Tensei Shitara Slime Datta Ken (LN) - Volume 13 - Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

TOTAL VICTORY

A full week had passed since the labyrinthine invasion began. One by one, the gate took in all those Empire soldiers—and still it remained silent.

Caligulio had to bide his time seething to himself over the unannounced news, the undelivered reports. That frustration was his body’s way of disguising the fear his instincts were manufacturing for him. Even at this late stage, he still had no contact with the other troops—and on top of that, all contact with the rest of the labyrinth was gone. At first glance, they seemed completely isolated behind enemy lines, which unnerved Caligulio.

“No one’s returned yet? Still?!”

There was no answer to his ranting—and that, in a way, was the best answer they could give him.

Both Caligulio and his staff officers knew the situation wasn’t looking good now. On the first day, they had sent squadrons of soldiers inside on multiple occasions, and they had brought intel on the labyrinth back for him. Nobody could get back out, but they could still initially communicate with the people inside, at least. Compiling what they relayed to him, he was able to get a rough idea of their status.

Upon entering the labyrinth, soldiers were required to confirm that they wished to remain inside. Once they did, they were presented with the conditions for beating the labyrinth:

DEFEAT THE TEN MARVELS WITHIN AND COLLECT THE TEN KEYS IN THEIR POSSESSION. DOING SO WILL GRANT YOU THE RIGHT TO CHALLENGE THE KING OF THE LABYRINTH. DEFEAT THE KING, AND YOU WILL HAVE BEATEN THE LABYRINTH.

They all thought it’d be easy at first, but now they had to admit it was a bad decision on their parts.

According to the information they managed to gather, the labyrinth contained at least fifty floors. Troops coming in would be transported to different floors in turns, a thousand at a time. That allowed new soldiers to eventually reach out to those who entered earlier, but these contacts didn’t begin to happen until over fifty thousand soldiers had stormed in.

Given the repeated sorties over three days, there were probably going to be fifty-four or so floors down there. The report from Shinji’s party, as given by Yuuki, stated that the labyrinth contained sixty floors, but it had become clear fairly early on that this intel was shaky at best.

After all, the strength of the monsters inside was far different from what they had heard. Shinji’s claim that the wight king was the boss of the labyrinth pretty much destroyed any shred of his credibility. The wight king’s floor was discovered on day two, judging by the reports, and apparently he was but one of the so-called Ten Dungeon Marvels. Some among Caligulio’s staff still feared that the rumors were true…but either way, nobody was smiling now.

“Even for our finest elites, it must be a great challenge…”

“Indeed, sir. If we don’t do something, I fear this entire invasion might end in failure.”

Caligulio shuddered. This was not acceptable to him. “Mission failed” was easy enough to say, but it translated to the deaths of five hundred thirty thousand imperial soldiers. Those were granted to him by Emperor Ludora, and every single one of them was a valued asset—there was no way he could simply abandon them all.

But they were still just seven days in. They had plenty of time before their scheduled limit; they must’ve still been fighting away inside the labyrinth. All Caligulio could do was trust in that and wait. That should’ve been the right option, but Caligulio—really, his entire staff, too—felt they were traversing a path straight to failure like this.

It was the Ten Marvels who made them think this way. Currently, the imperial soldiers had obtained four of the “keys” mentioned in the rules—specifically from the four Dragon Lords, who would apparently revive themselves again and again if beaten. As for the remaining six Marvels, however, nobody on the field had any idea how to even hurt them.

That was certainly true for the wight king, but even the Death Paladin by his side was a menace. Then there was the queen of the insects, the mistress overseeing a pack of magical beasts, and the attacking golem nicknamed the ghost of Gadora by the troops. And they didn’t even know the identity of the tenth and final one at all.

Unless they could defeat these six, beating the labyrinth was a pipe dream. And both Caligulio and his staff unanimously agreed that it simply wasn’t possible with the fighting force currently in the labyrinth.

“At this rate, we could put everything the Empire’s got in there and achieve nothing.”

“Indeed, sir.”

“That would be a waste of resources. It’d also affect our defenses here on the surface.”

So what were they to do? There was only one answer. They’d have to conquer the labyrinth the way it was always supposed to be conquered—with a small team of elites. But if that was their option, the question became who they would pick for the job.

After stewing over it for a little while, he decided to gather the best people who remained among the surface forces, a total of one hundred men and women. Only those who were truly elite (or at least, powerful and ready to show it) were recruited.

Sitting in the front row was an elegant-looking gentleman, wearing a neatly starched uniform despite being in a military field camp. This man’s name was Minitz, a high-ranked major general. Caligulio trusted him more than anyone else, making him his pick to command this operation.

Next to Minitz was a man smoking a cigarette, looking like he was pondering the sheer futility of life. His fearless gaze, as if staring down his prey, and his well-kept beard instilled a sense of awe in anyone who encountered him. Fortunately for him, he also had the talent to ensure that he never betrayed the expectations of anyone who challenged him.

This was Colonel Kanzis, a true champion with countless glorious achievements to his name—most notably, the notorious Operation Mystic Sweep, which he had personally commanded. He always kept a dignified demeanor, perhaps a sign of his supreme self-confidence; even when dealing with superior officers, he never showed a hint of fear. Very few people warned Kanzis about this, and they had no right to—he reported directly to Minitz, and Minitz tolerated his attitude well enough. Caligulio had his thoughts about this, but not to the point that he’d complain about one of the Empire’s most famed heroes. He left Kanzis’s handling entirely to Minitz, so if Kanzis went out of line here, there’d be no one to stop him.

Among the rest of the group of one hundred, Lucius and Raymond stood out in particular. They were both otherworlders. Lucius possessed the unique skill Fusionist, letting him set off highly explosive attacks that were the talk of the imperial army. Raymond, on the other hand, had the unique skill Combatant. As a former martial artist, this was basically his old job taking skill form—it made him a first-class fighter, mastering any weapon, fighting style, and Art he had learned in this world.

Those were the four most famous names, but the others were also walking armies of their own. They all ranked at least an A, and even among the Empire’s illustrious ranks, each was a one-in-ten-thousand talent. These one hundred people alone could destroy the knight corps of entire nations, and now Caligulio was entrusting the entire operation to this set of champions.

“All right. You understand the situation?”

They all silently nodded. Some—like Kanzis, of course—smirked at the question, but most were earnestly listening to Caligulio’s words.

“Our comrades in the labyrinth are currently awaiting relief. In order to leave, we must satisfy all the conditions, and that includes defeating the demon lord. My Armored Division is the strongest in the Empire, and I know they’re up to solving this most difficult of tasks. But ah, there is no time to waste!”

The labyrinth was not the kind of place you could overrun with human-wave tactics. Caligulio understood that now, although he could never honestly say so, lest he torpedoed his army’s morale. So he embellished things a bit as he spoke.

“You must defeat these so-called Ten Marvels and retrieve the ten keys they possess. That will apparently give you the right to challenge the demon lord himself. This is exactly what I expect you do to. The demon lord must be taken down!”

That was the mission he gave to the best the Armored Division had to offer.

“We accept, Lord Caligulio. The demon lord is no enemy of ours, for we are the glorious army of the Empire. Now it is time to prove that to you!”

It was Minitz, highest ranked among the group, who answered on the division’s behalf. With a graceful bow, he promised complete victory for his side, and no one around him had a single discouraging word. These were the brave heroes who would challenge the demon lord in his own domain.

But they were ignorant, and that ignorance was what kept them hopeful. They were unaware of the dangers the labyrinth held. Now would have been the perfect time to retreat—but it was too late.

Caligulio’s decision had simply come too late. The battle inside the labyrinth was already over. Nobody was left alive. But not realizing any of that, the chosen heroes marched into this dreadful labyrinth in the highest of spirits.

After being enthralled with the big screen for a fairly extended period of time, we had finally decided to take a break.

I just… I dunno. I guess I saw this coming. The Empire definitely ignored the warning on the gate, that’s for sure—and in epic fashion, too. In fact, they sent even more soldiers into the labyrinth than we anticipated.

“Amazing. Better than I ever thought it’d go.”

Benimaru nodded at me. “Indeed, and none of them were strong enough to cause particular concern. The Ten Dungeon Marvels must truly be that powerful, yes, but perhaps this is going to be easier than I thought.”

Even so, he wasn’t being careless. In fact, his attention was already back on the surface.

“Looks like there’s some more movement,” I said.

“Yes. I think they’re selecting a group this time, rather than relying on sheer numbers. I wish they could have reached that conclusion sooner, though. Then maybe the labyrinth forces would’ve had more of a struggle…”

“Well, hang on, it’s still turned out real good for us, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, true enough. But when things go this well, I suppose I can’t help but feel uneasy…”

That’s not exactly what I wanted to hear from Benimaru, but based on his attitude, I imagined he saw all this as a foregone conclusion.

But I think I saw the problem. He wanted the Empire to try harder so he’d have a chance to join the fray, didn’t he? I guess I kinda understood that feeling…or maybe not… No, I mean, if I did, I’d turn into a battle maniac like all these guys, right?

I’m not like Benimaru and the rest. I’m satisfied with these results. Besides—like I’ve said tons of times—in this world, quality counts for a lot more than quantity. This specially selected force must have been the enemy’s main war power. There was a decent chance they could beat the Ten Marvels individually, so now was no time to be playing around. Our objective was to thin out the enemy forces, and we certainly succeeded there. The Empire had one hundred thousand or so troops left, and in terms of size alone, they were now winnowed down to a point where the Western Nations could handle them solo.

You know how it is. It’s like at the gambling table: having your opponent win big at first, then taking advantage after they lose sight of when to fold. You’re picturing yourself as such a winner that even if you lose big later, you’re suckered into believing you can make it all back. Even if you know it’s a logical fallacy, it can be really hard to stop, you know?

That was exactly what happened to the Empire this time, and thanks to continually deploying their forces in there, their army was now well past the point of no return. For us, that was great—mission accomplished.

I was super happy with how well everything had gone so far, but we still hadn’t achieved our secondary mission—finding the most powerful members of the imperial army. There were a few decently strong individuals, but nobody who looked like they could take me down. Still… I dunno. The Rimuru who Chloe talked about in her story hadn’t become a demon lord. His strength was probably about where I was when I lost to Hinata—sorry, tied with Hinata.

But either way, I didn’t detect any real threats here so far. Maybe that guy with the Legend-class weapon Testarossa killed? Maybe Davis, that eleventh-ranked dude, had a shot at doing me in—again, not the current me, but the me from back when I fought Hinata.

In the end, I had to conclude that this threat to my life hadn’t quite shown up yet. There was no point stewing over it, so I put the topic on hold.

What I was really curious about right then were the thoughts of the enemy commander. If the situation was this dire for them, I’d think they would opt to retreat, normally. What could he be thinking?

Understood. Since communication is cut off with the rest of their forces, he likely lacks adequate awareness of the current situation. Presumably, they are clinging to a nonexistent hope to bring them victory.

Wow, way to lay on the sarcasm, Raphael.

That sounded legit to me, but in that case, maybe we were winning the information war a little too much. If their commander had a proper grasp of the situation, maybe he would’ve retreated a lot sooner.

Negative. If you do not hit an enemy thoroughly when you can, you will leave behind enmity that may come back to haunt you later. There is no need to show mercy to the intruders.

Yikes. Rough. It was brutally rational and ruthless, but it seemed like the right answer, too. If we left a sizable enemy force behind, the Empire probably wouldn’t give up on its ambitions—but if we kept hitting ’em hard, we could probably avoid further war, at least for the time being.

Maybe it’s best to do everything halfway instead. The enemy has families, too, right? Their next of kin are bound to be sad about this.

…Ah, but if we’re thorough with making them realize their own stupidity here, maybe that’ll help deter future wars. Maybe it’s not the good-guy approach, but in terms of eliminating little flare-ups in the future, it’s the right thing to do. Bit late for that now, but still.

Regardless, unlike Raphael here, I have kind of an indecisive streak. If the enemy flees, I let them do what they want; if they come back to attack me, I crush them. I’m letting the other side take the initiative with decision-making, and maybe that’s a little naive of me. It’s something I’m aware of, but honestly, it’s just part of my nature, and I don’t think it’ll be fixed too easily. I really don’t want them to attack me, deep down—the least amount of trouble in my life, the better.

As I internally whined about this, Ramiris sent me a Thought Communication.

(Got a moment, Rimuru?)

(Sure, sure. This is Rimuru. I’m open.)

The tone of her voice suggested it was nothing urgent. What could it be?

(Right, so um, another hundred or so are coming, right?)

(Looks that way, yeah. Real strong ones this time, too.)

(Mm-hmm! So the Ten Marvels just sent me a couple of requests.)

Ramiris laid them out for me.

Request number one was proposed by Gadora. Apparently he knew a couple of the people in this elite group: Lucius and Raymond, both otherworlders. He wanted a chance to talk with them and maybe have them defect to our side.

Request number two was from Kumara. She recognized another familiar face, but unlike with Gadora, this guy wasn’t an acquaintance so much as a target for revenge. This was the very person who had destroyed the Mystic Village that was home to Kumara and her friends, then sold the young Kumara (she was already nearly three hundred years old by that point, but still) to Clayman. I had no idea some bastard that vicious was working for the Empire. Eesh.

So those were the two requests. Now, what to do about them?

“What do you think, Benimaru?”

“Well, the human-wave approach is a good shortcut to victory, but it’s not exactly pretty. I realize there’s no such thing as a ‘pretty’ or an ‘ugly’ war, but I think we’re safe in granting Gadora’s wish. If he gets them to join us, then great; if not, it won’t hurt us very much.”

Seemed legit to me. It’d help us spread the enemy around, besides. I’ll let Gadora reach out to that pair, then. As for Kumara:

“No one seeking vengeance wants to be stopped in their quest.”

Benimaru putting it that way sure made it sound heavy. And come to think of it, hadn’t Kumara been under the thrall of Clayman’s Demon Dominate skill? If the man who brought her to that fiend was back here at the labyrinth, it was only natural that she’d be out for revenge. They say that nothing fruitful actually comes from revenge, but personally, I think it can bring closure. If you’ve got a lot of mixed-up feelings, it’s better to let them all out and free yourself, isn’t it?

(Okay, Ramiris, you’ve got my approval on both.)

(Oh, great! Thanks so much, Rimuru! You’re soooo understanding!)

(We’d like to get the enemy spread out anyway, so why don’t we do this? You can send Lucius and Raymond over to Gadora, and Kumara can have that, um…)

(The bearded dude! We don’t know his name, but he’s sure got a nasty face, doesn’t he?)

Something told me Ramiris was really favoring Kumara here. But I was with her on that.

(Yeah, send him over to her. And tell her I said good luck!)

(Okay! I’m on it!)

So I accepted the requests. Now, where should we send the rest of the Empire’s elites?

“I think that man over there is the commander. I’d suggest we give him to Apito to execute, Sir Rimuru. Alone.”

Benimaru could really stand to phrase things a little more lightly. Wasn’t he just talking about fighting “pretty” and “ugly” and stuff? I was amazed he was so eager to aim for a murderous strategy like that. But…yeah, I’d accept it.

(Also, Ramiris, that well-dressed middle-aged dude over there is the commander, I think, so can you send him alone over to Apito?)

(Him, huh? Taking away the commander so the whole team loses cohesion, eh? Great idea, Rimuru! I tell ya, you come up with the dirtiest tactics!)

…Pardon? Why was I the bad guy now?! And here Ramiris, completely ignoring my surprise, was remarking about how devious I was.

(And as for the other hundred-ish… You wanna just let ’em at Adalmann?)

(Roger that! My Dragon Lords all lost, but everyone else put in a real big effort. Let’s have ’em keep up the good work right to the end!)

She seemed a little peeved about it, but I couldn’t help her much with that. The Dragon Lords just didn’t quite have what it took to deal with a rushing army. Unlike with the other Dungeon Marvels, they resided in large arenas with lots of floor-type debuffs—great for hassling small parties, but if you had an army that could share information with each other and take countermeasures, that killed the advantage in no time flat.

Considering those circumstances, I still thought they fought pretty well. We may have had four keys taken, but the remaining six Marvels remained unbeaten. Hopefully we’d see them keep that up.

(Sounds great! But whatever you guys do, don’t let your guards down. There’s a chance they’ve got some really dangerous folks in there.)

(Oh, we’ll be fine, we’ll be fine! Besides, everyone’s itching to go hard now that they know you’re watching. And we’ve always got Master Veldora as king of the labyrinth, right?)

Good point. The idea here was to collect ten keys and beat the “king of the labyrinth,” after all. I found it hard to imagine Veldora taking a dive, so at least we could always rely on him.

(Right, right. Okay, best of luck out there!)

(You got it, Boss! See yaaaaaa!!)

With that excited farewell, Ramiris shut off the Thought Communication. Just a little bit more effort now, I supposed, and we’d be done. I turned my eyes back toward the big screen again, excited to watch the final battle.

Lucius and Raymond sat down on the stairway, breathing hard as they drank some water. The reports indicated that there were never monsters on the stairs, and while it’d be dangerous to take that for granted, it seemed safer than anywhere else, hence why they chose that for a resting spot.

………

……

…

Being summoned by Commander Caligulio and ordered to enter the labyrinth elicited no complaints from them. Just like Shinji and his band, Lucius and Raymond were otherworlders picked up by Master Gadora. He had kept them fed and protected back when they didn’t know right from left in this world, and they owed him a debt of gratitude for that.

But now Gadora was missing. He had led a special team on a mission to the territory of the demon lord Rimuru. He had come back once, although none of the other team members did; he told Yuuki they had been killed in battle. Then, not long afterward, Gadora himself vanished. There were a couple plausible rumors going around that Gadora had ventured back out to rescue his teammates. Those who knew Gadora’s personality found that a little farfetched, but if it was true, they couldn’t ignore that.

Besides, the people who joined Gadora—the ones said to have died in battle—were all very well-known to Lucius and Raymond. They were Shinji Tanimura, Marc Lauren, and Zhen Liuxing, and they had all become good friends after traveling to this world. Their deaths were hard to swallow, but the fact was that they hadn’t been seen in the Empire since. They had been sent to investigate the labyrinth, and Lucius was sure something happened between them and the demon lord Rimuru. It was reasonable to think that they tried taking him on, then died in the effort.

Some of the otherworlders like him were sad to see Shinji and his friends gone. Lucius and Raymond were no exception, and many others expressed their sorrow as well. Being from the same place had a way of instilling this sort of solidarity like that. Besides, Shinji was something of a leader type, a kind young man who never abandoned those in need. He could be a bit insensitive, but a lot of people looked up to him.

Lucius and Raymond both owed Gadora. They also wanted to find out if three close friends of theirs were safe. So after some discussion among their peers, it was decided that the two of them, having the most combat power out of their group, would go undercover on this campaign.

They immediately proposed the idea to Yuuki, who promptly rejected it. “It’s really dangerous to act right now,” he said. “All kinds of things are getting jumbled together, so I’d keep laying low if I were you. I can’t go into details, sadly, but I’m sure Shinji and his friends are fine, so…”

If Yuuki called it dangerous, it must really have been dangerous. But not everyone was willing to accept that. If their fates remained uncertain, some Empire otherworlder was bound to take matters into their own hands and take off for the Forest of Jura solo. And if it was gonna come to that, they all figured, they might as well send the combat specialist of the gang first, so they could deal better with whatever came along. Lucius was originally going to act on his own, but Raymond wound up joining him; they both secured transfers from the Composite Division to the Armored Division to join this operation, and neither of them told Yuuki about it.

With those motivations in mind, both Lucius and Raymond were waiting for Caligulio to give them the order sooner or later, and yet…

………

……

…

“Y’know, I’m startin’ to think going in was a big mistake.”

“Yeah. Maybe. I didn’t think the opposition would be this strong.”

They had both been dropped into Floor 59. They were originally going to be tossed right into Floor 60, not that they were aware of that—but there was a chance this duo was hiding their true abilities or that they were someone else entirely disguised as these two, so they wanted to test them out first. (This was the strategy proposed by Rimuru—or Raphael, really—and Ramiris accepted it, although she remarked about how oddly wary a move it was.)

