hat, they were reviewing their operation and identifying potential problems. In an hour, they concluded, Gobta of the Big Four should be suitably routed. Fusing with that wolf monster made him a formidable force, but it still lost out to Veldora. If Gaster’s tank battalion put their minds to it, it wouldn’t be too hard to defeat him.

“If it’s Veldora and his kin, then no wonder magic didn’t work. But the goddess of victory has smiled upon us! Just sit back, relax, and the Empire’s long-held dream will be granted!”

Now fully convinced, Farraga focused on rallying his soldiers’ morale.

Victory was in the air across the bridge.

“Let’s get some wine ready.”

“Good idea. Something special this time. A nice four-hundred-year-old vintage, perhaps, please.”

“Yes, the perfect wine to toast the Empire’s vindication. The lees should settle within an hour.”

“Very good. Let’s go with that, then.”

“…Oh! Can I have some, too?”

The beautiful girl, her long bluish-purple hair in a side ponytail, had sat herself down in the aide’s seat next to Farraga.

Since when was she here?! And not just that…

She was in a full military uniform, one that didn’t suit her age at all—but despite its abject formality, it only enhanced the girl’s cute looks.

Farraga quickly regretted his carelessness. The sheer certainty of his victory had left him too relaxed. And not just him—all the other aides and officers on the bridge were the same. The girl must’ve wound her way through all those mental gaps to make her way in here.

“Who are you?!”

Where did this intruder come from? And what did she want? She was almost certainly foe, not friend, but Farraga doubted she’d give an honest answer.

“Oh, I can’t have any? Then I guess tea’s fine instead. I’ve had a busy day as an observer, so I’m good and parched.”

The rest of the bridge turned to see the mystery person Farraga was addressing. Their eyes went wide in astonishment when they spotted her. They had barriers in operation both inside and outside the ship, and nothing about this girl was detected in advance. And so there she was, sitting there like she always belonged on that seat.

“I said, who are you?”

Farraga slowly stood up and turned toward the girl. He accentuated his question by pointing a gun at her. The girl kept smiling, seemingly not threatened at all. And it wasn’t a threat. Not for her.

“You wanna know who I am? My name’s Ultima. That name’s super important—Sir Rimuru himself gave it to me!”

This was Violet, the Original Purple and one of the most powerful, balance-breaking presences on the planet.

Farraga calmly observed this Ultima, trying to assess her capabilities. Reasoning conversation would be an effective means to this, he spoke up.

“Ultima? Never heard of you.”

“No? Wow, you’re pretty ignorant. I came here ’cause I wanted to ask some questions, but maybe I oughtta ask somebody else.”

“What?”

“Look… You guys are all gonna die soon, y’know. So I want you to tell me about some stuff before that happens!”

She delivered that explanation with a sweet, innocent smile. Seeing this conjured feelings within Farraga that were difficult for him to describe. If he had to compare it to something, it’d be like when he encountered a high-ranked Imperial Guardian for the first time, those absolute presences. If anything, Ultima was putting even more choking pressure on him than that.

Are you telling me…that I’m being pressured? By this girl? I’m actually afraid of her?!

Farraga doubted his own instincts. But the fact was that if this girl Ultima broke into an airship by herself, she had to be absolutely extraordinary. This was, no doubt, a major emergency. He guessed what she was after, then realized how obvious it was. Veldora, still held captive, was outside the observation window, a sight that symbolized the total victory of the Empire. The monsters must be absolutely frantic, and they’d likely try anything to get Veldora back.

Ultima? I can’t believe I’m shuddering under the thrall of this monster the IIB knew nothing about. This must be their top fixer of sorts. A top-level monster, serving Veldora directly.

Definitely a top officer, one named only recently. She looked as human as they came on the outside, but it was impossible to put into words just how horrifyingly evil her aura was. He didn’t know who she was, but Farraga, luckily, knew a monster with an aura like that. Gadora, his master, had been conducting fervent research on them.

So Farraga pointed his gun at Ultima.

“I’ve got it. You’re a demon, aren’t you?”

“Wow, good job! You’re right.”

Of course I am, he thought, chuckling to himself. With this level of evil spirit, she definitely had to be a high-ranking Arch Demon—one both physically incarnate and named. A true monster, through and through. The big open question at the moment was her rank.

She’s definitely noble, no doubt about that. Medieval or lower would be preferred, but if we’re talking Ancient, we might have some problems…? No. We can stop a demon’s special skills in this space. And a demon without magic is hardly anything to fear!

Farraga began secretly giving instructions to his subordinates. His orders: to point their magic canceler at the ship’s interior. It’d shut down their magic amplifier cannon, disarm their spellguns, and turn the magicians in the crew into plain old helpless people. But that was exactly what Farraga wanted. Block off a monster’s magicules, and the threat was gone—and the same was true for demons, too. Just take care of that stop, and the magic a demon fights with is off the table.

If you were waging a magic battle against an Arch Demon, all the sorcerers in the world couldn’t give you a chance at victory. It was much better to create a position of superiority for yourself to start with, increasing your odds of coming out on top.

Keeping his gun in everyone’s sight, Farraga surreptitiously put a hand on the saber at his waist. Then he kept talking, endeavoring to keep Ultima’s attention.

“I’m surprised Veldora wrangled up a demon assistant like you.”

“Huh? Sir Veldora?”

“Heh-heh-heh… No need to hide it. What other reason would you have for being here, apart from coming to your lord’s rescue?!”

“Um, no? I am the faithful servant of Sir Rimuru!”

The servant of the demon lord Rimuru? Come on. She’s clearly here to rescue Veldora.

No, he had never received any briefings that indicated Veldora had people working for him. Whether she served Veldora or a demon lord, that was just a triviality.

“My pardons. So you’re here to save Veldora, aren’t you?”

“What are you talking about? I just told you I’m here to ask some questions. Don’t you listen to people?”

Somehow, they didn’t seem to be on the same page.

Is she bluffing? I don’t see the point of hiding it, but what the hell does she want…?

Farraga began to get a vague sense of uneasiness, as if he was wrong about something. Like he was making some kind of big mistake…

“…So what do you want to ask me?”

Ultima smiled, like she had been waiting for this all day. Then with that same smile still on her face:

“Well, how this ship works and how to control it, for one. That’s pretty important. Also, the remaining military forces in the Empire. Like, how many really strong guys do you have and stuff like that—as much as you know, okay?”

Her innocent attitude felt like nothing but disrespect to Farraga.

If she’s messing with me, then fine. I’ll admit she’s kind of a trickster, but what can one person do?

He still had his concerns, but that was how he truly felt. All their preparations would be done soon, and they had the perfect counter to deal with a demon.

Out the corner of his eye, he saw a signal that everything was ready. Their victory was now assured. Farraga regained his composure.

“Heh-heh-heh… You think I’m just going to give that to you?”

“No, not really, but I guess that doesn’t really matter. Got my tea ready yet? I’ve kinda been waiting awhile.”

“I’ve got something even better than tea for you!”

As if shaking off any remaining hesitation, Farraga pulled the trigger. The bullet flew away, signaling the start of battle—and just as it did, the magic cancel came into effect across the airship.

The weapon in Farraga’s hand was not a spellgun. It was a Colt Government 1911, a military-grade semiautomatic pistol manufactured by the Colt firearms company in the US. It was an antique, brought over here by an otherworlder, and Farraga cherished it so much that he never missed a day of maintenance on it. It was loaded with a seven-plus-one round, and its nickname of Hand Cannon came from its use of large-caliber bullets, specially made at great expense.