So the pair were exposed to intense combat all across Floor 59. There was a litany of variable lasers, sonic cannons, and various other science-driven weapons. Isolation doors would come crashing down on them, locking them into rooms pumped with tasteless, odorless poison gas. All these weapons crafted in the lab on Floor 95 (currently Floor 100) had been implemented on Floor 59—and the icing on the cake was the attack golems.

These were based on materials Rimuru retrieved from the Puppet Nation of Dhistav, as discovered in the ruins of Amrita. After extensive research, they had re-created the ruins’ extensive defense systems, all of which were being put into thorough use here. Weapons that didn’t even need to be turned on at 10 percent to wipe out the imperial soldiers were now being used to test out Lucius and Raymond.

It was an offensive like none before, and the two of them had to expose all their deepest inner skills to survive. Raymond kept point, buying enough time for Lucius to unleash his killer blows. Lucius’s Fusionist skill did what it sounded like—it could mix materials and extract energy from them, and when used right, it could unleash attacks akin to nuclear magic. Gadora had discovered that skill and taught him how to harness it; that old debt of gratitude was still on Lucius’s mind as he fought.

The battle itself, luckily, ended in an overwhelming victory for them both. Despite all the destructive force they were faced with, neither the golems nor all the advanced techie weapons could finish them off. The sheer numbers, though, were absolutely off the charts. Breaking through all these traps was a huge challenge for just two people, and Lucius couldn’t be blamed for being so exhausted after a single day of work.

“Hey… So what now? Wanna go on?”

“You kidding me? We’ve only made it down one flight of stairs. We need a plan for this, or else it’ll be way too dangerous to take on that onslaught again.”

“Yeah. But we ain’t got no other choice, do we? The moment we walked in, we got separated from the group, so…”

Raymond was right, and Lucius knew it. But there was nothing they could do. Proceeding on would be dangerous, yes…but was there any better option available? Going up instead of down sure didn’t guarantee they’d ever escape the labyrinth—besides, if that question when they came in was to be believed, it was impossible to leave anyway until they beat this thing.

“It’s totally impossible to beat this labyrinth…”

“Yeah. Maybe if we had more time…but like, even if we did one floor a day, it’d still take at least a month. And if we take that long, we’re definitely gonna run out of food.”

That was the main problem. Lucius and Raymond hadn’t undergone imperial augmentation surgery, so they needed to eat regularly. Water they could manage themselves, but they had just two days of food on them—and if they kept running into floors with no monsters like before, they couldn’t rely on monster meat to supplant their diet, either. At this rate, lasting even three weeks was out of the question.

It was just one day after they went in, and already things were starting to look hopelessly bleak. But they weren’t giving up. They had come here because they wanted to find out about their mentor and friends. If they were going to give up and run at this point, they never would’ve volunteered for this in the first place.

“Hey, you think they can trust these things they gave us before we went in?”

Lucius pointed at his neck as he asked Raymond. This item was something Caligulio had given them before this operation, a prototype made at their R & D labs—a replica of the revival item Gadora had brought back. The commander told him that if he died in the labyrinth, this thing would resurrect him, although Lucius didn’t believe it.

“How can I trust him on that? And even if it does work, where’s it going to revive me?”

“Yeah, ’cause if you wake up on the spot, it’s gonna be right next to the monster that just killed you. They didn’t test that part out yet, did they?”

“Nah. They want us to instead. But why a necklace, though? Didn’t he bring back a bracelet?”

“Guess it shows how far the Empire’s lagging on that tech.”

This was, in essence, a knockoff made on a rushed timetable, so it wound up a little larger than the original was the explanation given to him. It only added to the sheer distrust. Who’d ever want to put their lives in the hands of a shoddy imitation?

“This, you see, I can only give to the truly special ones. And I firmly believe that you two are worthy enough to be entrusted with this!”

Sure, Caligulio had framed it as something special, but turn it around, and he was basically admitting they had no idea if it worked. They didn’t make any for the rank-and-file soldiers, so it was up to them to see what would happen. Maybe they could trust it more if they had some experimental data or something, but involuntarily testing subjects like this was ridiculous.

“Well, at least I’ll find out what happens when you die first.”

“Oh, man, don’t even joke about that,” replied Raymond, ever the realist. “No way I’m gonna rely on this anyway. Besides, don’t the Resurrection Bracelets this is based on run on the power of the demon lord Ramiris? If we try using a fake based on something we basically shoplifted from her, isn’t that gonna piss her off?”

Lucius shrugged his agreement, his thoughts largely the same. To them, the conclusion was obvious. They had to act as if resurrection wasn’t at all possible. All they could rely on were their own strengths.

So they stood up, sarcastic smirks on their faces.

“You ready?”

“Yeah. If we’re here ’n’ all, might as well go all the way. If it doesn’t work out, at least we’ll be forgiven for it.”

“You think? Like, maybe Shinji would just laugh it off, but her, you know…”

“Don’t even start. I just managed to forget about her, too.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m more scared of her than I am of this labyrinth.”

“Whoa, don’t spill your guts just because she ain’t here, man. You’re right and all, but…”

“Right? I can’t believe how insensitive Shinji can be. All that enthusiasm pointed his way, and it goes right over his head.”

“Totally. But that’s Shinji for you. And her, too, like…”

“Yeah. He’s a good guy. Maybe he’s survived all this, even.”

“Yeah. He had to.”

They both smiled. Even in these dire straits, they still held hope in their hearts, and they knew the path they had to take. So still smiling brightly, they started down the stairs, not even knowing what awaited them.

And then:

“H-hello there, Lucius…and Raymond, too! Listen, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you!”

“Yeah, something really good, y’know? So hear him out.”

“…Yes. Give him a chance.”

Encountering Shinji, Marc, and Zhen—the targets of their rescue op—immediately past the stairs made Lucius and Raymond freeze on the spot.

“Ah, it seems they might be a tad shocked. Well, allow me to ask you as well. Will you listen to what I have to say?”

A familiar voice boomed out from the gigantic golem looming before them. It was undoubtedly Gadora, the one Lucius and Raymond owed their lives to.

“Are…? Are you alive?”

“And…like, can you explain this, man?”

And so the battle of persuasion between the two sides began. It would take just a little more time before the two thoroughly confused would-be heroes saw things Gadora’s way.

All told, the job went surprisingly easily…and surprisingly successfully, too. Even Shinji’s gang, who announced previously that they wouldn’t join the war, volunteered for this particular mission—and thanks to them, the two sides reached an agreement with hardly any trouble.

Lucius and Raymond were apprentices of Gadora and friends to Shinji’s gang, but after that workout up on Floor 59, Lucius was the clear standout. His skill was just off the charts. All it took was a little tap on something in his hand, and it’d trigger a small explosion in front of him—one with nuclear-level force but limited to just a tiny range. The smallest motions seemed to let him produce the most amazing results.

The unique skill Fusionist let him transform matter itself, fusing it with other matter in the process. This let him, for example, throw a pebble or something at an enemy that caused the foe to blow up on impact. Even if a barrier of some sort warded off the pebble, it’d still explode the moment it hit the ground. It’d be neat if he could ricochet shots for situations like that, but since the “pebbles” Lucius preferred were small enough to flick with a single finger, that was a lot to ask of him. Besides, having a pebble ignite on this target and not that one was also tough to manage.

Still, this was one evil skill. Get the timing wrong, and he could easily end up burned. But Lucius had thoroughly researched. Exactly what kind of research, nobody besides him knew, but he certainly seemed to have perfected his craft.

Raymond, as his partner, demonstrated superb combat skills. His shield, meant to symbolize his own fighting spirit, was just as impressive; the way he used it to block all frontal attacks was a sight to behold. It even deflected the shock waves from Lucius’s explosions without complaint. As a team, they meshed really well.

So these were the real things, no disguises or whatever. They weren’t under any sort of mind control, and it seemed they really were here to find out what happened to Gadora and Shinji’s gang. They both seemed pretty trustworthy, and honestly, I was glad they were on our side. Now that they were on board, I’d have them work under Shinji’s group for a while as a kind of training period. I didn’t think we needed to worry about them betraying us, but it was just a precautionary measure. Once I saw how they did, I could upgrade them to the same status as Shinji and the others.

So all was well on Floor 60. But what about Floor 70?

Around a hundred people were huddled together in that hilly wasteland—confused at first, but a day later, they were calmer. They had pitched their tents on a hilltop with a good view, and a few of them had been sent to scout the area. There was no sign of any immediate offensive; clearly they were being very cautious. Their composure was quite impressive, especially considering we tossed their commander on an entirely different floor. These truly were heroes head and shoulders above the rest, I supposed.

“I thought they’d be more upset about this, really…”

“Oh, this is about what I’d expect. They’ve established a clear chain of command, so they can maintain order even if they lose their commander.”

Benimaru, unlike me, was pretty indifferent about it. A disjointed chain of command makes it impossible to carry out any sort of mission. Any force needs someone in charge, after all, and I can sympathize with anybody who wants that role clearly defined. But wasn’t this just a hodgepodge of heroes who’d never worked together before? If they could get themselves organized this quickly, then hats off to them, I guess.

“Are we, uh, good in that respect?”

“Of course. Gobwa is always around if I’m not, and she has many fine people under her as well. Tactical theory is a required subject for all members of Team Kurenai, so any one of us could feasibly serve as commander.”

Whoa. Nice confidence there. I never learned any of that. When did they?

“Ah. Well, great. So if they aren’t making any moves right now, what’s up with them?”

I decided to leave our chain of command in the capable hands of Benimaru and our other corps leaders. There was no point in me worrying about it, so I brought the conversation back to our current reality—the army camped out on Floor 70.

“For now, they’re likely investigating whether there are any survivors on the other floors. Along those lines, I’m afraid it’s hard luck for them. They might’ve found some on other floors, but there won’t be a trace here.”

Benimaru sounded almost like he pitied them. That made sense to me, too. I knew there were no survivors among the imperial army in the labyrinth, but they had to be down here in part to find their friends. I could understand if they wanted to track down survivors to help beef up their ranks. We all knew that was pointless, though—and in the meantime, it wasn’t much fun to just sit and wait for them to do something.

“Should we have Adalmann attack them?”

Shion nodded at my casual suggestion. She must’ve been getting pretty bored, not to mention eager to kick some ass—but as long as we had ample forces in the labyrinth, she still had to bodyguard me here. She understood that, of course, but she still wanted to get this over with and join in the battle outside, I’m sure.

“Hmm… Well, I doubt we’ll get anything more on them by watching them like this, no…”

Benimaru chuckled at Shion’s reaction as he said that. Then I sent an order to Adalmann, who promptly responded.

“Behold my grand actions, my master!!”

Huh. Sounded like Shion wasn’t the only one itching for a fight. Adalmann had his forces at the ready for the Empire, too. They had certainly enjoyed a long streak of victories, and it sounded like they wanted to keep the momentum going and round things out with one final victory.

“Okay, best of luck!”

“Yes, Master!!”

That bit of encouragement was the one signal he needed. Like a raging current, Adalmann’s army opened the gate and set off.

One hour later, we were greeted with a fairly astonishing sight. There were only three survivors left in the imperial force—but only three survivors on our side, too. Adalmann, Alberto, the death dragon, and that was it. So now it was three on three.

The other hundred or so had already fought the undead forces, killing them but losing their lives in the process, so there were no reinforcements for Adalmann’s side. His regular army of undead would revive themselves in three hours, though, so I figured victory was in the bag by then.

But:

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… What an interesting person.”

“Yes, very impressive fighting. I’d love to take a crack at him.”

That was some rare praise from Diablo and Shion. The enemy had some real winners among them after all—three, even. One was a dashing swordfighter, currently locked in combat with Alberto. One was a beautiful wizard, matching Adalmann blow for blow in a magic battle. Finally, one was a burly warrior, holding the death dragon back all by herself.

They had some familiar-looking glowing armor that they summoned out of nowhere, so I assumed they were in with the Legend-class dude that Testarossa killed earlier. They were all of the same design, so they must’ve belonged to the same organization.

“That swordfighter is fiendishly strong. An even match for Alberto, I’d say,” Benimaru remarked.

Alberto and the dashing man were exchanging god-tier blows at a level one almost never saw. Both fought with sword and shield, and both were definitely making a good fight out of this. Like Benimaru said, an “even match.” In fact, the guy seemed even stronger than the one Testarossa beat; maybe he was higher up in that ranking of theirs.

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… I think Adalmann’s faith in you is slipping. Failing to keep up with someone like that in magic…”

“No need to be so harsh, Diablo. That armor protects him from magic of all elements, whether holy or evil. It’s no wonder Adalmann’s at a disadvantage.”

Shion’s commentary was correct. Adalmann had the skill Holy-Evil Inversion, but that Legend-class armor was just totally cheating. In terms of resisting magic, it offered almost complete protection, and you’d need something as powerful as Disintegration to take it out—a spell in Adalmann’s wheelhouse, but his opponent wasn’t letting him break it out. He was trying to use some smaller magic to leave his opponent open and strike him there, but I think both sides were thinking the same thing there, and so it looked like they’d be struggling for a while to come.

But I definitely couldn’t forget about the last guy, either. A real piece of work, him. I mean, he was taking on a death dragon all by himself.

In his case, it seemed like he had abandoned any hope of actually winning. The death dragon’s regenerative abilities were so impossible to counter, he knew he didn’t stand a chance of offing it entirely. So he continued humbly fighting on, trusting that his companions would see themselves to victory. Really, if it wasn’t for that behind-the-scenes effort, this would’ve been over long ago. The death dragon was too much for even Soei to defeat, so if this dude was decently keeping his own against it, he was more trouble than I thought.

“So how do you think it’ll turn out?” I asked. Everyone replied in different ways.

“Alberto is the superior fighter, but given his gear disadvantage, he’s going to lose this battle.”

“Adalmann is trying to grab victory too quickly. If he could approach this with a cooler head, he would have won by now, but as is, he lacks much of a decisive factor. If Alberto is defeated in the meantime, he’s going to be overwhelmed fast, I think.”

“There is no such thing as defeat! Only victory shall be ours!!”

That all made logical sense, except for Shion. Benimaru and Diablo had similar opinions; they both saw Adalmann and Alberto losing. As for Shion… Well, I guess she was attempting psychological warfare or something? That sounded more like a wish than an opinion to me.

“Okay, so we’ll lose this round? Is that trouble?”

“Well, even if they do lose, we still have the other Dungeon Marvels on hand. Besides, I can beat them, so we should be just fine,” said Benimaru.

“Of course!” Shion added. “And I can beat them, too, so please don’t worry, Sir Rimuru!”

Benimaru sounded really confident, so I figured we’d find a way out of this. Shion, meanwhile, was Shion. I’d have liked to ask her for some evidence to back that up, but I doubted she’d have an answer. It was certainly in character for her, so I was glad for all that spirit anyway.

“There is no need for concern, Sir Rimuru. Among the Marvels, we still have Zegion, Sir Veldora’s disciple. As long as he remains in the game, I believe you have nothing to be bothered about.”

Diablo added a “keh-heh-heh-heh-heh” at the end for effect. It was rare for him to offer praise to other people. It reassured me a bit. Maybe everything was going to be okay.

As we spoke, the match seemed to be approaching its climax. I was hoping maybe they’d find a way to win if they were given more time, but unfortunately, the enemies must’ve had that same thought.

“I was hoping we could push right through you, but apparently now when you die, you can boast in hell about how much you riled me up!” the dashing man shouted at Alberto.

Did he have some kinda secret move he was keeping under wraps until now?

“Before you die, allow us to introduce ourselves. I am Krishna, a knight of the Empire—the seventeenth-ranked Imperial Guardian!”

“I am Reiha, ranked ninety-fourth.”

“I am Bazan, ranked thirty-fifth.”

Ahhh, so they are Imperial Guardians. Gadora told me about them, but they really did have a great lineup, I guess. The man Testarossa beat was ranked eleventh, but I really thought Krishna was a better fighter than him—maybe your number wasn’t directly correlated with your actual ability. Given how Reiha acted a lot more upper-crust than Bazan, I think my hunch was correct.

But back to the battle. After that pause to give out their names, Adalmann’s side seemed to have rallied a bit. I thought it’d help them get back on track, but sadly, no dice. Krishna versus Alberto was the decider here, especially once Krishna broke Alberto’s Cursed Sword. Broke—or shattered? Maybe more the latter. It was a huge difference in weapon performance.

That Cursed Sword was a fine piece of work from Kurobe, you know. It was the best weapon Alberto could wield, although no average person ever could. But he was pitting it against a Legend-class blade.

Krishna’s fighting style, it seemed, involved waging extended combat to gradually damage his opponent’s weapon until he had a chance to smash it fully apart. Hindsight is twenty-twenty and all, but at least we learned a bit about his strategy for the future.

With the loss of his weapon, Alberto was defeated—and with his stout partner gone, Adalmann was now at a disadvantage. He proved surprisingly able to hold his ground, pulling off some brilliant defensive maneuvers you wouldn’t expect from a rearguard fighter, but soon he was overpowered and brought to his knees. Now it was three on one against the death dragon, and before long, he was gone, too.

If Alberto’s sword didn’t break like that, I’m sure it would have turned out differently. It’s absurd to expect a magician to compete against a warrior in physical combat, so I’m gonna pin the blame for this on him. In fact, I should praise all of them for drawing out all their enemy’s inner workings for us.

In the end, though, things worked out as Benimaru and Diablo predicted. The enemy now had two more keys, but no helping that now. The opponent put up a good fight, and they deserved to be applauded. So Krishna’s three-person party dealt us the first truly bitter defeat of this campaign.

Well, we can do a postmortem on that encounter later. Let’s move on.

The big screen was now displaying a dual simulcast of the battles on Floors 79 and 90, and in both cases, they seemed to be reaching their climax.

Kumara, I have to say, was really taking this to extremes. I suppose she was out for revenge against that bearded guy, though, so it only made sense.

Apito, on the other hand, was duking it out in another surprisingly close match. I’d put her strength as about the same level as Hinata’s, but without the magic—and if this guy who looked like the commander was fighting on an even keel with her, he had to be good. Real lady-killer, too, I bet—but absolutely on par with Krishna before.

So how would it turn out? We all had our eyes glued on the big screen, watching with bated breath.

Major General Minitz, dressed in his most prized of tailored suits, strolled through the labyrinth.

The design of his outfit was the same as any regular officer’s, but the fabric was different. Every thread of it had been carefully selected, with magic force woven right into the cloth. A single suit would cost as much as a colonel’s annual salary, but it offered luxury on a level even Minitz would be satisfied with. Elegance, in a word, was what Minitz was all about—and that was what made him so dissatisfied with his current situation.

War was supposed to be fought with overwhelming force, intimidating the enemy and aiming for victory without a fight. Sacrificing lives was out of the question—and if your own troops were making that sacrifice, that called your commander’s competence into question. It was precisely because of this that Minitz had declared this operation a failure before it even began.

However:

“Well, I suppose it’s the curse of the servant class, not being properly able to state the obvious out loud…”

Even with that complaint, Minitz smiled boldly. He usually didn’t receive much attention, as Kanzis serving under him had a tendency to hog the spotlight, but Minitz himself was one of the imperial army’s greatest heroes. Just because it went against his fashion sense didn’t mean he was soft enough to abandon a war.

“…This Rimuru character, though… He does enjoy making life difficult, doesn’t he? And I suppose anyone would if they had the chance… But sending me, the commander, alone to some random place? Now our small gathering of brave men and women might be scattered and picked off, one by one. I’m sure Kanzis will find a way to survive, but…”

Minitz was talking to himself, not caring who heard him, and in spite of all the vitriol, he looked pretty content. It was the first time in a while that he felt his heart soar like this. Not once in his life had he ever felt exposed to so much danger. Typically, his rank ensured he was rarely, if ever, allowed on the front lines. He was an upper-class nobility, not some upstart, and once he retired from the military, he’d have an even loftier career track than Caligulio waiting for him. He already had enough connections in politics that he had built up his own faction among the government’s lawmakers.

The reason someone like Minitz was still in the military was simply because he had a deeply instilled passion for fighting. He loved to see blood, and now that he had this opportunity, he could go wild to his heart’s content. It was easy enough to take the tension off his face.

He had been transported to Floor 78, one above the floor controlled by Apito. This was meant to help with analyzing Minitz’s abilities. So he pressed along through the empty field, swatting away the insect swarms as he searched for the stairs leading down.