But this Colt was only a diversion. As a spiritual life-form, basic weapons meant nothing to a demon anyway. An incarnated demon might have felt a little pain, but that was it.

With a deft hand, Farraga released the safety and fired off its full array of bullets. He had no optimism about gunning her down with them. Only those with a death wish would look down on an Arch Demon like that…and as soon as the sound stopped, Farraga saw he was right. Ultima was seated in her chair, not a care in the world, as she lifted up her left hand and let eight bullets drop to the floor. He didn’t know how she did that without magic, but the bullets were drained of their kinetic energy, and Ultima’s hand was unhurt.

“That’s a pretty fun-looking toy you got there…but I like the one Sir Rimuru has more.”

“Oh yeah? Well, this one’s my favorite.”

The results were honestly more disappointing than expected, but they didn’t surprise Farraga. Holstering his gun, he then took out the saber on his hip. This was a magic saber, but it still retained its powers even with a magic canceler influencing it. Using Farraga’s own magic force to keep a steady flow of magicules running inside the blade, it could produce an even greater effect than a magic Aura Sword–infused blade. Magic swords worked against demons, he knew—that, and if he could destroy this physical body of hers, she’d never be able to withstand the magic canceler.

Off to the demon world with you!

Farraga was a wizard but also a talented swordfighter. He didn’t go out of his way to show that off, but he was proud to say that he was as good as any famous swordfighter out there. That was why, even in this magic-blocked environment, Farraga could keep calm.

Ultima, too, remained unfazed despite the magic canceler doing its work on her. That, Farraga coldly assumed, was fake bravado, and he wasn’t about to let his foe’s performance fool him.

“So how’s it feel to have all your fancy magic blocked?” Farraga sneered.

“?” Ultima responded with a puzzled expression.

“Heh-heh-heh… Getting impatient, aren’t you? Well, this little chat is over, accursed demon!”

The air around Farraga changed, an invisible thread of tension stretched out between him and Ultima.

“Huh… You wanna go?” Ultima asked.

“Of course. What kind of dimwit would ever make a deal with the devil?”

“Dimwit? Hey, um… Are you talking about me?”

“Who else, you fool? Can’t you understand that? Let me tell you one thing. You want to know who’s strong in this Empire? Well, I’m one of them!”

Taking advantage of Ultima’s brief reply, Farraga thrust his saber into the air. It was a master-level stab technique aimed at Ultima’s heart, a true finisher that not even a magic-born could evade.

But:

“Then I’ll kill you last.”

Farraga heard a voice behind him. His killing blow didn’t even touch Ultima in her seat—instead, it went right through the chair, putting a hole in it. Shockingly, the girl had somehow gone from being right in front of him to right behind him. That was the unbelievable truth Farraga had to face.

“If you don’t wanna have a conversation, that’s fine. I’m still gonna have you answer my questions, though. But don’t worry. You don’t have to say anything. I’ll just take the knowledge from you myself.”

With an innocent smile, Ultima looked around at the soldiers and officers watching her. Then in a horribly chilling voice, she said:

“Okay, let’s start with you first.”

“…What?”

Farraga quickly spun around. Some kind of round mass flew past his side before slamming against the wall, leaving a stain. It was a human head. One of his now-dead aides fell to the floor, then began convulsing, as if he forgot he was supposed to do that until just that moment.

“What on…?!”

“Well, he didn’t know much, did he? Okay, let’s keep going.”

With that, she randomly ripped off the head of another officer, played with it a bit in her fingers for a few seconds, then discarded it. This was now a process—and one she began to repeat with a steady rhythm, leaving a growing pile of corpses behind her. Now the bridge was transformed into a hellscape of shrieking and terror.

“T-turn the magic canceler up to maximum! Contact the other ships and have them focus their sights on our flagship!”

The magicians in attendance were panicking, but Farraga’s demands brought them back to their senses. Hurriedly, they followed the orders and sprang into action.

“Is this magic canceler your new weapon and stuff? It sends out random commands to local magicules to inhibit magic casting, doesn’t it? Yeah, I’m sure that works on lots of monsters, but um…did you think it’d work on me?”

Ultima asked that question with just the most adorable head tilt. It was greeted with a near scream from Farraga:

“You’re bluffing! Don’t think you can bluff your way out of this!”

“Mmm, I dunno about that. I mean, if I was a mystic beast built up from magicules, then yeah, I feel that’d have a pretty good effect. But don’t you think it’s kind of a waste of time to point that at me if I’ve already incarnated into this body?”

“What…?”

“Besides, maybe it’d be a different story with a lower-level demon, but not a high-end one, y’know? Because when we’re conscious, magic just kinda happens naturally with us, like you guys and breathing. Like this, see?”

With that, Ultima disappeared. At the same time, the head of the communications officer sitting at the end of the command deck flew off. Ultima had completed the job in an instant.

“Did you see that? All I did was move a bit, and it sent that man’s head up in the air. I was going faster than the speed of sound, but you didn’t feel any sonic boom, did you? That’s magic, y’know. And also…”

Ultima gave her hand a little shake. Her fingertips seemed to blur for a bit, as if in a haze. Then with the sound of something wet whapping into a hard object, the head of the aide standing next to Farraga burst apart.

“You see? If I want a shock wave, it’s easy. All I have to do is follow the laws of physics, and ta-daa.”

It was such an innocent way to calmly describe an atrocious act. She felt no guilt about it whatsoever.

“No,” Farraga muttered to himself. Now he was finally understanding her. The common sense he had spent his life developing got in the way of comprehending any of this. It was such a strange feeling, like she was speaking a language from some faraway foreign nation. His instincts refused to accept it.

Was…? Was she really an Arch Demon?

Even after all this time, Farraga was still pondering the true identity of Ultima. In terms of actual strength, Farraga was a good match for an Arch Demon—but a lot depended on age. A newborn one, he could beat all by himself. Against an Ancient one or older, that’d be too much for him, but a lesser noble Medieval in age or younger, well, he thought he had a sporting chance.

So what was all this about? They had this magic canceler that could keep even Veldora himself pinned down and helpless, but it wasn’t working for them at all. And even if Ultima (as this named demon called herself) was physically incarnated, her strength was simply extraordinary. That’s what threw Farraga’s common sense for a loop so badly.

Now he understood that he had no hope at all of beating Ultima, no matter how much he struggled. So he wasted no more time playing his final move against her.

“Don’t get cocky with me, demon! Summon Spirit: Ifrit! Come to me, elemental of the primordial flames!!”

It was the most powerful of summon spells, offered only to champion-level casters. Farraga alone couldn’t master that arcane art, but with the magic amplifier cannon on this ship and fifty magicians helping out, it was now possible. Magic cancelers had only a tiny effect on spirits, which is why such a summoning could even be successful.

With a mighty roar, Ifrit materialized on the bridge, thoroughly trashing it. If the spirit was high-level enough to outrank the demon, even an Arch Demon could be obliterated. Farraga was sure of it as he turned toward Ultima.

“I’ll admit it—you’re a menace! But we’ve been studying demons for a long, long time, and we’re well prepared for them! Sorry, my friend, but it’s over for you!!”

Even with Farraga’s strained voice ringing in her ears, Ultima kept smiling. And for the first time in his life, Farraga learned just how awful a smile could really be.

You’re kidding me. It can’t be. There’s no way she can beat the Ifrit I summoned!!

The Ifrit Farraga summoned had been granted the power of fifty magicians working through an amplifier cannon. That made it several times stronger than regular high-level spirits, and whether she was Ancient or Prehistoric, no Arch Demon could ever beat him.

And yet Farraga’s fear persisted.