“I just hate bugs… Just the sight of their legs flitting around all over the place disgusts me. I’ve got to get out of here, posthaste.”

With that arrogant remark, Minitz swung his hand over to his side. That alone summoned a mighty gust of wind, breaking down hundreds of insects into dust.

That was Oppressor, his unique skill, and it was a pretty straightforward one. From psychological oppression to physically crushing matter, it affected everything in his line of vision. There was no way to escape it—anything caught in its grasp was turned into scrap, organic or not. He didn’t even need to do that theatrical arm wave, either; just a glance could destroy most anything. The power had made Minitz undefeated in battle up to now.

“These guys are pretty fragile, aren’t they? I’m hardly seeing any resistance at all here. So boring. Wish they’d try a little harder for me.”

Literally nobody could stop Minitz. He ran into a swarm of over-A insects on Floor 78, but he killed every single one of them. They were no match at all for him; it was over in an instant. Truly, he was invincible, and if you had that kind of power, you’d probably be just as arrogant as him.

In a few hours, Minitz found the descending stairwell. Figuring they led to deeper floors, he decided to take a leisurely break atop them.

The leather bag slung around his waist was a fancy (and expensive) magical tool. From it he produced a hot, freshly prepared meal to enjoy. The bag also contained a magic-warding bedding set, tent included, allowing Minitz to sleep as soundly as a baby. To him, this labyrinth wasn’t even a fun diversion.

The next day, he casually strode into Floor 79—and there, he’d finally meet a worthy enemy.

The attacking army wasps, “silent killers” as they may have been, were mown down in an instant by Minitz. No matter how tricky the monster he faced, as long as he could lay eyes upon it, the jig was up.

“Heh… The monsters here are no match for me, either. What a disappointment!”

Minitz’s bold words were enraging someone else on the floor. It was Apito.

Given his knack for catching enemies no matter how they snuck up on him, Minitz clearly had a keen Magic Sense ability. In which case, there was no point setting any more army wasps on him—and so the queen herself came on to the scene.

“You’re acting well beyond your abilities, human.”

“Oh, am I? Can you put up a bit of a fight, then? Because you don’t seem too different from the rest of the bugs here…”

He stepped upon the mounds of wasps on the ground as he spoke. It made Apito’s rage amp up several degrees further.

“You’re dead.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

And so the fight was on.

Minitz began with a casual approach, giving Apito no credit at all. He wasn’t being careless; it’s just that he thought Oppressor could easily smash this foe to pieces. It didn’t take long to realize how naive this idea was.

Waves of interference poured over Apito as she entered his eyesight, placing intense pressure on her. This was actually an invisible gravitational force, one Minitz could arbitrarily apply to surrounding matter to give the pull force direction. Using this force—on par with the kind a massive star exerts—he could apply pressure from any direction he pleased, manipulating the pushing and pulling forces to make any object explode or implode. The only way to oppose it was to have a body strong enough not to be affected or to release some kind of directional force that could cancel out the forces acting upon you. Minitz had never run into anyone who could do that—and therefore, he was invincible.

It was with that absolute confidence that Minitz unleashed his skill. But the scene he was rewarded with wasn’t exactly what he expected.

“…Hmph! Too late?”

Minitz had successfully shattered only the afterimage of Apito. It wasn’t that the queen had stumbled upon the true nature of his power; she did, however, notice the directional nature of it. If she moved quickly enough, she surmised, she could escape its area of effect—and it worked.

“Heh-heh-heh! Just as I thought, then. Now, can you keep up with my movement?”

Apito kept going faster and faster, making it hard for Minitz to effectively attack her despite his keen Magic Sense. But if anything, this inspired Minitz.

“How interesting. This would be so boring otherwise!”

Unleashing his abilities to the fullest, Minitz established a force field around himself, walking forward in order to block Apito’s way. The queen was forced to fall back. The passageways in this labyrinth were a good five yards wide, but attempting to slip past Minitz would get her caught in his force field.

“Ngh. Nasty.”

“That’s what I was going to say!”

Neither side gave an inch.

After extensive training from Hinata, Apito’s moves were sharp and refined. She could even make the paladin captain sweat trying to keep up with her moves—but it didn’t mean much if she couldn’t come close enough to Minitz to attack. If she ever stopped, she was instantly in danger—one exposure to his pressurizing waves, and she was bound to pay for it.

Maybe making myself known wasn’t such a good idea after all. If we could retreat back to my royal chamber, I’d be able to fly around much more freely. I don’t know how long this man’s stamina will hold out, but if I’m going to find a way to win this, I have to drag him back there.

Apito’s mind was thus made up. There was no shame in retreat here; Apito’s basic policy was always to greedily aim for the win. And Minitz didn’t mock her at all when she ran away. Realizing it was a strategic retreat, he cautiously gave chase. No need to hurry. Better to conserve his strength, rather than overreact here.

Heh-heh-heh… Battle must always be done with a certain elegance… But if someone’s going to lose, better to struggle in vain than give up the fight.

Minitz sensed something beautiful in Apito. Unlike the other monsters, this was someone who fought with true grace. It’s only natural for a fighter to choose a battlefield advantageous to them. He’d never chide her for that—in fact, he was grateful she was doing everything she could in this fight. So he came after her, never underestimating her, always thinking about how he could hunt her down.

They eventually arrived at a large, wide-open space, a chair placed atop a dais on one end.

The queen’s throne, I presume? Well, fine, then. A fitting place for you and me to settle our score.

He was ready and willing to take the enemy’s offer— But please, he arrogantly thought, just make this entertaining for me.

“Right. Is the game of tag over now?”

“Yes. By my name as Apito, the Insect Queen, I will do my very best to entertain you here.”

“Sounds enjoyable. I am Major General Minitz, and I am here to kill you. Ready for round two?”

With that bit of bravado, Minitz accelerated. He was taking a wait-and-see approach with his moves before, but now he was serious. He couldn’t surpass Apito’s speed, but he still wasn’t falling behind her at all. But it didn’t faze Apito. Rising high into the air, she laid on even more speed, making Minitz look like a fool.

That, too, was within Minitz’s expectations.

“No you don’t! You should never underestimate my power!”

The shout came after he released it. From the very top of the dome-shaped space they were in, an invisible force field descended, trapping Apito. Controlling the gravity within, he kept her flat against the ceiling.

“Gnh…?!”

Minitz snorted at the distressed Apito. “Heh-heh… Oh, does it hurt? Well, I’d like to crush you to death right now, but you’re a little too strong for that. Any ordinary monster would’ve been easily flattened at this distance, but…”

He came closer to Apito. His power varied depending on the distance away from him, but as he approached, the pressure kept getting higher and higher—easily enough to crush someone as tough as her. Now that Apito was in his sights, he no longer had to unfold his power in every direction. Focusing it all on her, he was practically guaranteed a quick victory.

That was a trickier fight than I anticipated, but I guess she was nothing special after all. Although, she did entertain me. I suppose I could repay her with a painless death.

Minitz wasn’t a fan of tormenting his foes. All he wanted was the rush of the fight and the thrill of the ensuing victory. That was why he wanted to show some mercy to Apito, out of a sense of pure goodwill. But:

“Don’t count me out yet, human! I told you I’d give you my very best!”

With that shout, Apito—surely suffering under the pressure—flew back into the air. Her wings were torn, her arms and legs bent in odd directions, and from antennae to stinger, she looked like a wreck—but her will to fight hadn’t faded in the slightest. She, too, wanted victory more desperately than anything else.

“Sir Rimuru is watching this battle, too. No matter how pathetic I look doing it, I must expose my enemy’s skills, at least!”

“Heh-heh-heh… How funny. You think you can expose my power? You’ll be dead long before that!”

Once again, Minitz generated a force field covering himself. With his powers of repulsion and attraction, he could drive away anyone who tried to approach him, keeping them planted to the ground. This was his approach to finishing off Apito, but Apito wasn’t going to stay down forever. Soaring up faster than Minitz could perceive her, she kept her distance, trying to avoid being caught in his waves. Having no way to attack him was terribly frustrating, but his opponent didn’t have infinite stamina. The limit would have to come sometime, and Apito was just waiting for that moment.

Would Minitz get exhausted first, or would Apito run out of steam first? Thus the battle of endurance began.

Things only started changing several hours into the contest.

Following Hinata’s teachings, Apito tried every possible means of attack. Her broken limbs now gone, she continued to desperately fly around on her torn wings, searching for some kind of opening from Minitz. She shot poison stingers at his blind spot; she vibrated her wings to unleash razor-sharp shock waves; she summoned her army wasps to attack him from all directions—all so she could find something to weaken Minitz’s power of interference.

What that did was completely wipe out her army wasps. They might have been lower in caste than her, but Apito still summoned them herself. It was impossible not to be disappointed… But even so, she kept on making them continue the suicide attack.

Thanks to all that, Minitz was hardly unscathed. The expensive suit he had been wearing was in pitiful shape. All his elegance was stripped off, revealing the increasingly desperate evasive maneuvers he was taking.

“Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee… You seem tired.”

“…You too. Honestly, I’m surprised you’ve held out this long.”

“Didn’t I tell you? No matter how pathetic I look doing it, winning is all that matters.”

“And I agree…except I’m the winner here!”

Both were showing amazingly contrived stoicism. They were both so utterly exhausted that they could barely keep standing—but despite that, they still boasted their strength to each other.

“You’ve got a lot of strength. I’ll admit that. But you’re not completely flawless. Let me promise you this—with my next attack, you’re going to die!”

Apito, floating in midair, made that declaration to Minitz. Her face was stained with her own blood, but she made the statement with a beautiful, radiant smile.

Squinting at her, Minitz’s lips curled upward. “I look forward to that. In that case, let me promise you that my next blow will make all your pain go away.”

Neither had much strength left. If they both wanted to end it with the next shot, that indicated just how little stamina remained within either of them. So they went back to full speed, not thinking at all about the consequences.

Apito’s plan was to anticipate which way Minitz’s pressure waves would go and change her trajectory just before they hit her, landing a bruising tackle right before he could react. Minitz, meanwhile, anticipated this. The question in his mind was: How much did Apito know about his remaining power? Could she really see when his invisible pressure waves would be launched? If she could, he’d have to change his response.

In the end, Minitz decided to believe in himself. There was no way she could see through all that. And at that moment, the battle was decided.

The instant Minitz released his power, Apito changed direction—not based on his waves, but on her own intuition, just as Minitz predicted.

I win, Minitz thought, smiling.

I’m dead, Apito thought, doing the same.

Her attack had been predicated upon her death from the very start.

“It’s over, Queen Apito!” Minitz gleefully shouted. And the moment she felt the invisible surge of power enveloping her entire body, Apito opened her mouth wide and attempted to launch her final move. This was Queen of the Needles, a barrage of all-powerful poison needles she would only release upon the risk of death. They were created not from mystical, magical force, but from a part of her own body, making them tough enough to easily pierce magisteel. Enough of these, fired at point-blank range, ought to penetrate Minitz’s force field—was the conclusion she made.

Minitz’s own force compressed her body in the meantime, even as the needles stabbed through his defensive force field. The decisive moment was here.

The end result was a double knockout. Although unhappy about failing to score a complete victory, she was still more than satisfied that she had done her part. Death, after all, was not the end—the labyrinth would resurrect you as many times as you wanted. So Apito disappeared from her throne room, awaiting her imminent rebirth.

Once he saw she was gone, Minitz decided to rest quietly until his wounds healed. That attack just now had shattered his heart, but he was still alive. This still wasn’t enough to kill somebody like him; given enough time, the wounds would heal. Being able to throw himself into a battle like none before had filled that shattered heart with indescribable joy.

What an excellent fight that was. I only wish I could have tasted more of it. Then I could have proved I was the strongest…

Still basking in the aftermath, he found he was yet unsatisfied. If anything, his instincts were begging him to fight someone even stronger. Only through challenging and surpassing his limits, he thought, would he ever grow stronger.

Then, like an answer to Minitz’s prayers, something strange happened. A booming voice echoed across the chamber.

“…Excellent fighting.”

The voice had the timbre of a champion, one who had made many of the worthy bow down to him before.

“My name is Zegion. You now officially have the right to fight me. If that is what you desire, come to me.”

Minitz opened his eyes again, as if guided by the voice. A dark vortex had somehow appeared in front of him.

Are you going to entertain me? If you do, then it’d be rude not to take up the offer…

His body still needed healing, but Minitz nonetheless shot to his feet, not even flinching. Without a moment of fear, he headed off to accept the invitation.

Once, there was a hidden settlement known as the Mystic Village. It was said to be one of the world’s secret paradises, a place where spring was everlasting.

But not any longer. It was overrun by the imperial army twenty years ago, and now it had been wiped off the map entirely.

Recalling that fateful day, Kumara almost lost herself in rage. She had been so helpless then, and thanks to that, she lost her mother and her friends.

Her great mother was a mystic creature, a monster with power comparable to a demon lord’s. But she was a calm, gentle soul, and she never showed any hostility toward humankind. The kings of the magical races who treated humans as enemies collectively called themselves mystic lords, a force different from the Ten Great Demon Lords and just as much of a threat to humankind—but that had nothing to do with the Mystic Village. Magical races and mystic races were not at all the same thing, and mystic lords were merely the tribal kings of species unknown even to most others.

But humankind—or the Empire anyway—must not have been willing to accept the existence of Kumara and her kind. So the Mystic Village went on the sacrificial chopping block, a demonstration of the Empire’s military might aimed at its own subjects.

The Mystic Village was on the border between the demon lord Clayman’s domain and the Eastern Empire. The area between the foot of the mountains on the Dhistav side and the forest on the imperial side was home to a hidden entrance to another world. Boasting the blessings of the forest, the produce of the mountains, and an eternally mild climate, it truly was a comfortable place, living up to its touted name as the land of everlasting spring.

Being on the border, the inhabitants carelessly assumed they would never be attacked—the Empire and the demon lord Clayman had forged a secret nonaggression treaty. This peaceful situation eliminated their sense of danger.

Suddenly, armed soldiers attacked the Mystic Village, giving them no warning at all. The warriors defending the village could offer little resistance, and all their comrades were killed. Kumara’s mother, the previous generation of Nine-Head, lost her life with them. She had power but never liked to fight—and despite being human, there was no way she could defeat a trained, professional soldier.

And there was no forgetting that man.

“Your name is Kanzis? Of course I remember it. The name of the man who took my mother and everyone else’s life…,” spoke the vindictive Kumara.

The bearded man with the loathsome smile was an enemy so hateful that killing him wouldn’t bring Kumara peace.

As a reward to Clayman, Kanzis offered Kumara, the young child of Nine-Head he had captured alive. All the village’s treasure was stashed away in their own pockets. They told their subjects that the threat of the Mystic Village was now over. This “threat” was a criminal act of the aggressors’ own making. In order to prove the danger of the Mystic Village, they rounded up some nearby residents and merchants and brutally killed them. And at the end of the day, the frightened imperial subjects treated them like heroes…

It was Clayman, of all people, who told Kumara about everything going on behind the scenes.

The more resentment Kumara felt toward a human being, the more powerful she became. It boosted her mystic power, and with that, her “rank” as a monster. Being such a valuable Nine-Head mystic beast, she was regarded as a great asset by Clayman—and so she survived, as his pet.

Just as Clayman predicted, Kumara’s grudge ballooned over the years—and with it, her power. He even made her the thumb of the five fingers, as his top officers were called.

Then fate took another turn for her, and she was picked up by Rimuru. With him, she found out what happiness was, her emotional scars healed by contact with the children he helped out… And right at that point, she met her mortal enemy once more.

“I’ll kill you. I will use every bit of my might to kill you where you stand…”

With that whispered oath, Kumara waited for Kanzis’s arrival.

Colonel Kanzis, on the other hand, didn’t seem fazed at all to be thrown into a spot in the middle of nowhere.

He was a self-made career military officer, a symbol of the meritocracy the Empire prided itself on, and it was with a single fist that he rose to his current rank. He never thought twice about getting involved in evil deeds; in many ways, he was the embodiment of career ambition. Even the whole Mystic Village affair, in his eyes, was a legitimate move to strengthen his position and power. For the greater peace, a small sacrifice was insignificant. He didn’t feel guilty about it at all, seeing his actions strictly as a necessary evil.

But despite any lack of conscience he had, there was no doubting his abilities. If he actively participated in the ranking duels, he’d definitely be selected for the top hundred. But Kanzis wasn’t, strictly because he had no interest in joining the Imperial Guardians. His own interests would always come ahead of his loyalty to Emperor Ludora—and above all, Kanzis had a commanding officer he trusted with all his heart.

That man’s name was Major General Minitz. He was an equal to Kanzis in skill, and he was the first to scout him out and push him to the top. Kanzis’s goal in life was to bring Minitz to the upper echelon of the military, then take full control while serving underneath him. It was a dream he worked hard to achieve, and that was why he thought this invasion was such a perfect opportunity for him.

Caligulio’s blundering in the Forest of Jura was clear to everyone; he’d face severe punishment for it, no doubt. The groundwork for that moment was laid by him in Minitz, a secret conspiracy whose goal was to unify support within the Armored Division around them instead. If he could rescue the hundreds of thousands of soldiers stranded in the labyrinth and win their loyalty, that’d vastly increase the membership in his faction overnight—and once that happened, Caligulio would become redundant.

“Heh-heh! Don’t make me laugh. You think anyone would let you climb to the top of the military through political maneuvering alone?”

Kanzis sneered at his superiors. They weren’t here anyway, so he felt safe enough doing so. Then, mind free of all concern, he set off to search for his surviving troops.

After about a day of that, Kanzis began to think something was amiss. Ignoring the fact that this “labyrinth” had entire forests and deserts inside it, he couldn’t find a single other human being anywhere—or for that matter, a single monster. Every floor he journeyed through was eerily quiet, the sheer undisturbed stillness making it seem silly to expect a battle around every corner. Kanzis wasn’t the sort to let up because of that, but his Predict Danger skill wasn’t giving him anything at all, filling his mind with anxiety.

“Hmm… Seems like they’re trying to catch me off guard. Maybe they’re concentrating their forces somewhere?”

Kanzis’s insight was impeccable. He was exactly right.

“Ha-ha-ha! Well, I’m glad to be receiving such a royal welcome! In that case, allow me to bask in it, then!”

His boldness really was his greatest asset. He began sprinting ahead, making a beeline for the descending stairs, certain he could kick aside any trap in his way. His speed left the wind trailing him, a single stride bringing him several yards forward, and that let him reach the stairs in short order.

A few hours later, Kanzis found himself at the gates of a vast mansion, an opulent structure that seemed designed to intimidate all would-be visitors. Without a sound, the gates opened—and the battle began.

Kumara, in all her courtesan-esque beauty, greeted her visitor with a ghastly, hair-raising grin:

“Allow me to welcome you.”

Kanzis responded with a smile. “Well, thank you very much. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. You’re the little fox from way back when, aren’t you?”

“You remember me? I’m greatly honored.”

“How could I ever forget? Your mother played an instrumental part in my rise to fame.”

Sparks flew between the two of them—literally. The violent clash between mystic spirit and fighting spirit created physical tension heavy enough to trigger electric surges.

“You are shameless!”

“Ha-ha-ha! So you were fine all along, then? Although, I suppose that’s only because I sold you over to Clayman. You ought to thank me for that.”

“…I’ll kill you,” Kumara barked back with another surge of murderous rage.

As if in response, the White Monkey appeared, opening with a flurry of club strikes at Kanzis to demonstrate his majesty as leader of the eight creatures under Kumara’s control.

“So you’re a mystic survivor, then? Well, let me show you something interesting!”

As soon as he said it, Kanzis summoned a monster with no advance casting—another simian, this one covered in dark fur.

“You… You’re one of my mother’s servants…?!”

There was no doubt about it. It was one of Kumara’s mother’s tail beasts.

“You see? There’s a sight for sore eyes, huh? Here, take him on for a while.”

The Dark Ape was a kind beast as well. Kumara remembered playing with him as a child. But now that familiar old ape was baring his fangs menacingly.

“You’ve forgotten about me?!”

Kumara’s voice didn’t reach him. With a high-pitched screech, the Dark Ape overwhelmed the White Monkey.