“Don’t get carried away just because you summoned that small fry. You really should’ve started talking while I was still giving you a nice, friendly smile. Now I’m gonna give you nothing but despair.”

Ah, it’s over.

That was the immediate thought, the instinct, in Farraga’s mind. And the next moment, right before him and the surviving bridge crew, Ifrit, the embodiment of absolute power, froze and shattered into a million pieces. It was the elemental magic Cocytus, and Ultima had just launched it without any casting time, as simple as breathing.

“Ah, ah…”

“N-nooo! She’s a monster!!”

“What was that? What was that?!”

The poor fools were all crying for what was likely the last time, in a state of complete panic. It was a natural reaction to have. The living personification of death was standing before them.

“Okay! Now, back to question time!”

Ultima’s voice—you could almost describe it as cheery—was the last thing all those souls ever heard.

A few minutes later, a beaming Ultima chuckled to herself. She had acquired everything she wanted to know, and she was delighted with it all.

She couldn’t quite glean every single piece of knowledge from them, but to Ultima, reading people’s brain waves for information was a snap. She was an intelligence officer, and bringing back information was part of her mission. If she did a good job at it, she knew her master Rimuru would be pleased. I sure hope he gives me some praise, she thought.

Then he turned toward the last survivor in the room. This was Farraga; he was the only one Ultima had missed amid all this despair, and she sure didn’t skip him out of any kind of mercy.

“And since you called me a fool, I’m going to give you the biggest scare of all! And I bet you’ll survive it if you try hard enough, so let’s see what you can do, okay?”

Upon whispering that, Ultima activated a spell. Jet-black flames the size of a fist rose above her left hand.

“Oh, oh, oh…”

Farraga recognized it: an abyss core, a kind of uncontrollable hellfire that was the by-product of activating a certain other magic… Or maybe it was controllable all along, and Farraga just didn’t know how. He knew that three members of the Seven Days Clergy, the champions of humankind, could manage it.

But the abyss core Ultima just conjured up was more than a level larger than the one the Seven Days could create. He might not have known how it worked, but one look, and even he could understand how much of a tactical-level threat this was.

Ultima casually tossed it in the air.

“Okay, have fun! Bye now!”

And without another word, she walked away from the bridge.

Farraga, left to himself, was stunned.

The question of what Ultima really was no longer mattered to him. As soon as he caught that abyss core, he realized he was at the end of his life. Instinctively, he understood that he’d never be able to control it—and that understanding was correct. Even his full power was meaningless against it.

The fire that had left Ultima’s control expanded, multiplied, and spread forward, as if mocking his worthless efforts. Just as Ultima took off, the dark ball of fire engulfed the flagship. Then it grew even bigger, swelling to a gigantic size and triggering an explosion. It was now a Nuclear Flame, the ultimate in destructive magic, and Farraga was in the middle of it.

“Beautiful… This is it… The magnum opus of all magic…”

With a look of ecstasy on his face, he let the dark flames scorch his body. Soon, it had evaporated, letting his very soul taste the pain of being burned alive.

Master… Master Gadora… Have you ever gotten to experience this miracle?

No, he decided. He couldn’t have. Farraga understood that magic canceler–driven interference wouldn’t matter if it could be dominated by someone with strong enough thought waves. This beautiful destruction, the one giving Farraga such a sublime sense of despair, was all the proof he needed.

And so, biting back the despair and enormous gratefulness of being surrounded by the ultimate in magic, Farraga’s life came to a close.

Thanks to the destructive Nuclear Flame, the Flying Combat Corps led by Farraga had been thoroughly crushed. Not a trace of it was left. The superheated flames caused most of the initial damage, followed by the secondary shock wave from the explosion. The flagship itself was vaporized by a core of unimaginable heat, while the surrounding ships exploded and scattered to the four winds, their hulls turning into lethal shrapnel. The larger fragments, hurtling downward beyond the speed of sound, caused incredible damage all by themselves.

With that explosion, the outcome was set in stone. Only the very first ship to fall from the sky remained in any recognizable form. All the others were ripped apart by the chain of explosions that were the day’s climax.

Thus, the Flying Combat Corps, the golden child of the imperial military, suffered the disgrace of being completely wiped away from existence well before it even caught a whiff of Veldora.

Ultima was now flying away from the flagship, her interest in Farraga now gone from her mind. She turned to look at the swelling fireball, giving it a satisfied nod. Recalling Rimuru’s order to go at full power, she wondered if she should’ve turned it up a notch after all but thought better of it. That would have killed off Team Hiryu on the ground, so this much was just fine.

Despite the catastrophe occurring in the air, the damage to Team Hiryu was zero, as if it was calculated to end that way all along. Then again, if some of its members failed to meet their quota, they might have suffered some indirect casualties later…but that was none of Ultima’s business.

What she was more concerned about was Gabil.

“What’s Gabil been doing over there…?”

Gabil had been exposed to prolonged magic canceler fire. It sounded like the bridge had mistaken him for Veldora because of who knows why, but Ultima didn’t let it bother her much. As things stood, however, he was going to get caught in the Nuclear Flame, so she really wanted him to retreat already.

She flew over to his side, as much of a hassle as she knew this would be.

“Hey, Gabil? What are you doing?”

“Ah, Lady Ultima! I’ve actually gained a new sense, you see!”

He sounded oddly boastful about it. It piqued Ultima’s interest, but evacuation took priority right now. She wouldn’t be killed by her own magic, but Gabil probably wouldn’t survive. Okay, maybe he would, but she didn’t want to take that bet, let alone be stigmatized as someone who killed her allies—and so Ultima forcibly removed Gabil from the scene.

Back on the ground, the two of them regrouped with Team Hiryu. It was finally time for Ultima’s interrogation to begin.

“So what’s this all about?” she asked, her tone firm with Gabil. Apart from her information-officer duties, Ultima was also an observer watching over him, providing both support and advice so he didn’t pull anything foolish. If Gabil failed, that meant Ultima failed, too, so it was only natural that she was harsh with him.

But Gabil was totally oblivious to this.

“Gwah-ha-ha-ha! You see, when I was exposed to that special light beam the enemy shot at me, I had a brief stroke of genius. I immediately saw that this light affected magicules, and so I wanted to experiment to see how long I could withstand it!”

I should just turn this lizard over to Sir Rimuru and have him scream at him, Ultima thought, but she held her ground and soldiered on.

“And so what’s this new sense of yours?”

“Yes, that’s the thing! All of you, come up and listen close. Sir Middray told us that our intrinsic skill Dragon Body would become available to us for longer periods of time as we trained with it. I, too, kept myself transformed that entire time, didn’t I?”

He looked around his squadmates, sneering at them. Upon hearing this, Team Hiryu exchanged glances with each other, surprised. They were all able to transform for an average of about ten minutes, and they had long since returned to their original forms by now.

“I thought that’d be a given for you, Sir Gabil, but no?”

“If you teach us this secret, can we do it, too?”

His troops began growing more and more excited. It made Ultima glance at them with cold, dead eyes. If only these lizards could experience a little pain for a change, she thought. She showed no mercy to her foes and little care for those below her in rank, but technically speaking, Gabil’s force wasn’t in her hierarchy. If he disposed of them without permission, Rimuru would fume at her. And a bit of a lecture was one thing, but when she recalled how Rimuru reacted whenever one of his people got hurt, she’d likely receive a much harsher punishment—maybe even banishment. Ultima was determined not to let that happen, so after weighing that punishment against the chance to release some stress on these lizards, she reluctantly decided to remain patient.

“It is thanks to you,” Gabil told her, “that I’ve discovered the secret of this power. You believed me when I said I had an idea, and you bought me enough time to think it through.”

“What?”

“Heh-heh-heh! No need to play dumb, for I, Gabil, can see right through you. We all thank you for giving us the opportunity to grow from our inexperience!”

Ultima never turned down a compliment. Regaining her composure, she decided to revise her assessment of Gabil a bit.

“Okay, that’s enough. So what did you discover, Gabil? Because everyone else seems to wanna know about it.”

She decided not to bother correcting Gabil’s misunderstanding. Right now, it was more important to get this situation under control.

By this point, fighting was taking place only in localized pockets. There was the rear, commanded by Hakuro; the center, where Gobta/Ranga were still rampaging away; and the three main enemy positions Testarossa was headed for. Now that Gabil’s crew had finished destroying their air force, it was time to head off and provide support for other parts of the battle. There was no time for idle chitchat.

“I’ll report this to Sir Rimuru as well, but before that, I will be as brief as I can. And all of you listen up, too, because it’ll help everyone be stronger.”

Gabil sternly began his explanation. It was, in essence, a way to fully control the Dragon Body skill.

As an intrinsic dragonewt skill, Dragon Body strengthened the user’s body via a surge of magicules. This surge took in matter around it for its strengthening effect. More mass meant enhanced defense, along with near-immediate recovery if the user was injured. Having magicules running out of control like this meant casting magic was off the table, but they’d have no problem using breath- and other ability-based skills. As long as they could keep ahold of their consciousness, it provided enhanced strength with almost no downside.

“Now, it seems that this enemy attack has a tendency to disrupt the movement of magicules around us…and I could feel it further enhancing my powers.”

“What? You mean…even beyond your current form?”

Ultima was surprised. This was an unexpected side effect of the magic canceler. Right now, Gabil had magicule energy in him equivalent to back when Clayman “awoke” for the last time. If it could be further strengthened from here, he was definitely worth listening to. The idea of magicule disruption boosting one’s power to the point that they’d statistically outdo an awakened true demon lord was enough to shock even Ultima.

But there was always a catch.

“No, no, not like that. There’s more power, yes, but I couldn’t handle it very well. So I consciously focused myself, so I could feel the magicules running rampant in my body, but…”

But the result was that pinned-down performance he showed off a bit ago. He wasn’t taking damage, but he couldn’t move at all. However, Gabil had a knack for turning anything to his advantage—and so through that experience, he learned how to more fully sense his magicules.

“That’s what Sir Middray was referring to when he talked about a state of selflessness, I think. Looking into your inner space, turning an ear to it, and then—”

“You’re taking too long! Keep it short and simple!”

Gabil’s force nodded their agreement at Ultima’s sharp feedback.

“Oh,” Gabil said, overpowered. “Well, essentially, by sensing the magicules running around wild inside me, I could send my thoughts to it. And then, wonder of wonders, I gained control over their power!”

The first impression of his men upon hearing this was that he was nuts. On the other hand, it gave Ultima food for thought. Seeing them made her realize that while it was easier than breathing for her, it must’ve been really tough for Team Hiryu. This gave her a real shot of motivation.

Wait… If I train Gabil’s force, maybe they can become even stronger?

Doing that would definitely make her useful to Rimuru. The potential for receiving praise from it was enormous.

“I know exactly what you mean, Gabil. But we can take the time to discuss this later, all right? Because right now, I really think we need to support the goblins.”

It was her way of saying this break was over. Typically, she’d report to Rimuru about how lazy they were, but after receiving such useful information from Gabil, Ultima raised her opinion of him slightly. That was why she was being so gracious here, overlooking Gabil’s erratic behavior this time.

“Ah yes, you’re right! Well, time for us to step in and provide aid, then.”

Gabil nodded happily. He still had the completely wrong idea, but Ultima didn’t see that as a problem. It was better that way for her, even, so she let them be without further comment.

“Anyone who didn’t meet their quota is going to face some thorough reeducation later, so be prepared!”

“You said it! I’ll pitch in on that, too.”

Ultima gave him an adorable smile. It seemed like a very good idea to her. And so, blissfully unaware of her intentions, Team Hiryu went back out on the field.

“Nonsense! This is ridiculous!”

At the main camp, far from the battlefield, Lieutenant General Gaster ranted, his face pale. Before him was a scene of unbelievable devastation. The Magitank Force, his pride and joy, was being tossed around by a monster wolf that had taken human form. It was a nightmarish scene; safe to say there were more destroyed tanks than intact ones by now.

Defeat was unavoidable at this point, but the battle had progressed so much faster than expected that they had already missed their retreat window. They hadn’t even been able to report the situation to Caligulio, general commander and leader of the Armored Division.

Gotta report back to that bastard Caligulio ASAP and ask for permission to withdraw…

Gaster’s sense of reason was pleading with him.

…And yet…

Even if he submitted that report, he’d likely never receive permission. The main force led by Caligulio had already kicked off their operation; if Gaster and the rest of the forces here withdrew, they’d be left totally isolated.

The Restructured Armor Corps, their main force, was being deployed in front of the demon lord Rimuru’s stronghold. They were all proud warriors of the Empire, each of whom underwent reconstructive surgery, and they numbered an overwhelming seven hundred thousand strong. They were a sure thing, absolutely certain to win, but if they knew the rest of the army had been defeated, it was bound to shake them.

Plus, the Dwarven Kingdom’s army would go on the move soon. Once they did, the Restructured Army Corps could be caught between the dwarves and the demon lord Rimuru’s forces, leaving the Corps surrounded and cut off from their supply lines. They could function for about a week without food, drink, or sleep, but no more. They were still human beings, and even they needed supplies.

My mission is to subdue the Dwarven Kingdom… If I withdrew from the war zone here, I’d be abandoning Caligulio and all his forces. Even if we can’t win, we must at least maintain the stalemate…

But that was a questionable option. The only thing Gaster saw ahead for his army was defeat. Confusion was reigning toward the rear, and the chain of command was starting to fall apart. They were even seeing friendly fire now. Even if they kept going, it was just a matter of time before they were annihilated.

“Lieutenant General! If we keep this up, one way or the other we’ll be wiped out!”

“Retreat! Give us the retreat order!!”

He didn’t need his advisers to spell it out for him. He firmly agreed with them. But if it was said out loud, all responsibility for the defeat would fall upon his shoulders.

Lieutenant General Gaster was a man of impeccable personal bravery, one with a fine reputation within the military. He had never known a setback like this in his whole career, which was what made this seem so peculiar to him.

We can’t retreat. If we do, His Majesty is bound to punish me. I can’t ever allow that to happen! I’m the man who’ll become a hero…but now all the glory’s disappearing. Unless I’ve got something firm to prove that it’s not just my fault…

The very prestige of the Empire was riding on this operation. If it failed because of him… Such was the true nature of Gaster’s thoughts, something only coming up to the surface now. In fact, he was always a small-minded person, caring only about saving his own hide and not blinking at the thought of sacrificing his troops.

“Lieutenant General, if we continue like this, it’ll be difficult to even rebuild our forces. We’re still in control of our main force—I think we should use them to strike the enemy in the rear!”

“There’s no shame in a temporary retreat. If we keep fighting in close quarters like this, it’s only going to cause us more casualties!”

Amid these suggestions, Gaster finally began using his head again. Lose the unit he’d been placed in charge of, and he’d never escape punishment either way. Demotion wouldn’t be the end of it—they might not even give him a trial before they took his life.

“Dammit… I’m going to be a hero. And now…all these damn incompetents are dragging me down…!!”