“Don’t bother. That monkey’s become my loyal servant. He doesn’t remember a thing about you.”

Kanzis took a cigarette out of his pocket, uninterested in joining this fight himself. Lighting it and taking a drag, he gave Kumara a bemused smile.

“What did you do to the Dark Ape?”

“Hmm? Now, what’s that supposed to mean? Do you suspect me of something?”

He seemed to be mocking Kumara. Realizing Kanzis had no intention of taking her seriously, she let her anger drive her to the next step.

“Moon Rabbit! Black Mouse! Come on out!”

Two more of Kumara’s tails transformed. Now it was three against one, putting the situation back in her favor—but only for a moment.

“Dark Rabbit, Dark Mouse, you’re up.”

Kanzis summoned mystic creatures to match Kumara’s. Now she couldn’t even hide her astonishment.

“No…”

“Oh, surprised? But then again, so am I. I never thought a kid like you could ever summon three tail beasts at once. Clayman must’ve trained you very well.”

Kanzis’s tone of voice indicated he still thought of Kumara as a fool. He couldn’t have been more confident, and there was a reason for that—the magical beasts he summoned were stronger than the eight at Kumara’s disposal.

“Ah, but enough of this. Let’s end the playtime here, shall we?”

With that, Kanzis added more creatures.

“No! The Dark Tiger—and the Dark Snake, too!”

Each one of Kanzis’s dark summons was stronger than the equivalent from Kumara. It was no wonder. These were, after all, the loyal bodyguards of the previous Nine-Head, Kumara’s own mother. A single tail beast was incredibly powerful, and now there were five. Their formerly calm, gentle temperaments were gone; their maniacal instincts were fully unleashed.

At this point, Kanzis thought he had as good as won. No matter how much that fox kit Kumara had grown, he assumed that three tail beasts at once was about the best she could do. Even her own mother maxed out at controlling five at once, and she was a fox spirit who had lived for thousands of years. How could Kumara, with only centuries to her life span, ever produce that much force?

That’s why he felt safe in his arrogance.

“If you want, I’d be happy to keep you as my pet now. You’re cordially invited to switch sides, from the demon lord Rimuru to me. Do it, and I’ll spare your life.”

It was more of an order than a negotiation, one based on the absolute certainty of his own victory. But that was a fatal mistake. Kumara was furious, her smile growing ever deeper and ever more beautiful.

“How amusing. If you’ve made me this angry, you must have come prepared for the consequences, didn’t you?”

No answer was needed.

Kumara immediately unleashed all her tail beasts at once, producing the full array of eight. The Thunder Tiger, Winged Snake, Sleeping Ram, Fire Bird, and Mirror Dog came out, completing the entire ensemble.

“What?! Eight of them? You…”

It was the first time all day Kanzis demonstrated any alarm, but even then, it was only for a moment. Quickly regaining his composure, he flashed a fearless smile.

“Well, I commend you for your surprising growth… But we still have the strength advantage.”

“Silence!”

“Ooh, scary. In that case, I’ll say no more, then. In fact, the next thing I’ll do is strip you limb from limb. You’ll make lovely decorations for my room.”

The negotiations were over—and so the battle of eight against five began.

Although Kumara’s ensemble had the numerical advantage, their opponents were elites who had served her own predecessor for untold numbers of years. The sheer amount of magicule energy inside them was unparalleled, as was their experience. The White Monkey and its friends were far from weaklings, but their dark counterparts were more than powerful enough to counteract being outnumbered.

As time went on, Kumara’s beasts began to be pushed back. But she didn’t give up. And some careful observation of Kanzis revealed something. Each of the magic beasts Kanzis summoned was quite powerful solo—and while they had fully lost their memories, they still seemed to retain their sense of reason, reacting quickly to Kanzis’s instructions. In other words, if she could beat their commander in Kanzis, that might give Kumara a chance to win.

Besides, she still had one more trick up her sleeve. Once she brought all eight tail beasts back to herself, she could take her true form—and by her judgment, that’d give her the edge of Kanzis and his team. It was thus with little to no panic that Kumara carefully judged her situation.

What about Kanzis? Although it looked like he was on top of his game, he was actually pretty close to the edge of his limits. There was a good reason why he was commanding all these dark beasts. He had a secret power as well—the unique skill Looter.

This skill had no power on its own; it required something to build on. Kanzis first stumbled upon it as a child. He had gotten into a fight with a friend over some petty issue, and to get back at him, he killed his friend’s pet dog. After that, he was able to summon a dark incarnation of the dog anytime he wanted.

That alone was only slightly useful in a fight, but the true value of Looter actually lay elsewhere. He discovered it not long after he joined the army, fighting against guerrillas on the Empire’s far-flung frontiers. Whenever he killed one of them, he was able to summon “darkness” just as powerful as his victims. That’s when it dawned on him—he could only call upon those he killed by his own hand. The more he killed, then, the stronger he got.

But there were limits. This wasn’t a cumulative deal, where you were as strong as everyone you killed in your life; it only let you tap the dark powers of the greatest adversary you ever took down. It let him perfectly re-create the appearance and skills of his victim—a versatile trait, useful for disguising himself in undercover missions. But even then, there was only so much “darkness” Kanzis could handle summoning at once. If there wasn’t, he could likely control entire armies by himself, but sadly Looter was apparently too dependent on Kanzis’s own life force for that.

Kumara had accurately guessed that was the case, and even with her current disadvantage, she was not particularly concerned.

“Now I can tell—you’ve reached your limit, haven’t you?”

“And what if I have?”

“I don’t know how you’ve taken control of the Dark Ape and the rest, but that’s not an issue. I’m going to kill you anyway.”

That was her analysis of the situation.

Their respective band of servants were evenly matched in strength, but neither of the commanders were in the fray. If Kumara took on Kanzis then and there, he wouldn’t be able to give orders to his dark creatures—and in terms of magicule energy, Kumara far outclassed him.

“Don’t worry, now. I’m not going to make this easy for you.”

Upon saying that, Kumara disappeared, only to instantly reappear behind Kanzis’s back. Then she swiped at him, attempting to slash his neck with her claws.

Kanzis reacted in time, privately admitting she was right but still maintaining his detached attitude.

“You sure are scary, huh? If you were going to grow this much, I should’ve killed you twenty years ago.”

“Silence!”

“Heh-heh-heh… Now, now, don’t be so angry. To make up for it, why don’t I show you something real interesting?”

Kanzis laughed at her. It was true that his Looter skill could summon only those he had killed, and there were limits both to who it summoned and how much of its power Kanzis could personally tap. But there was still one more trick to it, and without a moment’s hesitation, he revealed it to Kumara.

“Have you ever wondered why I sold you to Clayman? Why I let go of you despite how much of a powerful asset I knew you’d be? Well…”

It was because he had already gained immense power—far more easily than he ever would trying to tame and raise Kumara.

Banishing his dark beasts, Kanzis summoned a single large beast in their place. This creature was the source of his strength, the reason he didn’t need Kumara at all.

“Th-that figure… Mother…?!”

Before her was a dark fox spirit bearing five thick tails and four thinner ones. She was the master of the Mystic Village, but she looked so ominous now, the kind of visage she had throughout her life gone without a trace.

“Haaaa-ha-ha-ha! You guessed it! It’s your mother. And now that she’s under my command, she’s able to handle and unleash all her violent forces with abandon. It’s amazing! Wouldn’t you like to see it?”

Kumara’s mother possessed a gentle nature that caused her to show mercy to her foes, an act of charity that came back to bite her. Even with the powers of a demon lord, she chose a modest life hidden away from the world, interacting with it only when absolutely necessary. That was Kumara’s predecessor, and now, by the hand of Kanzis, she was going to unleash her true powers.

“So you dare to make a mockery of the dead, too…?”

“Not mockery. Respect. I’m going to put her powers to good use. You should thank me for it.”

The dark Nine-Head summoned by Kanzis flared with rage as it saw Kumara. There was no emotion in its eyes—Kumara was merely the enemy, nothing else.

“Mother…”

“Kill her.”

Heeding the order, Nine-Head went on the move. The next moment, the full force of the combined dark beasts lashed out at Kumara’s own team.

“Winged Snake! Mirror Dog…?!”

The two that reacted a moment too late were seriously injured by the blow, returning to Kumara in tail form. That’s how powerful it was. Her group clearly didn’t stand a chance.

“Ha-ha-ha! What do you think? Pretty neat, huh? And that power’s exactly why I never needed you. But looking at the number of tails you have, you might even be better than your mother. You may lack experience still, but I can help you make up for it. Heh-heh-heh… Now I’m glad I kept you alive. If I can obtain you here, I’ll have even more power in my hands!”

Kanzis rejoiced. Defeat wasn’t even a concept in his mind. With an ally as strong as Nine-Head and his own augmented body, there was no way he could lose to a little fox—he was convinced of it. In fact, he even considered Clayman to be beneath him. Kanzis had planned to dispatch him once he fully tapped Nine-Head’s powers, but then the newcomer demon lord Rimuru went and killed him first. Maybe, Kanzis joked to himself, Clayman wasn’t any great shakes after all. But Kumara had just revealed she could wrangle eight tail beasts at once! And while their inexperience made it hard for them to beat anyone alone, with time and maturity, there was no telling what they could accomplish.

And that’s why I’m so lucky. I’m going to kill this girl here, and then I’ll douse her in my own power!

That, in turn, would power up Kanzis even further—and some upstart demon lord shouldn’t be any kind of match for that. With that thought driving his imagination, he began his attack.

Kumara, just standing there, shook her head and muttered to herself.

“If I lose my cool, I lose it all…is how it went. I must have forgotten Lady Hinata’s lesson.”

Then she looked at the man and beast slowly approaching her.

“Everyone, fall back.”

Answering the call, her tail beasts vanished into balls of light that were sucked back into her. Then her nine tails began to glow with a mesmerizing radiance. The man and his beast were already just in front of her—but Kumara was in no hurry. Her tail beasts might be inexperienced; that much she was willing to admit. But she herself was not. She had an excellent teacher, along with a hardworking group of diligent friends. It was a wonderful environment for Kumara, and it had done wonders to refine her.

Kumara gently stopped the sharpened claws and well-honed knife approaching her with both hands.

“…?!”

“Y-you…?!”

“I haven’t given you my name yet, have I? I am Kumara…”

“Y-you have a name…?!”

“…Nine-Head Kumara.”

The claws shattered; the knife snapped in two. Hurriedly, Kanzis reared back as Kumara gave him her bewitching smile.

“But no need to remember it. I was going to give you a slow and gruesome death, but that would too much for us to bear. So…”

Before she could finish her words, the dark beast crumbled to pieces. Kumara’s hands had torn the previous Nine-Head limb from limb.

“You’re kidding…?!”

The astonishing scene made Kanzis yelp. The greatest tool in his arsenal was vanishing before his eyes. Unlike a traditional summon, Kanzis’s Looter skill merely formed “darkness” using a corpse as a base. As a result, once he lost a beast like this, he could never recall it again. He had looted her, and now Kumara had just taken her back.

“Y-you…”

“If I was stronger, perhaps we could have tormented you more. But alas, it ends here.”

“W-wait…!!”

She had no more patience to listen to Kanzis’s nonsense. His pleas fell on deaf ears.

“Farewell.”

And with that final word, Kanzis’s life span came to a close. Kumara’s Nine-Tail Slash commenced, ripping through him from all directions, and he was cut to shreds and killed in a heartbeat.

This was Kumara, a woman with ravishing beauty and a ruthless, tough-as-nails will. While she may have longed for what she lost, she had no lingering regrets. Death, she understood, was death, something that could never be taken back. And that was exactly why she had to be sure nothing more was taken from her.

The Mystic Village was gone forever, but now Kumara had a home to return to. And in this moment, the most important thing was that she stepped up to keep from losing that as well.

“I wanted to give you all a chance at revenge… But you will have to forgive me.”

Still, the revenge was done. Her mother would never be revived, but now her dignity was. Kumara smiled. She was satisfied with this.

Someone was quietly meditating.

A streak of gold ran across his jet-black exoskeleton. A swordlike horn extending out of the center of his forehead shone a ruby red. The crimson compound eyes underneath it never shut; he continually took in information from his surroundings, processing it in his brain.

The exoskeleton was modified—more like tinkered with, really—by Rimuru, his master. That master’s own cells, along with a healthy dose of magisteel, had helped to reinforce the parts he’d lost; now they felt familiar to him, like they were always there. They had come to possess unparalleled performance, combining strength beyond diamonds with the flexibility of a living creature—one could call it adamantite or organic magisteel. It had become a suit of natural armor for him, easily Legend class.

But his strength didn’t issue from that exoskeleton. The real essence of his power came from his instincts, insatiable in their pursuit of battle. And now a new prey appeared before him.

Everything was going his way. He was the absolute monarch of this labyrinth—Zegion, the Insect Kaiser—and among the Dungeon’s most powerful guardians.

And now a thought crossed Zegion’s mind.

He believed that those who confirmed their desire to be here were qualified to fight him. That was why he sent the summons—his invitation into this dark space. Anyone who reached his floor was lucky indeed, for they could die with the dignity of a human being and the pride of the world’s strongest.

………

……

…

At the bottom of the stairs leading to Floor 80, there existed a room where people could rest. There was no door in the entryway; the room was wide open, in order to show there were no traps inside. And on the far end of it was a flashy, incredibly ornate door…which led to the boss chamber.

The dark vortex that Minitz walked into brought him to this very room. It was dimly lit, housing some comfortable chairs, a table with fruit and beverages, and a few other practical necessities.

Minitz wasn’t the first visitor. A few others had arrived before him. He gave them quick glances, trying to remember if he recognized them at all. Before he could do anything beyond that, a few people who were conversing in their chairs stood up.

“Major General Minitz! You’re still alive! I am from the twenty-sixth division of the Restructured Armor Corps—”

“Halt. This labyrinth is no place a buck private or noncommissioned officer could survive for very long. That much I know well enough already.”

Minitz raised a hand to stop the man from identifying himself. He knew the names and ranks of all the high-end officers by heart, but the three people before him were completely unfamiliar. That could only mean one thing.

Even over-A rankers would have their hands full surviving in here. No matter how many gathered together, they’d likely be helpless against the magic-born insect Minitz just encountered. Only a handful of human beings in history had broken through that wall, attaining literally superhuman abilities. Thus, although Minitz didn’t know this trio’s faces, he could guess who they were.

“Yes, sir! You’re certainly right. My name is Krishna, ranked seventeenth among the Imperial Guardians.”

“Bazan, ranked thirty-fifth.”

“And Reiha, ranked ninety-fourth.”

“Ah. So you’re with the Imperial Guardians, then? Infiltrated our army to monitor the operation, I assume?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m not sure how wise it is to give me such an honest answer, but very well. Right now, we need to talk about what’s past that door.”

“We were just discussing our possibilities now, sir.”

“Good, good.”

Minitz pressed them more, as if it was only natural his prediction was correct. He wasn’t exactly a fan of this unwelcome surveillance in his force, but survival was job one right now. Rank or position didn’t matter here; strength did. Instead of questioning why Krishna and his band were here, Minitz decided to concentrate on more fruitful topics of discussion.

“So what happened to everybody else?”

“Well, sir, we were all sent to the floor where the wight king was reported to be.”

Krishna answered for the trio. Minitz raised an eyebrow, asking him to go on.

“There were ninety-six of us in all—our commanders were taken away from us—and we were forced to do battle against the king of the undead. I’m…afraid we’re the only survivors.”

“Unbelievable,” Minitz spat. “Our groups were all one-man armies, capable of making sound decisions in battle without direct orders. Even if they weren’t quite as talented as you, they were the best the Empire had to offer!”

This hundred-odd group had been tasked with rescuing the rest of the imperial forces. Even the rank and fileers among them were over-A menaces, so they could be prepared for anything that happened down there. The ferocity of Minitz’s tone showed just how hard their deaths were to swallow.

“He was a fearsome monster king, sir. And the undead knight guarding him was an elite-class swordfighter,” said Krishna.

“Apart from us three, they killed everyone on that floor. If you want to criticize us for not revealing our identities earlier, I don’t have any defense for that. But we’re talking about an undead dragon, an undead sword master, and the king of the dead himself. It’s a miracle even we survived, sir.”

Bazan interrupted Krishna and Minitz’s conversation. His speech was tinged with anger; this whole experience seemed to be a regretful disappointment to him, and it was clear he meant every word he said.

“You’re being rude to the major general, Bazan.”

“But, Reiha…”

“No, no, I don’t mind. This is a dangerous labyrinth. We need to work together to survive, regardless of rank.”

So Minitz offered them his full cooperation. If this trio was all Imperial Guardians, he couldn’t have asked for better assistance. Now was no time for bickering.

“I’d be overjoyed to take the offer, sir.”

Krishna knew Major General Minitz of the Armored Division well. That wasn’t a surprise, given his position in the Imperial Guardians, and there was no reason for him to turn down the offer. All four of them silently nodded. Whatever happened after they left this labyrinth, they could think about when that time came. That was the common understanding they now had.

“So how did you get here, sir?” Krishna asked Minitz.

“I had to face off against a swarm of army wasps.”

“Army wasps…!”

The quintessential lethal monster. So dangerous that they weren’t even well-known among the general public, since the army took action so quickly to quash any that were discovered. Any hapless citizen who did come to see one usually lost their life as a result, so the army wasps remained largely off peoples’ radars.

“You took on such a dangerous foe by yourself, sir?”

“I haven’t seen any other colleagues since I came in here. In my case, after I defeated the army wasps and the queen magic-born who led them, I heard this voice calling me over…and the next thing I knew, I was here.”

“Ah, I see…”

Krishna was deeply impressed by Minitz’s casual explanation. If a queen wasp had been transformed into a magic-born, its power was beyond all imagination—equivalent to a low-end demon lord, in all likelihood. Taking out such an opponent, along with her entire army of monster insects… It was a clear show of strength, and it did a great deal to relieve the trio’s anxieties. Krishna was too nervous to notice until now, but Minitz was wounded all up and down his body, the large hole in his chest providing ample evidence of how fierce the battle was.

“Are you all right?” Reiha asked.

“You’re asking that now?” Minitz laughed. “I had potions with me. I’ll get my stamina back once I rest a bit longer. But what route did you guys take to get here?”

Minitz still had the initiative here. They were all treating each other as equals for the moment, but the sheer force of personality from him still made Krishna’s team follow his lead.

Under his guidance, they all shared whatever information they knew with each other. Putting it together, they found that the labyrinth likely had an amorphous, transformable structure. This reality was so different from their prior intelligence that they had virtually no baseline to work with. They were essentially groping their way through the labyrinth’s passages, and their future wasn’t looking too bright.

“What the hell’s going on in here anyway? Because we faced off against the boss of Floor 60 from the briefing, didn’t we? Why didn’t the demon lord Rimuru have us enter this labyrinth from the first floor?” Bazan demanded.

It would have taken much more time to navigate this maze then. If he just wanted them to exhaust themselves, Bazan reasoned, that would’ve been the best way.

“Simple,” Minitz replied. “You heard the rumors about this place, I’m sure. If you have the bracelet on in here, you can come back to life if you die. But what if that applied to the monsters as well?”

“Ah…”

Bazan just groaned in reply, Krishna and Reiha bitterly mulling over Minitz’s words.

“Instead of making us eat up time working our way down, they’d be able to eliminate more of our forces by letting great masses of us in at once…?”

“And once you’re in, you can’t get out. It’s virtually lining us up to be cut down, isn’t it?”

Minitz nodded. “That was the sort of confidence he had in this labyrinth’s strengths in wartime, of course. I had suggested to Lord Caligulio that we should address this, but he replied that we could just occupy whatever space the dead monsters were sent to for revival and kill them again. It seemed reasonable enough at the time, so I had to back down.”

It was a bitter pill to swallow, but looking back, that was a crucial error of judgment—one that made the Empire deploy more than half a million soldiers. Sending troops right in, one squadron after another, was the most foolish approach they could have taken. And it never would have happened if they hadn’t misjudged the demon lord Rimuru and the abilities of those who served him.

“So were you able to find any other survivors?” Minitz asked the trio.

“Well…”

That alone told the whole story. As of right now, they could only assume that they were the sole ones left alive.

“It’s not that I can’t believe it—I don’t want to believe it,” said Bazan. “If we ever make it back to the surface alive, we’ll have to retreat ASAP.”

“It’ll enrage His Majesty, no doubt, but we’re left with no other choice,” agreed Krishna.

Nobody disagreed with that conclusion. With that decided, they had to start addressing the current situation.

“By the way, what’s going on with this room?”

“We didn’t detect any poison or whatnot in the food and drink here,” Reiha told Minitz. “I’m not about to accept charity from the enemy, but it seems clear they meant to extend us a helping hand.”

“And that door… Push or pull, it won’t budge a bit, but do you see the numbers on top of it? Before you showed up, we were just talking about how it looked like a countdown to us.”

Beyond the door on the other side of the room, there seemed to be a thick, unspeakably evil presence wafting through the cracks. And just as Bazan noted, there was indeed a number above it. It was clearly marking time, and currently it read 200. That likely meant the door would open in just under three and a half hours—shockingly, the exact amount of time Minitz thought he needed to regain his full strength. Minitz let out a weary sigh. That couldn’t have been by chance.

“It looks like the enemy wants us to fight when we’re in tip-top shape,” he said. “I don’t know if they’ll give us a fair fight, exactly, but they want us to heal, at least.”

“Are they going to make us take the challenge one by one, or a couple of us at once, or what?” Reiha wondered aloud.

“Either way, they sure must be confident of their own strength,” said Krishna.

“Pretty cocky move to make against a major general and the killers of a wight king,” added Bazan.

“Well, let’s take the offer. Kanzis will be here before long, I imagine, and the more time we can buy, the better.”

“Fair enough,” said Krishna. “And the more forces we have, the better, too. If Lord Kanzis is joining us, maybe we’ll find a way out of this labyrinth after all.”

“Right. And we have seven keys in our possession so far. I’m sure you have one of these, too, don’t you, sir?” Reiha mentioned as she took out a medallion with ten crystals embedded in it. Seven of them were currently glowing. The medallion must have been the key that allowed access to the king of the labyrinth.

“Of course. We need to beat the Ten Marvels to access their king. By the time we came in, four of their keys were already ours.”

“Yes. And it seems not just the wight king, but his bodyguard as well—they both counted as Marvels,” said Krishna.

“They did? Then if Kanzis wins his battle, we’ll have eight by the time we challenge this floor and at least nine afterward. Kind of a pale shadow of a hope at the moment, but at least it’s a way forward.”

If they could get a ticket back to the surface right now, all of them swore they’d never venture back in. That’s how horrible this labyrinth was. But that wish wasn’t about to come true. Unless they beat whatever was ahead, they were never getting out of this place alive. They had prepared for this the moment they went in, which now felt like a whole lifetime ago.

The only thing left for them to do was push on.

So Minitz and his newfound comrades rested as they awaited Kanzis’s arrival. If they wanted to improve their chances, they needed to ease their fatigue as much as possible. Nobody touched the refreshments on the table, whether it was safe or not. They all snacked on their energy bars instead, replenishing their stamina for what might be the last time. This was now a matter of survival.

When three minutes remained on the countdown, Minitz stood up. He checked his medallion, only to find there were no newly glowing crystals on it. His shoulders drooped.

“…I fear Kanzis might have lost.”

They couldn’t wait any longer. Reinforcements were not coming. Minitz abandoned the naive expectation that any would. Calmly assessing the situation, he gave precise instructions to his teammates.

“Right. It’s time. Let’s finish up prep.”

The Imperial Guardians silently nodded back. Taking out their pendants, they each chanted a short password.

“““Release!”””

Without missing a beat, torrents of light surged out of each pendant, and the trio was armed and ready. They numbered three Imperial Guardians, alongside Major General Minitz of the Armored Division. There might have been only four of them, but right then, they were the absolute best the Empire had.

With this lineup, reaching the end of the labyrinth wasn’t a dream. That was what everyone there had to believe.

So the fateful moment arrived. The countdown progressed all the way down to zero, and when it did, the door before them opened.

Everyone was ready for this. Without further hesitation, they went through the doorway, throwing themselves into the all-or-nothing battle for survival.

………

……

…

Beyond the door was profound darkness, a place of pure black where no light shone. Reiha hurriedly activated Floor-wide Light, an elemental magic useful for illuminating one’s surroundings. What it revealed made the entire group gasp.

They were in a vast wasteland piled high with the corpses of imperial soldiers. At the very top of the tallest pile, a single monster was sitting cross-legged in meditation. It was Zegion. He wasn’t seated directly on the dead but instead was floating ever so slightly in the air, proving that he was highly trained in the magic arts.

“Welcome, brave fellows.”

The voice was low but clear. Every word he uttered seemed to swell into an overpowering presence. Now Minitz was convinced. This monster was the one who coaxed him here. It had to be the demon lord Rimuru himself.

He couldn’t help but ask.

“Are you…the demon lord Rimuru?”

The briefing he read through said Rimuru was a slime by species. But so what? If he was a slime, he could change into any form he wanted. And more than that, this monster was emitting an absolutely overwhelming amount of energy—Lord’s Ambition, they called it. This, he thought, was all the proof he needed that this was a demon lord before him.

But the question was met with a scathing rejection.

“You dare mistake…the likes of myself…for Sir Rimuru, the greatest of demon lords…?”

“What?”

Furious rage filled the space. The seething reply made Minitz realize he just committed a terrible mistake.

“My name is Zegion. I am merely one of the Ten Dungeon Marvels, nothing more. And all of you ignorant, wriggling fools deserve nothing but death.”

His words were plain, but his burning rage was palpable.

“There is only one way for you to survive—by beating me. Throw your very lives into this fight and resist me with every fiber of your being!”

That was a pretty arrogant thing to say in front of the Empire’s greatest champions. But there was not a hint of condescension in his voice. As Minitz and his team realized, Zegion was simply stating the truth as he knew it—and the only way to prove him wrong was to show him their might, just as he said.

“Time to go all out,” Minitz told the three Imperial Guardians.

“Yes, sir.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You got it.”

And so the mayhem began.

Damn. Really?

That was my true, unvarnished impression.

Benimaru and I were staring at the big screen in utter amazement. The scenes shown on it a moment ago, from inside the labyrinth, were now black…and that indicated that the last of the imperial troops inside were dead. The battle was over…but the enormity of what we just witnessed had left us all momentarily speechless.

“Dude… He’s stronger than you, yeah?”

That was the only thing I could begin with.

Benimaru scowled, perhaps a bit unwilling to admit it. “There is a…small chance…that is possible.”

Wow. He looked super crestfallen. He followed that up with a barely whispered “But I strictly mean that there’s a nonzero chance, you see,” but—c’mon, man, just admit it. Be a little honest.

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… I attempted to fight Zegion myself. He has a fearsome sense for battle, a built-in advantage over demon opponents, and resistance to nearly all base-level magic. He truly is Sir Veldora’s disciple prodigy. I might have even lost myself if I wasn’t paying attention. You are not truly defeated until you admit defeat, after all.”

Diablo was smiling, taking the “I didn’t lose, we were just practicing!” approach with Zegion. But this really wasn’t a laughing matter for me. That was the case for Razul, too, wasn’t it? High-end insect types seemed to be kind of the natural enemies of demons, and I’d say Zegion was among the most powerful who ever existed. (I should note that Testarossa and her fellow demonesses also challenged Zegion in the past, and they hadn’t won against him yet, either. Diablo just loved seeing Testarossa frustrate herself against the dude, I’m sure.)

But hey, if those three could fight evenly against Zegion, that still made them pretty damn extraordinary. After seeing the fight I just did, that was the only conclusion I could make. But let’s take a quick look back.

………

……

…

The battle in the labyrinth ended largely as expected. Earning those two otherworlder defectors was a nice bonus, and Kumara had notched a truly laudable victory over in her domain. Pity about what happened to Adalmann’s crew and Apito, but—well, given who they got paired with, that was the luck of the draw sometimes.

By the way, it turned out someone was calling all these strong dudes to gather in his chamber, even giving them time to fully heal themselves before the battle. Yep, that was Zegion. Anyone in the labyrinth he saw as worthy enough, he used Control Space to all but drag them over to him. Pretty amazing senses on that guy. He must’ve been observing every battle in the labyrinth as he was meditating down there, and he didn’t make a move until each one was over, gathering only the strongest survivors over to him.

It was just the craziest thing to do. If he lost after this, he’d look like the biggest dumbass in the world, and I was sure it’d get brought up at the next Dungeon Marvels meeting. Nobody complained about it, though. Losers don’t get the right to complain, maybe… But more than that, everyone recognized that Zegion had the strength to back up this act. We also had word that Veldora even gave it his personal stamp of approval— “Let him do as he pleases,” he had said.

From Benimaru’s and my point of view, the focus really should have been on setting the stage for a sure win. If he let the enemy heal itself, then lost because of some miscue…

…Well, that was my worry, but now there were only four foes left in the whole labyrinth. Now I wondered if I was ruining my demon lord rep by micromanaging and complaining about insignificant matters.

By this point, I had long decided to indulge Zegion’s selfishness. Besides, he was helping us gather a ton of useful battle data. I also wanted to see how he acted once he got real serious in battle, so I just let him do as he pleased.

The result was an absolute steamrollering. In a word, it was overwhelming.

Bazan, the brawler who fended off that death dragon single-handedly, was the first to act. From his initial blow, he struck Zegion with his full power, a sword strike that seemed to shatter the earth itself. But Zegion batted the blow away with his left hand, deliberately trying to avoid impeding his opponent’s motion. The gentle push on his sword threw Bazan off-balance, keeping him from launching into a combination strike.

Zegion wasn’t about to miss that opportunity. At once, he advanced straight up to the guy, planted his right leg down, and drove his right fist into his opponent’s armor. I didn’t even want to know how much power was in that fist, really… And the results indicated that it was as hard as a Legend-class weapon. The shining armor was shattered, and with that, Bazan’s life was forfeit.

This all happened less than three seconds after battle began.

Losing a teammate that suddenly must’ve been too difficult to parse at once. Reiha, the wizard, just stood there blankly, and it was pretty clear what would happen if she acted like that around Zegion. If anything, she had it good, getting to die without any pain or fear. A single chop of her adversary’s bare hand was all it took to cleave her in two.

Seeing her collapse to the ground, Krishna—the winner over Alberto—screamed in horror.

“Ah, aaaahhhhhhhhhh!! You killed Reiha! Die, you monster! Dimension Cutter!!”

His anger pouring into his fighting will, Krishna unleashed the skill at near-divine speed. Dimension Cutter was a slashing move, one that could slice through any defense—even across dimensions. Without a spatial-control skill like my Dominate Space, it’d be impossible to counter. It was all but unstoppable, a true “sure kill” if there ever was one in battle.

But it didn’t work on Zegion.

“Ha. Pitiful.”

The air began to twist around him.

Hang on. Wasn’t this Distortion Field? Like, part of the Absolute Defense tools offered by Uriel, Lord of Vows?! Whenever I used Absolute Defense, I always seemed to blow it for some reason, but Zegion apparently mastered it.

“Sir Rimuru granted me this technique,” he told the shocked Krishna, “and it renders all attacks futile!”

Um, I don’t remember teaching him that…?

…

That was you, Raphael?

And Zegion’s Dominate Space ability had gone way beyond unique-skill territory. It’s just as good as mine by now. No wonder he could fight toe to toe (maybe even better) with Veldora if it was strictly a martial arts contest. I could certainly see how he could block Krishna’s strike with it.

So it felt like Krishna’s team was pretty much doomed by now, but:

“Krishna, listen!”

The fancily dressed dude with them—Minitz, I think his name was—called for Krishna.

“This is a foe beyond anything we’ve seen before. I’ll slow him down, so do everything you can to finish him off!”

Apparently he hadn’t given up on winning yet. I’ll have to admit, as an enemy, he was a decent one.

Now Minitz was raining his power down upon Zegion. We already knew about the unique skill Minitz had—Apito’s defeat wasn’t in vain at all. He had Oppressor, which let him mess around with localized gravitational force, and he wanted to use it to focus gravity on Zegion and restrain him.

But alas, it didn’t work on Zegion. All he had to do was warp the space around him to manipulate the flow of gravity the way he wanted it. It kind of surprised me—I never thought about using it that way.

Like, since when was Zegion so freakishly strong? That question in my mind was growing bigger and bigger. Also, why the heck was Raphael even able to teach stuff to Zegion?

Understood. You may have perhaps forgotten, Master, but you have given him part of your own body. Subsequently, you are now connected by a soul corridor.

Oh, right. He was about to die, and when I saved him, I did give him part of my body, didn’t I? But wouldn’t that apply to Apito, too?

Understood. The difference lies in latent talent. The subject Zegion’s physical specifications are beyond any measure, and thus I was able to give him a full super optimization to my satisfaction. As a result, he has acquired abilities similar to you, Master.

The job it did on Apito was amazing enough, but that still didn’t satisfy Raphael, I guess. It was happy enough with the job it did on Zegion, and honestly, it was a little hard to fully grasp what that meant.

And what the hell’s a full super optimization? Did he turn him into a superhero or something? This was all so new to me. So Zegion was basically a little masterpiece put together by Raphael in its spare time? Looking at it that way, no wonder he had turned into such a freak of nature.

That’s Raphael for you—always taking everything to extremes. It’s done it again, this time behind my back. Now, in Zegion, we had a battle-focused magic-born with the ideal fighting form, further honed via Veldora’s intense training. There was no way any ordinary person could ever take him on.

And as expected:

“Dimension Ray!”

Zegion opened up his right hand and carelessly swung his arm down. That’s all it took to cut through the local dimension—or space itself, I suppose. This was another phenomenon you had no chance of resisting without the ability to manipulate the space around you.

The two imperial fighters immediately reacted, but that alone wouldn’t help them. Krishna tried to cancel it out with another Dimension Cutter, but it failed, and he was cut in half. The difference in sheer muscle was bleedingly (pardon the pun) obvious.

As for Minitz, he set up a jamming force field around himself to try to block the dimensional slash… But that, too, was just pointless struggling. Against twisting, slicing dimensional space, virtually no physical ability or phenomenon could do much of anything. The look of surprise on his face was really hard to describe, but if I had to, I’d say it was the face of someone who just tasted defeat for the first time in his whole life. So he set off for the afterlife, likely not even given the time to admit defeat.

………

……

…

So less than a minute after battle began, all the challengers were dead. And well, that concluded my lecture on how incredibly goddamn strong Zegion was. The leaps and bounds Kumara made surprised me enough, but that was nothing compared to our insect friend here. For all I know, he might even outclass me by now.

Like…oh, man. I think he’s starting to overstep the bounds of life itself or something. He’s become a truly transcendent being, hasn’t he? Stronger than even Hinata when she’s fighting for real. By my calculations, even Apito could rank up there with Carillon or Frey strengthwise, but I don’t think Apito could last three minutes with Zegion. The moment he got serious, the fight would end instantly. It’s hardly even a fight with him, even. It’s just a one-sided massacre.

Why did I even put someone so powerful in the labyrinth? Because aren’t his talents kinda going to waste down there? …But then again, this is a secret weapon, isn’t it? Something I could never afford to unleash to the open world.

Still, though… I knew there were lots of powerful people hiding out around the world, and I didn’t think I let my guard down at all…but I had no idea there was so much off-the-charts strength right under my nose the whole time. Like, I always thought they looked pretty strong, but this was far beyond my imagination. Truly, there’s no fathoming the mysteries of the world.

But enough about that. We’ve got other things to reflect on right now, don’t we?

Thanks to this, I learned the hard way that leaving things up to Raphael can result in some pretty zany nonsense. Now wasn’t the time to whine and moan about a little hard work. We were gonna need to have a long talk later to see if it had done anything else I ought to know about.

Still, even with those thoughts in mind, I was relieved that the battle in the labyrinth ended without major incident.

And so out of the more than seven hundred thousand troops who participated in the ground invasion, we had finished taking care of five hundred thirty thousand.

This was practically genocide, I know, but for me, all it meant was that I had gained over half a million souls. That meant seven hundred seventy thousand in total, and that meant I could now evolve seven of my top officials. Once the remaining ground battles were wrapped up, I’d need to consider who to give the nod to.

And as for that ground battle, we weren’t letting our guard down yet.

“Now the imperial force numbers less than two hundred thousand troops. That’s a pretty big army, but it seems tiny compared to before, huh?”

“Indeed. Two days have passed since their final deployment into the labyrinth, but no moves since then. We don’t see any signs that they’re ready to send any more down. Of course, if the enemy commander keeps prodding the labyrinth after all this, he’d have to be beyond incompetent.”

Benimaru was right, I suppose. With all the strength they lost, I doubted they’d be kicking any more soldiers through the labyrinth gate. Now it was our turn to confront them instead.

Without any over-A rankers on their side, the enemy force was nowhere near the juggernaut it used to be. It was a big army, yes, but we could probably take them on easily. I thought we could anyway, but—ah, there was always something to worry about.

“So now what? The other side’s still got us beat in numbers and quality, right? If we hit them with the Second Army Corps, that’s going to cost us casualties no matter what, won’t it?”

We could just hole up in here and wait for them to run out of food. That could earn us victory unscathed. With the food stores we have in the labyrinth, we could duke it out for another year. Cultivation was possible to some extent down there as well, and if push came to shove, we could always ask Ramiris to give us more farmland. That would be the firm, cautious approach, I think.

“Well, we’ve already cut off the enemy’s supply lines,” said Benimaru. “Strategically speaking, we’ve got the upper hand. Now that we’ve come this far, it’s really more cleanup duty than anything—”

“Hmph! As you said earlier, you’re not going to let the invaders leave alive, then?” Shion cut in. “That’s just what I hoped to hear from you, Benimaru! What valor!”

Shion’s interruption made Benimaru snicker. Apparently, she was right.

“No, it is best not to let the Empire harbor any more useless ambitions. It’s all the more reason why we need to kill all the intruders.”

Benimaru was starting to sound like Raphael now. Annihilating the majority of the imperial army wasn’t enough to satisfy him; he was committed to killing every single one of them without prejudice, just as originally planned. He’s so merciless, isn’t he? And at this point, I saw no reason to oppose him.

But… I mean, I was ready for that. I was sure the Empire’s subjects would hate me for all this, even if just out of spite. I just hoped it didn’t give us a bad rap with the Western Nations…

Report. I have a suggestion I would like to test.

Oh?

Sounded like Raphael had a plan of its own. The fact that it didn’t just tell me about it first thing let me know that maybe my friend wasn’t too confident it would work.

Is this something we could do right now, then?

Negative. It will require time and preparation, so it is better to attempt after the war is over.

Okay.

Certainly, I didn’t want to start any more wacky experiments during wartime. I didn’t know what Raphael wanted to do, but either way, I was the one who’d have to execute it. We could talk about it later.

I turned my attention back to Benimaru. I had accepted his proposal to kill them all, but my only other important request was that there be no casualties on our side.

“But is that even possible without anyone dying?”

“If we in your officer corps come out to battle, Sir Rimuru, I’m sure of it.”

Confident as ever. And Diablo, Shion, and even the typically calm Geld were nodding eagerly at Benimaru’s assessment.

“Okay, so what exactly will you guys do?”

Benimaru began explaining.

“First, Sir Rimuru, we cannot leave you unguarded.”

Everyone nodded their agreement.

“Do you have to be that careful? I mean, we killed everyone in the labyrinth except for Lucius and Raymond.”

We were still treating them as prisoners of war for now. They didn’t seem likely to betray us, so we didn’t throw them in jail or anything. They were on standby on Floor 60 just in case, kept under Gadora’s supervision; he had been showing them the battles on each floor of the labyrinth to help stave off their boredom. That included recordings of the two of them as well, but what amazed them the most was how each of the labyrinth guardians fought.

“You see now? You were smart to join my side, weren’t you?”

“You were, right? You oughtta be grateful.”

“…At least thank him for giving you three meals a day.”

“Hey, c’mon, guys. We went down the same road they did, remember. We should know how they both feel.”

Gadora and Shinji’s gang were all helping prop up their spirits, even. I didn’t think we needed to worry about anything with them.