Gaster’s ugly nature was now bare for all to see. But his voice was then drowned out by the sound of a huge explosion. Turmoil spread across the main camp.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s—it’s an enemy magic attack!”

“Magic? N-no… Is that nuclear magic?!”

“We haven’t confirmed it yet, but judging by the scale, it has to be. But um…”

“But what? Speak up!”

“Yes, sir! The enemy’s offense seems to have easily penetrated our legion magic protecting our force from magic strikes…”

“What?! Damage report!”

“The explosion occurred in the sky, sir. We’ve lost contact with our allied airships!”

“That— That’s ridiculous! Are you saying that the Flying Combat Corps, the jewel of our entire military, is gone…?”

Gradually, in fits and starts, the situation grew clear—and now everyone realized the damage was far more serious than they imagined.

They had lost contact with not one airship, but all of them. That magic just now must’ve taken them all down. They were equipped with magic cancelers, a new type of weapon, but it was magic that did them in? It was so hard to believe.

“Retreat. Wait, no. We have to… Yes, we have to change course and gather ourselves!”

Gaster sent out the order, aimed more at himself than his soldiers. He had finally made the decision to retreat from this ghastly situation…but that decision had already come decisively too late.

A cool voice echoed through the battlefield.

“Huh? You’re not going to claim this is the end, are you? Because I’ve already told you—invade us any further, and we’ll show no mercy.”

Gaster turned his panicked head toward the voice and saw a beautiful snow-white face with a beaming smile. It was Testarossa.

“I’m a woman of my word, you know. When I visited this world in the past, I made sure I fully granted the wishes of my summoner. Rest assured, I’m going to reward you handsomely as well.”

Fear flooded Gaster’s mind. Not a petty little fear involving saving his own ass, but an endlessly churning terror that threatened the very foundation of his life, eroding his instincts.

“Y-you!”

“Oh? I wonder if you forgot about that? If so, that’s very rude of you.”

Testarossa eyed him like an affectionate mother looking down at her naughty son.

Gaster would never have forgotten. Not that much time had passed since they parted, but no matter how many years went by, her lovely white hair and scarlet eyes were too beautiful to ever forget. More than that, it was all so terrifying. Her beauty gave him an unfathomable sense of foreboding.

Suppressing his fear, Gaster tried ordering his men to attack. But there was no one to answer the call.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to do, but your men are resting at the moment. They must’ve been pretty tired, huh? I can’t seem to get them up.”

She was whispering in his ear now. They were talking face-to-face a moment ago, but now he found her standing right behind him. He hadn’t been careless—he never even took his eyes off her—but before he knew it, Testarossa had moved on him.

It was just too fast, and even more frightening, there was no sound accompanying it at all. Gaster’s unique skill Performer allowed him to detect the movements of his opponents through sound. He could capture even the faintest of noises, things not even a trained guru could control—not just the beating of one’s heart, but even the blood flowing through their veins. And yet sound was completely absent from Testarossa.

Then Gaster discovered another terrifying fact. He couldn’t hear any sound from his fallen men, either. They were dead.

“Y-you… You didn’t kill them, did you?!”

Gaster staggered away from Testarossa.

“Hmm?” she replied, not betraying any remorse. “Well, you know, I was a bit hungry, so I took some.”

“Took some? Took some what?”

“Oh, a few souls.”

Her matter-of-fact tone of voice infuriated Gaster. The anger overcame his fear, replenishing the strength in his body.

“Die, you foul demon! Mind Requiem!!”

Letting his momentum take him up, Gaster unleashed the most powerful move he could muster, scattering inescapable, murderous sound waves into the surrounding space. The special effects these waves had on the minds of intelligent life-forms caused instant death. It was one of his all-powerful finishing moves, effective even against spiritual life-forms like demons.

But Testarossa just smiled elegantly at him.

“Ah, what a pleasant tone! It’d be such a waste that you had to be human. What a pity. You have such wonderful talent as a musician, but now I have to kill you.”

Her enraptured expression clouded with sadness. Seeing it made Gaster realize that his attack didn’t work. It plunged him into despair. He had been fooled by her beautiful appearance, but Testarossa was definitely not human. In fact, he finally realized, she was a higher-ranked being than he had ever seen before in his life.

Maybe even more so than that rampaging wolf hybrid…

This was beyond dangerous.

Are you saying there’s monsters like that all over this nation? If so, then we may have gravely misjudged our strategy from the start…

After all this time, Gaster finally began to feel some regret. Along with that, he foresaw the complete failure of the Empire’s military operation. All of this…and above that, Tempest had the Catastrophe-class threat Veldora. The war was already dangerously close to being lost. There was no way they could stage a comeback.

So Gaster began to get desperate.

“Wait! I want to make a deal!”

“Oh? What kind?”

“I— I’m high-ranked in the Empire. I’m well versed in our military operation. I have classified information on me. I can be useful to you, I promise. So please, spare my life!”

Throwing all shame and outward appearances aside, Gaster begged for mercy. But there was still a glint of light in his eyes, and he was careful to keep an eye on Testarossa’s response. He thought he was out of options, but right now, his ears caught the sound of several footsteps approaching.

He had an idea of who they were. They were running quietly enough that only he could notice them. Just from those footsteps, he could immediately surmise they were from the Imperial Intelligence Bureau.

If the IIB had agents monitoring the battlefield, it certainly wouldn’t surprise Gaster. They were directed by Tatsuya Kondo, the one “stalking the halls of information,” and he was sure Tatsuya would use every measure at his disposal here. So he decided to believe that they were here to save him. It didn’t matter how pathetic it made him look—if they could buy enough time for him, he’d be saved.

His confidence in this mainly stemmed from a rumor about the IIB he had heard a while back. Among the IIB staff were people simply termed intelligence officers, operatives with first-class combat skills who were trained for operations in any environment. Their names were unknown to the public because they never joined in any ranking duels; they were affiliated with the IIB, and they never transferred out. They were, in a way, removed from the world at large, working strictly under the mysterious otherworlder Tatsuya Kondo.

That was all just a rumor, and not a very credible one at that, but Gaster had nothing else to grasp onto right now. If these were just regular soldiers coming along, it was all over. But if they were IIB intelligence officers… Well, with Gaster’s help, they could probably beat Testarossa. That was why, right then, he had to do whatever he could—even beg for his life—to buy some more time.

And the bet paid off.

“Do you sense that? You’re a demon… No, an Arch Demon!”

Several soldiers jumped out in front of Gaster, shouting. He thanked his own good fortune—and when he heard the term Arch Demon, it suddenly made sense. No way his physical attacks would ever work; he was dealing with a spiritual life-form. And an Arch Demon was top of the heap among them, dangerous enough to pose a Calamity-level threat. Only a true champion could fight one off solo, and maybe Gaster would have a chance, but it’d truly be a fight for his life.

“Wh-who are you?”

Three men were now on the scene. The sight of them reassured Gaster enough that he dared to ask.

“Sir! We’re from the IIB. I—”

Just as Gaster expected, they were secret agents. One of them was about to state his name, but the man in the middle—the leader, apparently—stopped him.

“Whoa! Now’s not a good time to give out names.”

The first man turned toward Testarossa, a concerned look on his face.

“You’re no regular Arch Demon, are you?”

“It looks like she’s received a physical body. Tch… No wonder she had such a faint presence.”

“Lieutenant General, we’ll get to names later. For now, we have to team up to beat this evil demon!”

“Yes, of course!”

Gaster had no choice but to back the leader. It was annoying to not be in charge, but right then, survival was everything.