Now I wondered if any imperial forces snuck into our capital city before the war began.

“Soei, were there any intruders in town?”

“We’ve already taken care of them.”

Yeah, I’m sure there were—but if that was the answer Soei had, the problem was already in the distant past.

Report. We have successfully eliminated every single person who entered the labyrinth. Only one individual, the subject Krishna, was confirmed to have used a Resurrection Bracelet, but since he is currently outside the labyrinth, he will no longer pose a problem.

Oh, so Krishna survived? He was a pretty strong dude, sure, but if Raphael had already kept tabs on him, I had nothing to worry about.

“Yeah, well, I guess the labyrinth’s safe now, so I suppose I can relax a little bit, huh? Besides, those Imperial Guardians like Kanzis and Minitz—people in their class would be stronger than me before I became demon lord, right? From what Chloe told me, I hadn’t evolved into one in her time line, so it wouldn’t be a shock at all if they killed me, would it?”

In that scenario, Diablo wouldn’t be there for me, either—I hadn’t summoned him by then—and Veldora wasn’t fully revived, so even folks like Zegion would be their pre-evolved selves. In terms of war power, we’d be way weaker than we were now—it wasn’t even a comparison. If the Empire attacked us in that situation, it wouldn’t be strange at all if we were too helpless to resist and I kicked it.

…That is not possible.

No, I really think it is, y’know?

Like, I get how much of a sore loser you are, Raphael, but that’s a really petulant thing to say. Besides, you were still just the Great Sage back then.

…

Heh. You lost that debate, huh? My first win in a while.

Not that there’s a winner and a loser in this kind of argument, but still.

“Yes… Perhaps you’re right, Sir Rimuru.”

Benimaru agreed, although he didn’t seem to like it much. But Shion refused to accept it.

“No! There was no possible way you could be defeated!”

There was, actually. History proves me right. Well, that history anyway. We’re on a different one now, but with someone like Shion, trying to debate theoretical time lines is an exercise in futility.

Giving up on that fool’s errand, I got us back on topic.

“…Well, there’s no point debating it now. The key takeaway here is that the Empire had a lot of strong dudes in it. They might still have a bunch left, too, so we’re all gonna have to remain careful. And I appreciate your wish to keep me guarded, but I don’t want you guys getting hurt because of it.”

The labyrinth seemed more than safe enough by this point. And when it came to the ground war, I thought the sooner we put that behind us, the better. That was why I said that, but my phrasing had a lot more power than I thought.

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… If that’s what you say, Sir Rimuru, then I will gladly go out to fight as well. Allow me to end this battle in a single instant!”

“No trying for a head start, Diablo! I’m not going to give up this opportunity to have Sir Rimuru see my treasured troops in action for the first time!”

“Please, my lord, wait! Testa and Ult have been given chances to shine, but I haven’t been given anything yet. That’s so mean! Please, deploy me as well while you’re at it!”

Diablo, Shion, and Carrera (who had just flown in through the doorway) were all making a huge fuss about going out there to fight.

“You three…”

Even Benimaru was taken aback. Geld was laughing about it, too.

“All right, all right. I’ll stay here, so you guys can handle the final battle for us.”

In the end, Benimaru agreed to let Diablo and the others go to war.

With that question settled, now we needed a workable strategy.

“Let’s take a look at our numbers. Our main force is my Red Numbers, totaling thirty thousand, along with seventeen thousand elites from Geld’s Yellow Numbers and Orange Numbers. In terms of quality, they’re probably all on par with the remaining imperial troops, and I’m connected via Thought Communication with their commanders and captains. They’ll be able to take flexible tactical action out there, so if we restrict their zone of activity, that should let us fight evenly with them or better. How many people are among your ‘treasured troops,’ then?”

So forty-seven thousand in all? And they averaged a B-plus in rank, which was more than sufficient. But they’d be going up against an Empire force almost four times as large. No matter how much of an operational advantage we had, defeat seemed pretty likely to me…

“Ten thousand. And by the way, only those who kept up with my training remain on the team, so you can treat all of them as ranking at least a B-plus.”

This was Shion’s elite guard—or her fan club, as we usually called it. It was something of an enigma, an entity set apart from Team Reborn that was captained by Daggrull’s sons. Apparently, it was bigger than I thought.

“There’s really that many of them?”

Like, man, it sure grew while I wasn’t paying attention. I knew that Gobzo was a member, but I could only imagine what kind of other clowns were in there.

“There are, Sir Rimuru! I’ve been secretly training them to serve as a worthy elite guard for you!”

Hmm… They’re your fan club, aren’t they? Not mine. But whatever. The more reliable allies we had, the merrier.

“But even this leaves us at a dire numerical disadvantage, so I’ll be expecting a lot out of all my close officers here. First, we should confuse them with a large-scale skill, then strike them when they’re open. They won’t just sit back and watch, of course. Assuming they advance upon us, the first question is who should tackle them first…”

Usually, Benimaru would have been taking that role, as far as I knew. A wide-ranging attack like Hellflare would be perfect for the job, but unfortunately, Benimaru had to stay here and guard me. So who else, then?

“Isn’t this where I come in, my lord?” Carrera asked.

Hmm. Yeah. She did seem qualified. I glanced at Benimaru. Our eyes met, he gave me a small nod, and with that, I decided to give Carrera her wish.

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh! I think I can—”

“Right, Carrera, it’s up to you. Use some of that flashy magic of yours to teach the imperial force a lesson they’ll never forget!”

“Absolutely, my lord! You can count on me!”

Oh, was Diablo about to say something?

“Sorry, Diablo, what were you saying?”

“N-no… Keh…heh-heh… Keh-heh… It was nothing of importance. But good for you, Carrera.”

“Oooh, I’m sooo happy!”

I could almost see the sparks flying between Diablo and Carrera. Was he about to nominate himself or something? If so, then my apologies—but did Diablo have that kind of large-scale magic at his fingertips? Surely he had to. I guess being around me all the time like this was driving him to show off as much as possible. Now I felt just a little bad for him.

Hopping out of my chair, I transformed from slime to human form and stood before Diablo. Placing a hand on his shoulder, I tried to sound as persuasive as I could.

“Sorry about that, Diablo. You know, I was actually hoping you might volunteer to kill off the enemy commander for me!”

“Huh?!”

Diablo’s lips curled into a grin. He looked happy—really happy. Great, then.

“Like, there still might be unknown menaces in their army, right? It looks like the Krishna guy from before managed to resurrect himself, for example, but it oughtta be easy for you to trace him.”

Given his stalker-ish behavior from time to time, I bet Diablo was good at that kind of thing. “Of course, Sir Rimuru!” he replied happily. Aha. I knew it all along.

“Yes, it is still possible that powerful fighters lurk within the Empire. If we want them to come out of the woodwork, we’ll need to show off our full powers right here, on this battlefield. Carrera, Diablo, I’m counting on you!”

“I swear I’ll do my best, my lord!”

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… A direct edict from you, Sir Rimuru, makes my heart soar with excitement!”

Well, super. Carrera was glad to be playing a part, and now Diablo was all motivated again. That oughtta make it easier for Geld and the rest to do their jobs.

“Now, make sure you keep the other troops intimidated enough so nobody interferes with Carrera’s magic. If someone does try to mess with her, Shion, have your troops deal with them.”

Benimaru, taking over for me, began rattling off his orders. I was sure I could safely leave the rest to him now.

“As for the formation, I’d like Geld up front and Shion using hit-and-run tactics, as we discussed. We’ll count on the Red Numbers to provide pursuit duty, but as for who’ll be in charge…”

They needed someone who could connect via Thought Communication to Benimaru and immediately execute his will as needed. Thought Communication could also be used to relay orders to every ally on the field, but any mistaken action out there could end our life. A commander who could make little corrections as needed was absolutely vital. I think Gobwa could handle that job nimbly enough, but maybe him giving orders to Shion and Geld was asking a bit much?”

“I think that Gob—”

“One moment!”

The door to the Control Center burst open, interrupting Benimaru. There we saw Momiji, representative of the chief of the tengu. She was also Hakuro’s daughter, so she was pretty close with everyone in the room. But giving her such easy access to the Control Center, after we tightened up security so much…

“Um, Lady Shuna was gracious enough to let me in.”

Aha.

Shuna had been handling lots of small details for us this whole time, bringing us meals and preparing tea, and I guess Momiji had been helping her out. Fair enough, then. Let’s hear her out.

“As Benimaru’s wife, I think it is time for me step up and take his position on the field!!”

“What are you…?!”

We couldn’t just have anyone take Benimaru’s place here…but Momiji would be fine, wouldn’t she? She had the power, for sure, and her temperament was such that she wouldn’t let Shion or Geld give her cold feet.

“Well, why not?”

I opted to accept the offer.

“Indeed, I would gladly welcome Lady Momiji as a worthy ally!”

Shion didn’t seem to mind, either. She knew that Momiji was Hakuro’s daughter, so she must have been treating her with a soft touch.

“I’m for it as well. The Red Numbers are a meritocracy of worthy magic-born. Instead of Team Kurenai going it alone, I would much rather ask for help from our tengu friend.”

Geld was on board, too, and nobody else seemed to be voicing any disagreement.

“Well, unless there are any concerns, you mind if I let your fiancée take this job, Benimaru?”

“N-no, but…”

Oh, is he against it? Yeah, maybe he doesn’t want his future wife out fighting in wars.

“Ah, worried for your wife?”

“Well, yes… Wait, no!”

Darn. I almost got him to admit it. But he wasn’t off the hook yet.

“Benimaru!”

With a loud bang, the door flew open to reveal Shuna, standing up straight and admonishing her brother.

“Lady Momiji has been preparing your meals for the past few days, I’ll have you know! All she wanted was for you to have a good meal, so she asked me to teach her how to cook. That’s such a gallant thing to do, and I don’t want that to go to waste!”

“She… She has?”

“Yes.”

Momiji nodded. I had actually noticed this. Compared to Shuna, the meal quality wasn’t quite up to the usual standard. That’s why I felt it was perfectly fine to give Momiji her wish.

“But kitchen work and battle command are two very different—”

“Benimaru!”

“Ugh…”

Benimaru can’t resist his little sister, either, huh?

“This is your fault for being so indecisive in the first place, you know. No wonder Lady Momiji is so anxious. If you’re a man, you need to make it clear who you love already!”

Yes. He did. I was curious which one Benimaru would choose—Alvis or Momiji—but then again, was now really the time for that? I honestly began to sympathize with him. If I were him, I probably wouldn’t want this talked about in front of everyone, either.

“No, Lady Shuna. Victory is something I must seize with my own hands!”

Now it was Momiji making the emotional declarations. Yow. Now Alvis had a huge disadvantage. Momiji was clearly doing a better job laying the groundwork. Was this battle over?

But just then:

“You won’t get away with this.”

Alvis, of all people, showed up, slipping right out from behind Shuna.

“I have just arrived now with reinforcements from Eurazania.”

I didn’t ask for any, and I’d heard nothing about any…but in Alvis’s hand was a letter from Milim. It contained a single sentence: Do your best! Hmm. Who was it meant for? Pretty open-ended message there.

But hang on. How did Alvis get inside the labyrinth?

“Lady Milim provided the magic. You developed it for her, didn’t you, Sir Rimuru?”

Ohhh, right. Milim had gotten telepathic permission from Ramiris to send military forces directly into the labyrinth, huh? That was a pretty reckless decision on Milim’s part, but then, anything was possible with her.

So now we had a force of twenty thousand led by Alvis—not just lycanthropes but also a bunch of harpies, reportedly. A few choice representatives from the Beast Master’s Warrior Alliance were even along for the ride.

Even Benimaru had to give this a resigned grin. As long as Milim’s will was involved, there was absolutely no way we could send Alvis’s troops back home. Besides, if I did, Momiji would never, ever give Benimaru a moment of peace.

“All right, all right. Momiji, I’m giving you my force. Take care of it for me.”

“With pleasure!”

She looked happy—and with that, the battle between the two women began.

“I hope you don’t drag me down at all.”

“Hee-hee-hee! What kind of talk is that, hmm?”

I was already picturing the sparks flying between them. Was this really okay? I was a little concerned about that.

So despite all the interruptions, we had a general idea of who we were going to deploy. I should note that Alvis’s reinforcements were completely dependable fighters. We were still at a numerical disadvantage, but I think this gave us a lot more wiggle room. Geld would be in the front row, Momiji taking up the rear. The cavalry, so to speak, was on the wings—Shion on the right and Alvis on the left.

This all helped me relax a little, but we still had a battle to fight. Pulling myself together, I sent the orders for each division to head out.

Shion and Geld, waiting for this moment all week, immediately sprang into action. Momiji followed suit, and suddenly the Control Center was busier than ever.

On Floor 95, currently serving as Floor 100, there was a vast open space—not enough of one for military training, but if we were just housing troops, it would suffice. With that in mind, the members of Geld’s Second Army Corps and Benimaru’s Fourth Corps were put on standby in and around Floor 100. They’d be coming down in about an hour, so I decided to go out and give them a little morale boost—that, and they needed my teleportation magic to get them down here anyway.

“Sir Rimuru, do you have a moment?” Soei whispered into my ear as I prepared to set off.

“What’s up?”

“I’ve just received word from Moss that signs of battle were detected in the direction of Blumund. After an investigation, we found that Lady Treyni is engaged in battle with someone.”

“What?!”

Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen Treyni for the past ten or so days. She mentioned going out to “greet” someone, and she hadn’t been back since. Was she fighting this whole time, then?

“I’m sorry, Soei, but can you go and help her out a bit?”

Soei seemed to hesitate for a moment. Maybe he worried that this kept me too unguarded. Everyone really worries too damn much around here. They didn’t have to be so touchy all the time, you know? Benimaru was still here, and if something came up, we could always tap the Ten Dungeon Marvels. I was a lot more worried about Treyni than myself at the moment.

After exchanging glances with Benimaru, Soei nodded. If Benimaru was here with me, Soei must’ve been willing to accept my orders. I was glad but also a little irritated. Was he that concerned about me? Like, I know I was killed once, according to Chloe, but I’m evolved now. I’m a demon lord.

…But that’s the equivalent of “I’m retiring in a week,” isn’t it?

Still, there was no point being all anxious. If something popped up, I was sure Raphael would let me know anyway.

“Very well. I will leave at once.”

“Thanks.”

Soei promptly disappeared. His Instantmove skill was as brilliant as usual.

If Treyni had been fighting all this time, her opponent must have been at about her level. Once Soei joined in, I was sure victory would come soon after. It did bother me, and I’d have loved to know who she was fighting, but my hands were tied at the moment. I had to finish the fight in front of me first.

One hour later, a massive number of magic-born were crowded together on Floor 100’s vacant space. As soon as I showed up, everyone stood still and quieted down. It was a little scary, frankly, how under control they were. Morale was high, and motivation definitely wasn’t a problem.

“Um… Right! Soldiers, this one battle is all it will take to drive the imperial army out of our federation. Our goal here is total victory, and I want every single one of you to come out alive and share the glory with us. That is all!”

Not to sound modest or whatever, but I really suck at speeches. It’d be nice if Raphael could just write ’em and read ’em out for me, but that’s the exact kind of time that it starts pretending not to hear me. I tried my best to convey my message in my own words, and surprisingly, the magic-born seemed to accept it. From what I heard later, it received praise from both the old guard and newer magic-born in their army.

“Y-yeaaaahhh! Sir Rimuru’s speech was amazing!”

“I can die now. I’ve got no regrets left in life!!”

“You idiot! Dying means you’ve been killed!!”

They told me this was the talk around the army later, but I wasn’t aware at the time, so I just took all those silent rows of troops and teleported them to the ground floor.

Well, things were pretty darn lonely down here again. Shion and Diablo were out fighting this time, so it was only Benimaru and me now.

“We can win, right?”

“No problems there, no. I didn’t see any movements from the imperial soldiers, but there’s a flurry of activity among the leadership, it looks like. That straggler Krishna must’ve reported on events in the labyrinth. If I were them, and he told me he was the only survivor, I’d be out of there in a hurry… Well, I wouldn’t put us in this situation in the first place, but you understand what I mean.”

His classic fearless smile was on his face. I had to agree with him. Being out of contact with my people gets me nervous enough as it is, so I probably wouldn’t let it happen unless we came up with some countermeasures. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting this plan of ours to be nearly as successful as it turned out to be.

“No matter what it is, it never pays to be greedy, huh?”

“Indeed. War and looting go hand in hand, but it’s forbidden in our military, at least.”

Excellent. In war, the side to lose their composure first usually loses, but once your desires get stoked a little bit, it’s easy to get too heated up. We took advantage of that habit in this campaign, and it worked scarily well. It’s a good lesson for us, too—better not fall in the same trap they did.

We were on our way back to the Control Center, discussing this, when a possibility occurred to me.

“Hey, you and I are the only ones here, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, if—if—there happen to be any enemies still hiding in the labyrinth, they’d never let an opportunity like this go to waste, would they? What do you think of that?”

“Oh, come now. There’s no way anyone could time a move so precisely like that.”

Yeah. I was getting too suspicious. Even Raphael had signed off on the labyrinth’s current safety. Being paranoid all day would accomplish nothing, so I decided to leave the thought at that. Continually dredging up the same thoughts in your mind is a great way to make yourself anxious, after all. But I just had a bad feeling for a little while…

…?

Like, you know. It’s not that I doubt Raphael. I just couldn’t help but wonder if it overlooked something.

Understood. All potentially suspicious subjects have been identified.

Yeah, that I trust in. But what if it’s someone I know really well? Like Elen’s gang, for example. I trust all of them, so if they ever betrayed me, I’d suffer a whole lot for it.

But these were still all just what-ifs. There was absolutely no reason for Elen and her friends to turn traitor; we’d built up a lot of trust in each other by then. I could firmly say that they were perfectly fine.

But how could we assume that the same’s true for everybody else, too?

…

I knew my staff officers were fine. Folks like Mjöllmile were cutting out sleep to give their all for me. There was no way I could start doubting him.

Apart from them, I supposed there were the people I’d gotten to know outside my own government—the assorted visitors who’d come to stay with us since the Founder’s Festival. For example…

“Rimuruuu!”

I saw a group of people coming from Labyrinth City. Oh, no way.

The guy waving up front was Masayuki, someone I knew well, and he had two others with him—a warrior and a wizard. Jinrai and Bernie, right? I think those were their names. Those two still kinda held a grudge against me, so we hadn’t talked much.

“I sincerely doubt it, but you don’t think Masayuki might start targeting me, do you?”

“Oh, no. That’s really worrying too much, I would say.”

“Yeah.”

Benimaru dismissed the concern. I sure didn’t wanna start suspecting Masayuki. And by the way, hadn’t Gadora mentioned that Masayuki was the spitting image of Emperor Ludora or something? …Nah. It had to just be a goofy coincidence.

Understood. After careful examination of the Empire’s history and other assorted elements, the chances of the subject Masayuki and Emperor Ludora being the same person are zero percent.

Right. Of course.

Feeling a bit relieved, I called out to the guy, “Hey, Masayuki. Something up?”

“Something up? Kind of a lot, man! You naming me an army leader out of nowhere has given me a ton of trouble! Even the vampires were asking me if they could temporarily join in—I don’t even know what to do with them. And there’s just been a huge amount of activity down here, you know? Everyone in the city’s starting to ask what’s going on.”

Having so many volunteers at once, Masayuki explained, made it hard to deal with them in any organized fashion. And us sending out an army like I just did must’ve made all those volunteers clamor for some action of their own. I didn’t think he was exaggerating at all—the disheartened look on his face told me that much. Plus, if Masayuki was trying to trick me, Raphael would’ve warned me about it long ago. So nah, no point doubting him.

“Well, most of the volunteers are still staying in the towns they live in, right?”

“Yes, but…”

The city of Rimuru, formerly on the surface, was now evacuated to the Dungeon’s provisionary Floor 101. The sun and stars were as visible as always down there, so a lot of people were surprisingly oblivious to current events. The war was already underway, but some citizens must’ve thought we were still in a standoff at some distant vista.

The twenty thousand members of the Volunteer Army were entrusted with maintaining security in the city during this state of emergency, but thanks to the pervading calm across Floor 101, they didn’t have much to do. Masayuki himself, however, was still real busy, it looked like.