In a brilliant display of coordination, the IIB men instantly surrounded Testarossa, using a chain made of monster hair to block her movement on three sides.

Unbeknownst to Gaster, this move was the Imperial Suppression Stance. It was the most advanced killing formation taught in the Empire, allowing a team of three people to defeat higher-level monsters—even Arch Demons.

The secret was in this chain, woven with the hair of monsters and forged from holy silver, a Legend-class treasure. These definitely weren’t rank-and-file soldiers carrying it, and in fact, the members of this trio were among the greatest fighters in the Empire—knights of the Imperial Guardians, in disguise.

Davis, ranked eleventh.

Balt, ranked thirty-eighth.

Gordon, ranked sixty-fourth.

When running an infiltration mission, Imperial Knights preferred to work in groups of three. The Imperial Guardians had their own numerical pecking order, and it was customary for the smallest number to be their leader. In terms of strength, the gap between the twenties and the thirties and below, numberwise, was enormous. Those assigned number thirty or below were Enlightened, reaching dimensions beyond humanity, and they all had powers almost as strong as Saints.

And one of them was here now—Davis, who played a key role in the Bloody Shore incident. Davis’s team had sealed away Blanc, that nightmarish Primal Demon, and now he was swooping in at Gaster’s time of need. He and Blanc had a score to settle.

Watching the knights act as one to subdue Testarossa, Gaster cheered internally, assuming he was saved. If he kept throwing Mind Requiem her way, he reasoned, even a spiritual life-form couldn’t last long. He had included physical creatures in his previous attack, but this time, he adjusted it so it only affected spirituals. That way, no matter how lofty an Arch Demon she was, it’d be impossible for her to maintain her existence.

That’s what he thought. But again, he was too naive. This strategy didn’t take into account the fact that Testarossa was physically incarnated—it was meaningless to act only upon her mind, and his Mind Requiem had no hope of working.

But even before that:

“Oh my goodness, what a fond trip down memory lane. These are the people who defeated me before, aren’t they?”

“…What?”

“This is so nice! I was so rudely interrupted last time that I wasn’t able to eat a full meal back then. I had this wonderful meal set up for me, and just when I was set to dig in, that happened. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that.”

Testarossa’s voice, filled with malice, echoed across the area. Despite being blocked by the chain, she didn’t sound even remotely concerned.

“No! This evil presence…!”

“Look at her… Is that Blanc, the Original White?”

“It can’t be! We made so much of an effort sealing her away, and she’s back this quickly?!”

Testarossa laughed at how upset all three were. It was so wicked of her, yet so beautiful.

“Hee-hee… Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee! Ah, such lovely expressions on your faces. Fear, anxiety, and completely unfounded confidence. All you can do is pretend to yourselves, but you still haven’t run away from me? You certainly do enjoy engaging in wasted efforts, don’t you?”

“Shut up, demon!”

“We didn’t expect you to come back, but don’t forget—we’ve sealed you once already, remember? Boast about your victory after you beat us!”

“Davis is right. We’re going to destroy you down to the soul this time!”

This declaration was ridiculous to Testarossa.

“You guys are so funny to me. Are you sure you should be that self-confident? You think the exact same technique is going to work on me a second time?”

She asked the question as elegantly as could be, even as the Imperial Suppression Stance caught her in its grasp.

“Quit being a sore loser. Nobody here’s gonna listen to a demon’s nonsense.”

“Well said, Gordon. There’s no place for you in this world, demon. And if you couldn’t get it through your head once, we’ll bury you as many times as it takes!”

“Lieutenant General Gaster! Leave this scene to us, please. You and your troops should retreat!”

Davis was calm from start to finish. The Original White’s appearance was unexpected, but he still hadn’t forgotten his original purpose. He was attempting to defeat the wolf demon, the combined Gobta/Ranga. In order to achieve that, Davis intended to convince Gaster to withdraw his troops so Davis didn’t blow his cover finishing that monster off.

Not even Davis had the right to give orders to the higher-ranked Gaster. If worse came to worst, eliminating him from the picture entirely was a possibility. But with Blanc on the scene, now was no time for that. Davis had no hope of beating her while maintaining his cover—in fact, unless he got all the nearby troops out of here fast, they could all get caught up in this battle.

Gaster, unaware of any of this, was suddenly spurred back into action. He was having trouble keeping up with this situation.

Blanc? The Original White? What’re they talking about? Do—do they mean that Arch Demon? Ah, I can’t think about that now. Enough thinking about who this trio is— I gotta survive this!

Desperately slamming his brain into motion, he tried to come up with a solution. Then, in a panic, he used his unique skill Performer to order his entire army to retreat. But it was too late. The moment he had encountered Testarossa, all hopes had already been dashed.

Davis, Balt, and Gordon were three nameless heroes who had once defeated a powerful demon lord. The incident was known as the Bloody Shore, when Blanc—the dreaded Original White who ruled over the demons of the east—came dangerously close to incarnating herself in this world. Ever since, the Empire’s vigilance against demons had changed dramatically. Every city had its own demon control office now, and their summoning was banned by law.

If an Arch Demon was ever to physically incarnate itself, it’d require mobilizing the army to deal with it either way. If not handled property, it’d be a potentially city-wrecking disaster. Plus, this was a Primal, a very special existence among Arch Demons; their strength couldn’t even be measured in terms of mere magicules.

Ever since that incident, Davis believed it was sheer good fortune that let them defeat Blanc. But at the same time, he was confident that no matter how many times they staged that fight again, he’d never lose. Why? Because he was ranked eleventh. Even the strongest champions of the outside world were no match for the truly powerful, those who had lived for over a thousand years in the underworld. We’re talking the magic-born Razen, guardian of Farmus, and the Heroic King Gazel of the Armed Nation of Dwargon.

Otherworlders like Yuuki Kagurazaka and Hinata Sakaguchi wouldn’t cut it. Neither would Thalion’s Magus corps or Lubelius’s Crusaders. No matter their strength, they’d always be a mere blur before the Imperial Guardians. And even among this all-powerful group, the Single Digits held a special position. Davis, being ranked eleventh, served as their assistant.

His Majesty has given us this, the most powerful of gear. With our combined powers, there’s no way a mere demon could defeat us!!

Davis was brimming with confidence. Once he urged Gaster to retreat, he turned to his companions.

“Both of you, open it up! It looks like Blanc’s incarnated herself, but she couldn’t have stored up that many magicules yet. We’ll hit her with all we got!”

“Right!”

“On it!”

Gordon nodded; Balt smiled defiantly. As they acknowledged him, the pendants hanging from all three of their necks began to glow. The light soon became a torrent, enveloping their bodies—and what emerged from them were three warriors wearing golden full-plate mail. This was Legend-class armor, only given to the chosen ones. Imperial Guardians generally preferred their choice of weapon, but their armor was generally all the same. This was impeccable quality, handed down from ancient times; no ordinary person could even catch a glimpse of them. And now that they had it on, Davis and his companions were able to fight with all their might.

“Bad luck for you, Original White! Maybe you’ve gained a physical body, but that’s where it ends. Meeting us here was the end of your good fortune— Ngh?!”

To give him a better chance at finishing off Testarossa, Davis had put more strength into his grip on the chain. Then he noticed that there was no response from it. Testarossa, whom he had sealed up inside the chain, had slipped it off like a pair of pants.

“Look, do you think I’m going to let you do that?”

Davis turned toward the chilling voice. There he saw Testarossa, whose hand was on Gaster’s neck. With a dull snap, the lieutenant general collapsed. He was dead, killed by the demon without putting up the slightest resistance.

“How…?!” Davis instinctively shouted. Gaster might’ve been more than a little self-centered, but he was no weakling. He was a lieutenant general, and he had the ability to match—in fact, he had every right to join the Imperial Guardians’ ranks. Probably just a far-flung number, yes…but even so, he wasn’t the kind of man who’d go down that easy.

That…and Davis shuddered as he looked at his hands. The chain of holy silver, monster hair threaded through it; this Legend-class piece of gear had been battered to pieces. Confused frustration flashed across his face, as it did with Balt and Gordon. They had no idea when Testarossa had even moved, much less broken the chain.

And the hardship didn’t end there.

“Oh, were you waiting for me? If so, I’m sorry. This man was trying to escape, so I had to give him a little punishment. If I didn’t, you know, that’d be disobeying Sir Rimuru’s orders. We can’t have that, can we?”

Testarossa shot the men a lustrous smile as she sized them up. Then something else occurred to him.

“Ah, right. I’ve been wondering—would you three mind not calling me Blanc, or the Original White or whatnot?”

“What…?”

“I mean, you know, I’ve got a name now—it’s Testarossa. I’d really hate it if you didn’t use it, you see?”

The statement was a peal of despair for Davis and his team.

“Wait… A name? A name?”

“Testarossa… Some fool gave a Primal a name?!”

“First an incarnation, then a name…”

This was unprecedented. Suddenly, their position wasn’t looking so good after all.

“We must retreat. This crisis must be brought to His Majesty’s attention immediately.”

“Yeah, I hear ya. I’ll hold her off.”

“And I’ll set up a Warp Portal—”

The trio’s teamwork was beyond reproach. Quickly dividing work among themselves, they sprang into action, Gordon already casting the warp spell. Once they did, Testarossa let out an evil laugh—lovingly, beautifully, but with a truly sinister touch.

“What’s so funny?!” Balt shouted, taking up his spear and charging at her. But Testarossa had already disappeared. Balt had no chance of keeping up with her.

“Dammit, where the hell did you go?!”

“Over here.”

A hot breath blew into Balt’s ear, filling his nostrils with a sweet, fragrant scent. There was no need to turn around; it was Testarossa.

Then he felt a cold, delicate female hand on his neck, almost chilling his soul.

Ah—aaahhhhh?!

The image of the now-limp Gaster flashed through his mind.

“I hate it when people don’t realize the limits of their abilities.”

But it was questionable whether Testarossa’s voice even reached Balt.

Crack.

Balt collapsed, a sobering look of terror on his face, and that was the end of the thirty-eighth-ranked member of the Imperial Guardians.

Davis, watching all this, experienced a feeling of panicked self-doubt that disturbed his thoughts for the first time in several hundred years.

“Gordon, hurry up! She’s killed Balt. She’s too dangerous!”

His voice was colored with fear, regardless of his intentions. Gordon nodded silently, as if he understood. His teleportation magic now complete, the circle of magic floating above the ground began to glow.

“Okay, retreat!”

Davis sprinted toward the circle as he made the order…but the spell failed to activate.

“Wh-what? Why?!”

Testarossa kindly explained it to Gordon, as if ridiculing him for being so upset: “I’m not sure what’s so strange about that. I’m not using the magic canceler wrong, am I?”

Davis and Gordon had no idea what she was talking about.

“What? The magic canceler…?”

“Wait, did you re-create it with magic…?”

She looked at them and let out an exasperated sigh.

Testarossa had been sharing information with Ultima and Carrera via Thought Communication. Among the information she obtained that way was data on the magic cancelers installed on the airships. For Testarossa, re-creating and using the technology from the data she obtained was child’s play. But such an act was well beyond the scope of human common sense, and it’d be absurd to expect Davis and Gordon to understand it.

All they did know was:

“What…? What are you?! Whether you’re a Primal or not, there’s no way an Arch Demon can have that much power!!”

Davis was shouting now, trying to paint over his own fears.

“Y-yeah! You weren’t this overwhelming the last time we fought! What the hell did you do to evolve this much…? Evolve?”

Davis and Gordon looked at each other. Hearing his own cries, Gordon now understood exactly what was going on with Testarossa—no matter how much he didn’t want to. The same went for Davis. Incarnated, named—and thanks to that, what kind of being had Testarossa, the Original White, become?

Testarossa gave them a bemused look, leisurely eliminating all doubt.

“Oh, how clever of you! That’s right. Now that I have a name, I’m higher level than even an Arch Demon. Have you ever heard the term Demon Peer before? It’s something completely different from an Arch Demon. A pity I need to spell it out to people before they understand, isn’t it?”

It only plunged the two of them deeper into despair.

“D-Demon Peer…”

“The second coming of Guy Crimson…”

Only then did Davis and Gordon realize the gravity of the situation. This Primal hadn’t manifested herself just for a laugh—she had a firm will, and she used it to fully take root here.

“But didn’t you lose interest in this world when you lost the princess’s body…?”

“Not quite. By the time you came along back then, my contract with the girl had already been fulfilled. That’s why I left, although certainly not without my regrets.”

“No…”

“Oh, I’m sorry! Were you laboring under the assumption that you could beat me? Well, silly, I think you see that’s not going to happen now.”

It can’t be…

Davis could feel his own confidence shatter.

“I still haven’t forgiven you for interrupting my meal back then, you know.”

“…”

“H-hey… Davis…”

Neither Davis nor Gordon were able to move. Testarossa’s crimson eyes bolted them to the ground, like a snake staring down a frog.

“…Your meal?” Davis repeated.

All he could do was keep talking to buy more time. With that precious time, he desperately tried to figure out what was happening to his body. Anything so he could have a shot at Testarossa, proud and confident in her victory.

“That’s right. That beautiful lake was bathed in enough blood to turn crimson red, but that still didn’t make me full, you know.”

“…Nearly ten thousand innocent people died.”

“Well, that’s how our deal worked. Besides, you interrupted me before I could enjoy the main course, the most important part. Now that we’re all together and everything, why don’t we take this opportunity to have you atone for your sins?”

“Youuu…!”

Testarossa was the very one behind the Bloody Shore tragedy—but to her, that regretful disaster was just a simple meal.

And it’s still not enough…?

Davis’s heart seethed with rage. Flames of justice burned through the kindling of his fear. This evil, he thought, could never be left unchecked.

“An evil like you—”

Raising the gleaming sword in his hand, Davis struggled to escape Testarossa’s binding spell. The initial results were promising; he could feel his body regaining its strength…but Davis’s despair had only just begun.

“You’re not gonna kill them yet, Testarossa? …I don’t mean to interrupt, but I think it’s time to end this.”

A cute voice, not at all appropriate for a battlefield, was heard from above. It belonged to a girl with bluish-purple hair in a side ponytail—Ultima.

Even Davis, ranked eleventh in his nation’s hierarchy, could sense there was something unusual about her.

“Oh, is that you, Ultima?” said Testarossa. “Did I make you wait long?”

“Mm, I’ve just been taking my time with Gabil’s band, so I’m not one to talk…but Sir Rimuru asked us to give our all, so if we don’t finish this fast, he’s gonna be mad, y’know?”

“I sure don’t want that.”

“Right?”

“I just ran into some old acquaintances of mine, so we wound up chatting a bit… But you’re right. Let’s end this before Sir Rimuru gets angry.”

Davis couldn’t understand the conversation unfolding in front of him. Or really, it’s not that he couldn’t—he just didn’t want to.

No, no, no, noooo!!

Testarossa and Ultima were both doubtlessly on the same level.