His main problem at the moment had to do with the researchers living in Labyrinth City. They were primarily meant to be office staff, but most of the people Luminus sent were Calamity-grade threats in a fight. Overcomers was the term for them, apparently, but they all had a lot of free time on their hands. Many had come to directly speak with Masayuki to see if they could get a little action in this war, like it was some kind of fun carnival. Bacchus, sent in from the Crusaders, and Jiwu, one of Masayuki’s old party companions, were currently soothing them over, he said—but they couldn’t keep them under control forever, so he was begging me to do something about it.

Maybe, the paranoid part of my mind told me, they were trying to instigate Masayuki into starting some big commotion so they could come after me. It was possible, but if so, I really thought they would’ve taken action earlier. That possibility didn’t seem too likely, either. I really am thinking too much. Deep breath.

“That sure does sound rough…”

“Yeah, doesn’t it? So please, lend us a hand here!”

“Don’t worry. This war’s gonna be over real soon, so just keep giving ’em the runaround until then, okay?”

“No, no, you can’t just make it sound easy like that, Rimuru…”

Masayuki kept complaining, a hangdog look on his face. But nobody should underestimate my ability to ignore serious problems tossed in my lap. This sounded like a lot of trouble, and I just didn’t have the time to get involved. All this paranoid doubting had tired me out, and I really wanted to get back to my Control Center. Then Shuna could pour me some tea, maybe prepare a slice of delicious cake, and all would be well.

“You’re trying to run from me, aren’t you, Rimuru?!”

“Ha-ha-ha!”

“Don’t ‘ha-ha-ha’ me!”

Okay, maybe this was a pointless argument—but I was demonstrating a master class on giving people the runaround. Masayuki should really learn from this so he can reach my own lofty heights. That was what I was hoping for, and that was why I was currently shoving him away from me.

“If that’s your only business, I need to get back, all right?”

“You’re positive the war’s going to end soon?”

“I’m hoping to wrap it up today, actually.”

“Well, we haven’t done anything, so it hardly even seems real at all, but now you’re really fighting…?”

I could empathize with that. That’s kind of my ideal, not letting the general public know at all.

“Pretty much, yeah. So take it easy, okay?”

With a grin, I did my best to convince Masayuki to see things my way. That oughtta solve the problem. Now to duck back inside and enjoy some strawberry shortcake—

“Whoa, whoa, wait a sec! Masayuki’s lookin’ out for you, so I’ve been holding back, but we haven’t given up on defeating you, all right? And now you’re forgetting all about that and trying to take advantage of him? What kind of a joke is this?”

Just when I thought the problem was solved, a new one arose. Jinrai, a man I assumed was just along for the ride with Masayuki, chose this moment to pipe up.

“Aw, c’mon, that was just a misunderstanding. Take advantage of you? There’s no need to make it sound so disgraceful…”

I attempted to make excuses but wasn’t doing a good job at it. I was trying to take advantage of him, after all. But then I received some unexpected backup.

“Jinrai! That’s out of order. Rimuru’s working so hard for everybody in town right now!”

Now Masayuki was trying to appease Jinrai. Thanks, man. I’ll let you have some cake later! And as I flashed him a grateful smile, Jinrai immediately stopped complaining. I’m sure he wasn’t happy about it, but at least he was tolerant enough to bottle it up. He was a lot more mature than his face suggested.

So that was the end of it. Or so I thought. But life’s never that easy.

“No, Jinrai’s right, Masayuki! Heroes and demon lords are fated to clash with each other. So quit holding back forever, and let’s just take this guy down as soon as we can!”

Bernie, usually observing from a step behind, chose this moment to get all worked up. With a sigh, I pondered how I’d calm him down.

“If you won’t do it,” Bernie continued as he began casting a spell, “then I will!”

Cut me a break, I thought. Then things got serious.

“Holy Field!”

You’re kidding me, I almost caught myself yelling. That spell was extremely tough to handle, much less solo. I knew Bernie was an otherworlder and probably decent at magic, but I didn’t think he held sway over that kind of advanced holy stuff. Like, was he even serious—?!

Murderous intent detected. The subject Bernie is an enemy!!

Then I finally realized what was going on.

I thought it was impossible; I kept trying to believe that I was worrying too much about it. But the enemy was right here, in front of me, the whole time.

And then someone moved even faster than I did. There was a clear, high-pitched tiiiing. It was caused by the collision between Benimaru’s sword and Bernie’s blade of light.

“Bernie, what are…? You can fight with a sword?!”

Jinrai was evidently surprised. It must have been the first time Bernie wielded a sword in front of Jinrai and the others, which meant he had been hiding it from his supposed friends for who knows how long.

“Pfft! I’m not stupid enough to reveal my hand that easily!”

The look on his face said it all to me. If he was gonna do this, he wanted to throw every skill he had toward the effort.

“Dammit! So you tricked both me and Masayuki?!”

“Tricked? Stop making it sound so mean. I just used you to get closer to the demon lord.”

“Y-you used us?”

“Yeah. Masayuki was a helpful connection. Thanks to him, I’ve been granted a golden opportunity. Much appreciated!”

He was crossing swords with Benimaru, but Bernie was chatting with Jinrai like they were chilling at the bar. I was listening in as well, so maybe I shouldn’t talk, but it looked like he was hiding one hell of a lot of skill.

“Benimaru, let me help you—”

“No, I’ll take care of him. Keep a close eye on our surroundings, Sir Rimuru.”

I was about to join the fray, but Benimaru stopped me. Trusting him to his word, I stepped up my vigilance.

Even in the midst of this, Bernie and Jinrai kept talking.

“Masayuki was just a ‘connection’ to you?! D-don’t give me that crap!”

“Come on, like you never thought of it that way. You know he’s really not strong at all, right? He’s just bluffing his way through life.”

That made the blood drain from Masayuki’s face. Oops. Busted! But I probably shouldn’t joke, because this was a life-or-death situation for him.

Then Jinrai surprised me all over again.

“Well, so what? I don’t care if he’s bluffing or not—Masayuki’s an incredible man! He’s never failed us—not even once!”

Oh, he knew? I guess he saw the guy for what he was after all… A bluffer, yeah, but definitely a lot more than that. I should probably rethink my opinion of Jinrai, although Masayuki was giving him a hurt-puppy-dog look now.

Bernie, it seemed, wasn’t a fan of this reaction.

“Pshhh! So you knew, and you still stuck with him? And you actually respect this total loser? Don’t make me laugh!”

The irritation was glaring in his raised voice. But I was the really annoyed one here.

“What’s so bad about bluffing? I’m bluffing my way through my life, too!”

“R-Rimuru…!”

“Well, aren’t I? I used to be an anonymous face at the office. I wasn’t living in some world full of Heroes and demon lords, but I still tried my best every day, because I had no other choice! And I wouldn’t want oblivious idiots like you to laugh at me about it!”

Masayuki silently nodded.

“Y-you…” Jinrai glanced at me. Even he was looking a little confused now. I kept going.

“I mean, isn’t it obvious? If I don’t keep telling myself that what I’m doing is right, I’d never be able to be king of this realm or whatever!”

Fired up from shouting, I walked over to Masayuki’s side—slowly, so I didn’t alarm Bernie while he was crossing swords with Benimaru.

“Everybody’s doing their best just to keep living, you know. That’s why I’m doing what I can to create a world where we can all live happily together. Masayuki’s done a lot to help out with that. He’s done so much for me! And I’m not gonna sit here and allow you to make fun of him!”

I stood in front of Masayuki as I admonished Bernie. Hearing that, Jinrai deeply nodded. So did Masayuki.

“Bernie, were you planning to use me like this from the beginning?”

He spoke directly to Bernie, his past panic now vanished without a trace.

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” Bernie replied, keeping his distance from Benimaru—who, in turn, was in front of me, sizing him up. Under the effects of the Holy Field, Benimaru wasn’t able to tap his full powers, so instead of trying to finish Bernie off in one fell swoop, he was taking more of a wait-and-see approach.

“Did Yuuki order you to?”

“Huh? …Oh. Right. Heh… Well, I could explain all that to you, but what’s in it for me?”

He was still lording it over us, but at least he was still talking. Maybe, with the Holy Field in place, he had no doubts about his superior position?

Negative. He has some sort of aim in mind… Data confirmed. There is another subject who is a member of Masayuki’s party. After searching for data on this subject, her presence was not found in the labyrinth. However, there is no record of her ever leaving it. This is…

Raphael was spitting out data with frightening speed. Judging by how it wasn’t bothering to organize any of it for me in advance, it must’ve thought this was a pretty major emergency.

If I recall, there was one more member of Masayuki’s gang—Jiwu. She was helping Bacchus smooth things over with the overcomers…

Confirmed. A mass murder has occurred in the laboratory on Floor 100. The subject Bacchus and several overcomers have been slaughtered. Their souls have been put in protective custody as an emergency measure—

That’s serious news!

I wouldn’t know about Bacchus, but each overcomer down there was supposed to be an over-A monster. It was really hard to believe she could kill so many of them in the tiny sliver of time since she left Masayuki’s side. Defeating an overcomer taking pains to defend himself was an extremely difficult task for anyone—they all had Ultraspeed Regeneration and an artist’s palette of other special skills. With Benimaru’s firepower or Zegion’s incredible evolution, I could see it…but no way any of the other Dungeon Marvels, Kumara included, could pull that off.

And that wasn’t the only issue. If we weren’t receiving any response from Jiwu at the moment, that couldn’t be ignored. I mean, Raphael was keeping tabs on every single thing going on in the labyrinth, wasn’t he? If he couldn’t find her inside the labyrinth, that meant Jiwu was—

(Mr. Tempest!!)

That voice reached my mind a split second before the Thought Communication came along. The next moment, I used Mind Accelerate to slow down time for me. Did I respond first, or was it Raphael? Either way, it wound up saving my life.

“Die!”

A black flash of light closed in on my chest.

Someone, probably Jiwu, had taken a shot at me from what seemed to be a perfectly concealed hiding place. I had fallen on the spot and rolled away, putting aside all dignity and royal personage, and that helped me escape that deadly blade.

It was all thanks to that warning—one issued by Chloe, the little girl, who was wearing a mask. She was back to her old habits with that “Mr. Tempest” stuff, but there was no time to poke fun at her about it.

Really, this was a pretty bad situation. I had been doing my best to keep a watchful eye on the surroundings, and Raphael was staying vigilant as well. If she had managed to get through that security net, there could’ve been only one way. The assassin must’ve had an ultimate skill, too.

I had finally gotten my eyes on the assassin just now, and it was definitely Jiwu. Her face was expressionless as always, but the atmosphere she presented was a total one-eighty from before. She was cold—and sharpened. It wasn’t an exaggeration to call her a whole other person.

“What a surprise. You’ve been tailing me in secret?” Jiwu said to Chloe.

Her assassination attempt had failed, but Jiwu wasn’t upset about it. She pointed the black blade extending from the pendant in her hand at Chloe.

“If you’re all going to fight out in the open like this, of course we’re going to notice.”

“You’re a talented little girl, aren’t you?”

“I don’t need you telling me that. And I’m not a little girl!”

With that, Chloe transformed into an adult woman. She took out Moonlight, the God-class rapier, and focused it straight at Jiwu. Now we were graced with the presence of Chloe the Hero, in all her masked glory.

“Pshhh! We had the perfect chance served up, and you just had to ruin it. Way to blow everything, Jiwu!”

Bernie clicked his tongue at Jiwu.

“I’m sorry,” she calmly replied. “I was trying to make sure nobody interfered with us, but I didn’t realize there was this ambush going on.”

These two are definitely acquainted. They must both be assassins, quite skilled ones, sent by someone who wanted me dead. Both an even match for each other, too—which meant Bernie might very well have an ultimate skill of his own.

He glared at Benimaru as Jiwu and Chloe raised their swords against each other. I was standing in front of Masayuki and Jinrai, protecting them as I saw what unfolded.

“Well, no helping it now. If we’ve blown our cover, there’s no reason to hide our full abilities, either.”

“I agree with you on that. We need to rub these enemies out as soon as we can.”

Bernie and Jiwu focused their strength into the pendants that were the sources of their weapons. They reacted by shining even brighter than before. It looked familiar to me.

“Ah… So you’re both Imperial Guardians?” I said.

Once he was fully equipped, Bernie nodded his assent, rolling his eyes as he did.

“Guess you’ve already started fighting my compatriots, huh? But you better not shuffle me in with the other Imperial Knights.”

He wasn’t kidding, either. In fact, he seemed to be hiding some pretty extraordinary abilities.

“Enough chitchat. Let’s just kill them already.”

Jiwu had a unique set of armor on as well—its design was similar to what I saw before, but this set was jet-black, with a sheen like lonely stars floating in the darkness.

Legend-class armor, I assumed, and probably just a hair’s width away from God-class.

Bernie had the same gear. His armor was yellow in hue, but performancewise, it was on par with Jiwu. And I was sure the skills of the wearers were similar to the specs of their armor.

“Jiwu… You feel that way about me, too…?”

The forlorn question from Masayuki was greeted with a cold stare. “Of course. I only protected you because that was my mission,” Jiwu replied.

It was a frank, direct statement, nothing more to it than that. And if I could recognize it as such, I couldn’t imagine how much it hurt Masayuki. I really wanted to offer him some condolences, but now wasn’t the time.

“Benimaru, watch out! She’s super strong. I’m positive she’s hiding an ultimate skill.”

“An ultimate? You mean beyond a unique? Will it take more than hard work and perseverance for me to survive, then?”

“Yeah, honestly, I don’t think you can win.”

“Goodness. If you put it that way, Sir Rimuru, it’s all the more depressing.”

That was my pure, impartial evaluation, but Benimaru just gave it a wry grin. He still seemed pretty chill about this—maybe he had some ideas of his own? Ultimate skills could only be defended with other ultimate skills. That was the absolute law of it, and I didn’t think there was a way to get around that—but then again, this was the labyrinth. Even if worse came to worst, neither of us was going to die, so I decided to let Benimaru handle his own affairs.

The same applied to Chloe. I mean, she’s basically the most powerful Hero in the world. She totally overwhelmed Veldora, even, and that was without an ultimate skill. Admittedly, that was more the out-of-control Chronoa than Chloe, but either way, she’s got tremendous skill in a fight. Plus, now she does have an ultimate skill—Yog-Sothoth, Lord of Time.

I really didn’t see her losing to Jiwu. If there was any concern, it was over whether she could actually control Yog-Sothoth, I suppose. So just for extra insurance, I sent an order over to Raphael.

Acknowledged. Beginning analysis of the enemy’s possessed skill.

That should work, right?

Thus, for now, I decided to watch the battle unfold, preparing myself to step in at any time if need be.

Bernie was the first to react.

Grasping his pendant, he funneled his strength into it once more. Then the pendant itself morphed, changing shape and turning into a spear.

“I’ve never shown you this before, but spear combat’s actually my specialty. Let me give you a little show before you die.”

After contemptuously declaring that to us all, he dropped down low and readied himself for combat. Then, without any spellcasting, he invoked some magic on his spear. This was Thunder Rain, a lightning-type magic—a ranged attack, essentially, but all its energy was focused entirely on that spear. Pretty neat move, for sure, but not as much of a threat as I was imagining.

Benimaru fought back, infusing Dark Flame into his own blade. The black flames entwined themselves around the crimson sword, giving off an enigmatic sparkle. Another fine move—one that put him so high among the monster hierarchy that his command abilities seemed like just a nice bonus in comparison.

Then they both acted simultaneously.

I thought Bernie was only a magic-user, but his spear skills were incredible. All that bragging earlier really wasn’t just for show. Still, though, I was able to follow his movements with ease. What bothered me, though, was that Predict Future Attack still hadn’t activated for me. Which meant…

Report. The subject Bernie’s skill is preventing any interference.

Ah, I thought so. There was probably some kind of block on Jiwu, too, that prevented me from keeping up with her moves earlier. Both of them might’ve had a skill that protected them from any outside interference, which was pretty helpful for them…but what interested me more was what other sorts of skills they might have.

Benimaru and Bernie were waging a pretty even battle. I saw no distress at all on Benimaru’s face; he was keeping up with Bernie just fine. Bernie, meanwhile, was starting to look a tad irritated. Benimaru had more core strength, and that was giving him an edge. With the difference in equipped battle gear, I still thought this was Bernie’s fight to win, so I could get it if he was frustrated.

“Got some fight in you, huh?”

“You’re certainly a disappointment.”

Benimaru’s reply made Bernie visibly scowl. That must’ve been an affront to his pride, because now he was glaring at Benimaru like he’d killed his parents.

“How’s a monster get off saying that to me? You gonna keep saying that once you get a taste of this?”

With that shout, Bernie spun his spear around and attempted to get out of Benimaru’s range. Keeping himself both defended and at the ready to strike, he stepped back in order to attempt a finisher. But Benimaru wasn’t about to let him. He easily closed the distanced at once, expertly anticipating his moves.

It was quite a sight. I knew Benimaru had been doing a little clandestine training of his own lately, but I had no idea he had grown to that level… If you asked me, I’d say his skills were even better than Hakuro’s now. I mean, I thought Alberto was pretty fly with a sword, but there was no doubt in my mind that Benimaru surpassed him. And the way he controlled his Dark Flame! He wasn’t letting that stuff sweep him away at all. It was truly his own to handle, and I was amazed by it.

The unique skill Born Leader granted him complete control over his own power, and you couldn’t not have been impressed by it. I asked him not long ago whether Zegion was stronger than him, but looking at him perform now, I wasn’t so sure who was on top of whom any longer. Depending on how things went, the goddess of victory could’ve smiled at either one of them.

“W-wow…”

“Lemme just tell you right now, trying to fight power that strong’s just suicide, all right? And Rimuru’s even stronger than that, so maybe try not to mess around with me so much going forward, okay?”

“S-sure thing, Masayuki…”

I could hear Masayuki and Jinrai talking behind me. From their perspective, Benimaru and Bernie probably looked like a bunch of vague blurs in the air, jumping around in unpredictable directions. I’m sure they could tell how awesome they were anyway, but too bad for them, I guess.

Personally, I had been using Uriel’s Absolute Defense to protect them both from any stray bullets—or I suppose, stray explosive shock waves. But that was actually a lot tougher than it seemed. Bernie’s ultimate skill was applying itself to all his attacks, so if I wasn’t careful, he could absolutely bust through Absolute Defense. I mean, it was really Raphael’s problem and not mine, but still.

But enough about the pair behind me. I was more concerned about how Benimaru’s fight would turn out. Apparently Bernie’s finisher required him to be a certain distance away from his target to work. He’d been trying to push Benimaru away from him for a little while now, no longer trying to hide his frustration. Benimaru, meanwhile, was the very picture of calm composure, coolly cornering Bernie and ever so gradually starting to land real wounds on him. At this rate, I thought his victory was just a matter of time—but that turned out to be wishful thinking.

In the face of Benimaru’s onslaught, Bernie found himself thrown off-balance. That momentary opening allowed Benimaru to slash him down with his Dark Flame–infused blade. That should have been fatal, but Bernie just smirked at him.

“You can’t beat me!”

His face was bright as the sun, as if being cornered up to now was just a front—like he’d anticipated all this, or that we were all dancing in the palm of his hand, even. It was clear what had happened. Only an ultimate skill can counter an ultimate skill, and thanks to this ironclad rule, Benimaru’s attack was canceled out.

Now Bernie was the victorious one, while Benimaru’s face twisted in frustration. He must’ve thought that if his unique skills didn’t work, his baseline swordplay would… But reality was crueler than that. His sword did reach Bernie, but once again, his armor blocked it, preventing the blow from being fatal. Even worse, whatever damage it did deal, Bernie promptly cast recovery magic to heal up.

At this rate, the only way for Benimaru to win was with a killing blow. He was the better swordfighter, but Bernie had the ultimate skill, making this an extremely uphill battle for him. He was—really, for the first time I knew—in a really tough situation, and before long, Bernie had him on the defensive.

As Benimaru was put in that tight spot, Chloe was facing an unexpectedly tough bout of her own.