Two Demon Peers…

Taking on just one of them was difficult enough. Having backup just sealed the deal. Davis’s flames of righteousness, burning hot inside him, had been painted black before he even knew it. Black with fear. The glory of being the eleventh Imperial Guardian was meaningless in front of this duo.

If it was just one Arch Demon, Davis might’ve been able to take care of it himself—but the reality of two Demon Peers almost broke his heart. He couldn’t be blamed for that; in fact, Gordon was already crouched down and sobbing. Once a quiet, reliable man, now he was behaving like a little child. Suddenly, Davis felt jealous of Balt, dying before him and all. He had passed on without even realizing the true identity of what he had been up against. How fortunate for him…

“Great idea!”

“Well, I’m sorry to say goodbye, but I have to go. I know—since we’re old friends and all, why don’t I show you the magic you wanted to see?”

Testarossa sounded as amused as ever, speaking to the stunned Davis. He didn’t know what it meant, but he did know the end was near.

From the deepest darkness, a black flame was called forth.

The flame, condensed to the size of a fist, shone on the palm of Testarossa’s hand. It was an abyss core, a notoriously hard-to-control type of hellfire, but Testarossa crushed it into her hand with ease.

Laughing to herself, Testarossa whispered in a singsong voice:

“…Death Streak.”

Davis’s eyes widened. He didn’t know what this magic was. He couldn’t comprehend it. No idea. But one thing was for sure—it was incredibly evil.

“And you over there; you know Guy Crimson, huh? In that case, you know what this magic is, don’t you? The same one Guy used when he became a demon lord…”

Sadly, Davis’s consciousness cut out at this point—plunging into an even deeper abyss of desperation, wishing he had never known anything at all.

………

……

…

The abyss core crushed into Testarossa’s hand became a black light that shone across the surroundings. It had the property of penetrating through almost all types of matter—a dark light that never occurred naturally. When it passed through a living being, it directly affected their genetic sequences, forcibly rewriting their genes to kill almost anything it encountered.

It was deathly magic, the epitome of pure evil—but according to tradition, it existed for a different purpose. The only ones who could withstand this magic were spiritual life-forms or those whose souls had memory-retention skills. Living things who could completely reconstruct their bodies after they were completely destroyed could escape this magic—and nobody else.

Spiritual particles, the tiny matter that made up magicules, emitted a special sort of wave. This was the light of darkness itself, difficult to counteract with magic and impossible to counteract via physical means. The only way to resist them was with other spiritual particles, and thus, the only way to resist dark light was with more dark light. No other type of protection was possible.

Exposure to this light produced a 99.999 percent fatality rate. But not even that was 100 percent—and so, extremely rarely, there were survivors. One in a million would react by turning their body into a monster and gaining new life. In other words, this magic also selected those most suitable for monster transformation, granting the victims their blessing.

It was the worst, most taboo kind of spell, this nuclear-level Death Streak. Instead of destroying physically like Disintegration, it accurately bore down only on the particles that created life memory. It was the ultimate forbidden magic, one that could destroy the very souls of people.

………

……

…

And so Davis, ranked eleventh in the Empire—and Gordon, ranked sixty-fourth and pretty much just along for the ride—became the first victims of Testarossa’s Death Streak. It didn’t end there.

Shortly thereafter, a ferocious rampage of death blew across the land, affecting everything within a five-hundred-yard radius. It didn’t distinguish between friend or foe, killing every living thing within that range, and that’s why Testarossa used Magic Sense to ensure there were no allies close by before launching it. And this was her going easy. If she had cast Death Streak with all dampers removed, everything within several miles would’ve breathed their last.

Death Streak was just as effective against spiritual life-forms as it was to anything else, but Testarossa had been careful to activate it in a way that wouldn’t affect their souls, so it was harmless to her and Ultima.

The two of them casually surveyed the results.

“Doesn’t look like there’s anything alive in this whole area. By the way, you did a really good job with these, Testarossa.”

“Oh? What do you mean?”

“These toys they call tanks, I mean. They all look in perfect shape, so we can bring them back intact and examine them more.”

“Well, of course. That’s why I cleaned out only the humans from here.”

“Mmm. Y’know, maybe I should’ve cast Death Streak, too, instead of cutting corners up there. Then maybe I wouldn’t have broken up all those toys in the sky.”

“True, Ult, you could say you were a bit too flashy there. But if we can recover that first sample that crash-landed, that ought to be enough for reference.”

“…Sure. Although I sure did cause a lot more damage to them than I thought. Those toys are so fragile! I only meant to destroy one, but I wound up breaking a whole bunch of ’em.”

“Well, so be it. Now that Sir Rimuru named us, we’re both stronger than ever. We’re gonna have to be more careful from now on, Ultima.”

“Yeah. I feel bad about it, too. But y’know, what I’m really worried about is Carrera. I’m not sure if she knows what the word restraint means, and you know how much she loves flashy magic…”

“That’s why she’s on standby over at our headquarters. Rimuru had the foresight to assign her to that, which I was certainly glad to see.”

“Ohhh! Well, that’s a relief!”

So they merrily chatted on. They may have been misreading Rimuru in a few ways, but nobody was around to point it out to them.

“And Benimaru’s a real worrywart, huh? Talking about how he thinks there are people in the Empire who can harm Sir Rimuru and all. Even asking us to go easy so we can find out who it is!” said Ultima.

“That is a little troublesome, yes. If all we wanted was to win, they should’ve just sent us out alone from the start. Then Sir Rimuru wouldn’t need to bother with anything at all.”

“Well, it was Sir Rimuru’s idea, wasn’t it? He even told us not to fight. I think he wanted to give Gobta and Gabil and their forces a chance to grow a bit. It’d be easy for him to just evolve them upward, but the only way to get experience is to actually do it, after all. Some dolt with a lot of power and nothing else is just a wimp to us.”

“That’s a great idea, I think. I get it and all, but…well, you know.”

“At least we got to perform in the end. That’s nice.”

Testarossa and Ultima were enjoying themselves well enough, but as they spoke, they were also carefully gathering up the souls of all the dead around them.

The forbidden spell Death Streak had a secret—there were no known successful cases of someone turned into a monster by it. The only way it ever would do the trick was if you had a soul left to be transformed. But if those souls were all being harvested, as they were right then, the chance of survival went from one in a million to exactly zero. They said the devil never gave you a straight deal, and this was maybe another example of that. A great way to hide the real probabilities, though. Testarossa and Ultima were aware of that, naturally, and that was why, once they were sure there were no survivors out on the field, they declared the battle over.

Witnessing the fate of those who messed with her never moved Testarossa’s heart. There was no real emotion; she treated them the same as anyone else. They had never been in Testarossa’s mind in the first place, so this was only natural.

And with that, the battle with her cohort was finished.

Two departments of the Armored Division that participated in this operation—the Magitank Force and the Flying Combat Corps—suffered total defeat. With the death of Lieutenant General Gaster, the Empire had lost its local base of operations, leaving the soldiers out on the farther reaches isolated and struggling to flee. Now the only question in this battle of annihilation was how long it would last.

Gaster’s Magitank Force numbered two hundred thousand servicepeople, while Major General Farraga’s Flying Combat Corps had forty thousand. Without a commander, there was no way for the imperial army to request a cease-fire… And so all the imperial forces on the ground and in the air lost their lives on the battlefield.

At that moment, the Tempest side was confirmed the victors. But this didn’t mean the end of the war. That was because General Caligulio, commander of the Armored Division, still had no idea about this defeat. And at that very moment, the Restructured Armor Corps—the heart and soul of the whole Armored Division—was about to hit the road for Rimuru, capital of Tempest.