In terms of sheer ability, Chloe was by far the best—but Jiwu, a specialist at striking her foes’ weak points, didn’t even try to wage a typical swordfight against her. She was also doing things like putting up isolating barriers to keep Chloe from calling for backup or conjuring up toxic dark mist to blind her—all these things to help give her a situational advantage.

That sort of thing wouldn’t work on the masked Chloe, but with Jiwu so intent on escaping her at every moment, she was having trouble catching her. Jiwu kept running away; Chloe kept chasing her; and the result was a very prolonged battle.

…But hey, unlike Benimaru, Chloe’s got an ultimate skill, right? If she was more powerful than I was, I didn’t think she was about to lose to Jiwu. So I didn’t pay them particularly close attention, assuming that everything was cool with Chloe, but apparently things weren’t gonna go that easy. By the time Benimaru was thrown on the defensive, Chloe was facing some real trouble as well.

“You sure love scampering away from me, huh?” she said to Jiwu.

“Of course. Your sword’s too dangerous. I have a hunch it could penetrate my defenses.”

Jiwu was cautious. She was facing an unknown in Chloe, and she kept her head as she tried to deal with her. Chloe’s Absolute Severance was a unique skill, but for some reason, it boasted so much power that you could feasibly call it an ultimate if you wanted to. Maybe Jiwu was just being modest when faced with its power, but no, a Legend-class suit of armor definitely wouldn’t stop it. She even dealt damage to Veldora with it, so I’d have to say that Jiwu was taking the right strategy here.

“You know running around all day won’t beat me, don’t you?”

“I can’t deny that… But that’s not the problem. I’m not here to win; I’m here to protect Bernie. And once he kills that ogre, we’re both going to kill you next.”

I wasn’t about to take that sitting down, but then Jiwu started to get real tricky with me. Every time I tried to join in the fray, she’d start lobbing attacks at Labyrinth City behind me. The quarantined capital city was safely ensconced behind Masayuki and the others, but if any magic landed on them, I couldn’t guess how much damage it’d cause.

Even worse, Jiwu was asking for Bernie’s assistance.

“We’ve got too much unexpected trouble, Bernie. This woman’s a lot more dangerous than I thought. She’s too much to deal with alongside the demon lord Rimuru at the same time, so I want to play it safe. I need you to help me attack Labyrinth City to keep him from intervening.”

“Understood. I’ll give you a hand when I’m able.”

With Bernie joining in the potshots, that immediately doubled my burden. Masayuki and Jinrai had Resurrection Bracelets, so they’d be fine even in the worst-case scenario… But Labyrinth City was packed full of unwitting citizens. This was meant to be a safe space for them, and they wouldn’t all be wearing bracelets at all times—the adventurers evacuated in here would’ve each had one, but not your average goblin on the street.

So now I had to not only keep the guys behind me safe from stray magic blasts; I also had to deal with Jiwu’s and Bernie’s harassment. All their attacks on the city were of the ranged type, so I could just swallow it up with Belzebuth, Lord of Gluttony, and that was that, but now I no longer had the free time to help Chloe at all.

Like, seriously, man.

Good thing, then, that Chloe came here in time to help us out. If it were just Benimaru and me here, we might’ve been defeated long ago. After all, Benimaru was only barely able to stave off Bernie’s attacks. One false move, and he might be overwhelmed by them entirely, making it hard to keep his foe from attacking the city. The edge he had in absolute ability was what allowed him to keep this battle going, really. A single direct hit from Bernie’s onslaught would instantly kill him, but Benimaru handled it all with a calm, studied demeanor. The tables might be turned skillwise at the moment, but I still thought Benimaru deserved a round of applause.

Still, though… I thought of all these guys as little more than roadies for Masayuki, but they had some wild hidden abilities. In a way, the fact that they had deceived me for so long showed just how good they really were. Even Luminus didn’t give these guys the time of day when she met them at the festival. I guess I can’t blame myself—okay, Raphael—for overlooking them, too.

Regardless, I’d say we were in a pretty dire situation right now. In addition to everything else, my Thought Communication with Ramiris was cut off, so we were now forced to overcome this assault all by ourselves. And I guess Chloe could sense my anxiety, because she chose that moment to take a gamble—and that led to an unforeseen blunder.

“If that’s how it is, time to pull something out of my sleeve.”

If she had something to get us out of this situation, I’d really love to see it right about now. But for some reason, I had a bad premonition about it.

For a single moment, the world went dark on me. All movement stopped, and I felt like someone had tied me up with rope. Unable to comprehend what happened, I realized I had experienced this feeling some time before. It was when Guy and Chloe were fighting, I think…

Report. The subject Chloe Aubert’s life energy is confirmed to be falling. She appears to have failed to control her skill.

This was how having time stopped felt, I realized. Just as I did, Raphael spat out a warning—and then I noticed Chloe was back in child form.

“Whoa! Chloe?!”

“Oh, no way! This power’s too inefficient for me to handle right now—”

“I told you it was too hard to control for long periods of time!”

I didn’t know what happened, but it was clear Chloe’s “trick up her sleeve” failed big-time. Even worse, it also gravely compromised Chloe’s ability to fight. I guess she couldn’t fully control Yog-Sothoth after all. She seemed to have it pretty well mastered in the last fight with Guy, but I guess that was mostly Guy’s own power at work, with Chloe simply responding to it. That was still impressive enough, though—if she wasn’t able to move in that time-stopped world, it would’ve been a one-sided whipping Guy dealt to her.

But a practice battle is different from a real one. It looked like Chloe could still stop time for a moment, but it consumed a vast amount of energy. The proof was all in her current child form.

See, this is exactly why using untested powers on the spur of the moment like this is such a problem! It’d be a completely different story if she had full control over Yog-Sothoth, but not even Raphael had completed its analysis of that move yet, so it was a bad mistake to count on a miracle there.

(Yo! Chloe! You okay?)

(I might be in a little trouble. I can go back to my original form, but it’ll take a while before I’m my usual self again…)

She sounded frustrated through the Thought Communication. But at least things weren’t completely dire. Chloe wasn’t out of the battle permanently, which was a great relief.

“I don’t know what you were struggling to do, but you’re wasting your time. You can’t even figure out your own strength? You’re even more of a shambles than I thought.”

“Ha-ha-ha! Well, that’s just who she is. You were just being too careful, Jiwu.”

Jiwu and Bernie exchanged chuckles over Chloe’s mistake. But just then, a voice boomed in my mind like a message from the heavens.

Report. Analysis of the enemy’s skills complete.

Damn! That was fast!!

It still hadn’t wrapped up Chloe’s Yog-Sothoth yet, but Bernie’s and Jiwu’s ultimate skills were apparently a piece of cake by comparison. I would’ve been satisfied if we could have narrowed them down to a specific family of moves, even, but this was a happy miscalculation on my part.

So what’s up? Lay it on me.

Report. The subjects Bernie and Jiwu share a great number of similarities in abilities, to the point that they can be considered virtually identical. Unique skills are just that—skills borne from one’s personal individuality—and ultimate skills are born when a unique skill is brought past its set limits. But the fact that both of their skills are so similar indicates that—

…Are you saying Bernie and Jiwu borrowed their power from somebody?

Affirmative. The possibility is believed to be very high.

I see, I see.

You know, I was thinking this was a little unnatural, too. If you want an ultimate skill, like, that’s not the kinda thing you acquire with some half-hearted backyard effort. Even Hinata was stuck at the unique level with her arsenal, and overcomers like Granville and Luminus hadn’t awakened any ultimates, either. I don’t mean to sound like a prick, but these aren’t the kind of clearance-rack abilities someone at Bernie’s and Jiwu’s level could just pick up out of nowhere. An ultimate skill borrows a lot of its characteristics from the person possessing it—and while both were showing great obstruction and concealment skills, neither was using their power for anything beyond that. I was on the lookout this whole time, thinking they were hiding something—but it looked like they weren’t.

Affirmative. They are demonstrating absolute superiority over magic and unique skills, as well as complete concealment of their own powers. These are the powers that have been loaned to the subject Bernie and the subject Jiwu. Calculating backward from their energy levels, neither are in any position to exercise more powers than these.

So I was correct when I figured there was nothing left?

You never do know how things will turn out until they’re over, I thought as I looked at the smiling Bernie and Jiwu.

(Benimaru! Chloe! I found the secret to their power. They’re nasty opponents, but they’re not unbeatable. I’ve got an idea along those lines, but—can you guys hear me out?)

They both agreed without a second thought.

(Of course. If I could get a good slash in with my sword, I’d have won this long ago… But he’s a defensive specialist, and it’s incredibly annoying.)

Benimaru must’ve been prepared to keep fighting like this for a long while to come, in order to keep himself from losing. Just keep your eyes on the prize; don’t let your opponent’s moves faze you. Diablo and Shion were bound to return sooner or later, and they could go on the counterattack then. That’s my Samurai General, all right—calm no matter the situation and totally reliable.

(I believe in you, too, Rimuru! I wanna make up for that mistake, so if you have a winning plan, I’m game for it, no matter what!)

Chloe was up for this, too. Unlike Benimaru, her fight was one she could’ve won if she wasn’t in such a hurry. Absolute Severance could’ve penetrated Jiwu’s defenses, and in a one-on-one battle, the assassin would’ve been no match for her.

Still, this was a good lesson for her. Now we all knew how inexperienced she was with her ultimate skill, but that was something she could work on in the future. I’m sure that’s gonna work itself out with practice, so for now, I had to focus on ending this battle.

(Okay, here’s the deal. I want to get Benimaru and I connected with a soul corridor. That way, I can lend him some of my powers.)

(I’d be glad to borrow them. It’s somewhat embarrassing to ask for your help here, Sir Rimuru, but anything beats being defeated. I promise I will bring you victory.)

Benimaru gladly agreed. That was typical of him—practicality always came ahead of pride. Besides, if our opponents were tapping into borrowed power, too, I didn’t see any reason to be ashamed of it. Pound for pound, Benimaru was definitely the better fighter anyway.

With that in mind, I applied Absolute Severance to Benimaru’s sword. This boasts pretty much the same performance as Chloe has access to. It’s essentially the reverse of Absolute Defense, so both might be canceled out when clashed against each other, but against Bernie, this oughtta work well enough.

So that took care of Benimaru. Now for Chloe.

(Chloe… Chronoa… Listen to me. If you can keep on buying time for us, Benimaru’s gonna beat Bernie, I promise. After that, here’s how you’ll deal with Jiwu…)

For her, we’d take the opposite pattern. Chloe was back in adult form, but far from her usual self strengthwise. It was better to take a safe approach with her to ensure we could seal the deal. She merely had to survive until Benimaru won, and all would be well. That was my idea, but:

(Whoa, wait a minute! I’m not about to lose here or anything! If it’s one-on-one, I’m positive we can win!)

(She’s right, Rimuru. Yog-Sothoth kind of fell through our fingers there, but if we get serious with this battle, we’re not gonna lose.)

Chloe and her alter ego were both eager enough. I expected that from them, so I was hardly surprised. So I decided to make another suggestion.

(Okay. Then I have one condition.)

(What?)

(Use Yog-Sothoth one more time. I want this victory to be perfect for you.)

(…Huh?)

(Like, you can stop time for a really tiny little bit, but it’s too short to work on Jiwu, right?)

It seemed to me that Chloe was in full control of her skills, as long as she didn’t go all reckless with them. When I said “really tiny little bit,” I couldn’t tell exactly how many seconds that was, but it probably wouldn’t be enough time to hunt down Jiwu and her ultimate skill. That was why she went over the limit like she did… But next time, she oughtta be just fine.

(I’ll help you out this time, okay? I’ll help with the calculations and stuff, and you can try it again.)

(Well, if you say so; I’m not complaining…)

(You’re going to open your computational domain to us? We ought to be able to control it then, definitely.)

Chloe and Chronoa said yes to the offer. They looked a little anxious still, but…um, so was I. This was Raphael’s idea, after all—can you blame me for wondering if this would actually work?

Guess I’d believe in the dude. It had to have an inkling this would work out, so I had to just trust Raphael and act accordingly.

Then Chronoa raised another issue.

(But I’m still not sure there’s enough energy. I can get into combat form, but I haven’t recovered enough to stop time yet. Even if your aid makes it more efficient, the current Chloe won’t be able to use the skill right at all.)

I was kinda wondering about that, too, actually. I knew I was planning to lend them my power and stuff, but would that suffice?

Affirmative. It is not a problem.

Good. Nice to get a firm yes there. I’m sure it’s got some kind of great plan, so I’ll stop bothering it for details.

(That won’t be a problem. If you don’t have enough, I’ll back you up.)

Or Raphael would anyway… But it’s not worth explaining everything here, so I’ll just take this opportunity to look way cool instead. That was enough to secure Chronoa’s agreement.

(All right. I’ll sign on, then. Time to show these two what they’ve got coming.)

So we had a plan. It was time for the counterattack.

Benimaru changed his offensive style. Until now he had been using a “static” sword stance, but after being granted Absolute Severance, he switched to a “dynamic” style. Static—or sei no tachi to borrow the samurai parlance—is a sword technique where the attacker allows their opponent to make the first move, with the focus on counterattacks. In other words, you’re parrying whatever comes at you instead of actively seeing chances to attack—a kind of offense-defense combo. The dynamic style, or dou no tachi, concentrates more on offense than defense; you’re basically trying to attack and win the day with a single strike, overwhelming your foe and never giving up the initiative.

This change in styles definitely registered with Bernie. Surprised, he went on the defensive. Now the tables were turned once more, but at this point, he still looked relaxed and in control.

That, however, vanished in an instant. Bernie was so in control only because he was confident—and all evidence so far backed him up—that Benimaru’s sword wouldn’t work against him. But all that was in the past.

Failing to keep up with the flurry of slashes and strikes, Bernie left himself open—and the fatal blow was aimed right for that moment.

“That—?!”

I wasn’t sure if he was gonna say “That’s crazy” or whatnot, but either way, that strike hewed straight through Bernie’s torso and chopped him in half. Continuing with the same motion, he arced his sword’s trajectory upward like a curving river, separating his head from the rest of his body—hence why Bernie couldn’t finish that last voiced reaction before his death.

Man. Talk about overwhelming—Benimaru totally knocked that out of the park.

“Y’know, if you went with that momentum from the start, you could’ve won easy, couldn’t you?”

“No, if I tried to do that, I would have broken my weapon. That armor was no joke, I thought, so I tried to avoid putting too much strain on my sword. It was a very awkward way to fight for me.”

That was “awkward”? Because he sure looked pretty majestic out there. I will agree that “dynamic” suits him better than “static,” though.

Now I was absolutely sure Benimaru outclassed Hakuro by now. He was a better physical specimen to start with, but now his skill level was about the same as Harkuro’s or higher. Once he gets serious about fighting, he’s just incredible. I mean, not one minute after going on the counterattack, Bernie was dead.

Chloe, meanwhile…

(Ohhh, I knew we wouldn’t have enough energy!!)

Chronoa sounded pained as she tried to trigger the skill. But right after that:

Report. There is no problem.

That calm voice was accompanied by the sound of an agonizing “Arrrrgghh!!”—or at least it felt that way in my mind. What was up with that? I had the sneaking suspicion that might have been her, actually—in fact, I was sure of it.

Hearing it sure made me feel depressed. It was just so pathetic. I hadn’t done anything bad, exactly, but I was the one causing it. Maybe it is my fault, then? I’m gonna have to treat Chloe to some pudding and apologize to get back on her good side.

But anyway, that was the end of our energy problems. The next thing I knew, the world stopped—and Jiwu was reduced to a pile of dust.

So yeah, that was how we beat Bernie and Jiwu, but now Raphael was taking a more forlorn tone with me.

…Report. The subject Bernie and the subject Jiwu are confirmed to be alive. I had forgotten about the existence of the Resurrection Bracelets.

Huh? Ah, no biggie.

Pretty rare for Raphael to make a careless error like that, though. In fact, this may very well be the first time ever.

“Oops. I should’ve broken their bracelets while I had the chance,” I said.

“They weren’t wearing bracelets.”

“Yeah. I had my eye out for those, but they didn’t have any on.”

Oh. Guess Benimaru and Chloe were being a lot more careful than I was, remembering the bracelets and checking to see if they were there. Maybe I was the careless one here. I sincerely doubted that Raphael simply overlooked them, so I guess Bernie and Jiwu got one up on us.

“Ah, about that…”

Masayuki, who had been quietly watching this the whole time, suddenly spoke up.

“To tell the truth,” Jinrai said for him, “we all kinda saw you as the enemy, so we never really took those bracelets of yours seriously. Like, we weren’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth or anything, but…”

He flipped up one of his pants legs—and amazingly, I saw him wearing a Resurrection Bracelet on his ankle.

“Um, yeah, that’s the bracelet…,” I said.

“I know. But like, whether we trusted it or not, it’s still a magical item, right? So we figured it’d work just as well no matter where you put it on. Bernie suggested it as kind of a little ‘rebel’ thing we could do.”

Apparently Bernie had anticipated this outcome enough that he took steps to address it. Benimaru was scratching his head in frustration, and Chloe was seeming pretty pouty, too—I was sure she looked disgusted under her mask.

Given the situation, I really didn’t think Raphael could’ve done anything about this. I mean, Jiwu’s barrier isolated us from the rest of the world, so we couldn’t talk to Ramiris. I think I could’ve telepathically communicated with Veldora, but I doubt I could’ve explained the situation to him with much accuracy. Besides, if you thought about how much work Raphael had to do there, it was just mind-boggling how much parallel processing it was up to. Granting Benimaru Absolute Severance, helping Chloe/Chronoa with Yog-Sothoth, maintaining my own Absolute Defense, analyzing Bernie’s and Jiwu’s abilities… The list goes on and on. Given all that, who among us could’ve predicted that a bunch of idiots would put Resurrection Bracelets on their ankles?

“Well, no helping that, I guess.”

“Indeed. Let’s just forget about it. I’ve already assessed their strengths, and I’m positive I would win a rematch. If someone like me challenges them, that might be a different story… But I’m sure we can find a way.”

That was Benimaru’s conclusion, so he and I both decided to drop the matter.

Anyway, Bernie and Jiwu were out of the picture. Not being able to off them for good was a blunder, but Benimaru, Chloe, and I promised each other we’d forget about it, so it didn’t really count, right? Masayuki and Jinrai looked pretty shocked about their friends’ betrayal, but I was sure they’d do their best to recover. I thought about this as I watched them trudge back to their jobs assuaging the vampires.

The war was still going on. I felt kinda bad for those two, but frankly, I didn’t have time to worry about them. So I decided to let Chloe take care of them, and then Benimaru and I went back to the Control Center. Now the labyrinth should be free of all hostile elements.

But just as I thought that the final ground battle was all that was left to handle, we discovered that a few people were in the room already.

“Oh! Rimuru! You sure gave me a scare, y’know! We fell out of contact!”

“Indeed you did. I was far from worried, of course, but I did want to complain to you about it a little. Ramiris insisted we come down here, too, so we hurried—I mean, we walked on over to check up on you.”

Ramiris looked concerned. Veldora was being pompous as ever. He was currently whining about how I stole his energy out of nowhere, but it was so obvious that he was seriously worried about me. He’s cute that way, isn’t he?

So, Raphael, can you at least ask for a bit of permission before borrowing Veldora’s power?

…? That is behind us now, so it is not a problem.

Behind us? You haven’t been using his energy on the sly for a while now, have you? If so, Veldora sure must be used to it—but either way, I’ve done him wrong. I’ll have to get him some snacks later, and maybe a few new manga volumes, too.

“Sorry I worried you guys. Still, Veldora, I can contact you from pretty much anywhere, so if I get in trouble, I’ll be counting on you.”

“You can, Master?”

“Oh! …Ah-hem! That’s why I told you not to worry!”

Ramiris was awestruck. Veldora, probably hiding his embarrassment, decided to act all high and mighty as he changed the subject.

“But enough about that. If you’re fine now, can you go listen to those guys for a bit?”

Following Veldora’s gaze, I found Treyni, Soei, and a suspicious-looking man tied up with rope. I noticed that the first two were there before now, but what was up with that other dude? Treyni was currently chugging some fruit juice, looking utterly exhausted but otherwise unhurt, so I let her be. Instead, I glanced toward Soei, hoping he’d clue me in.

“Well, once I reached the site Moss told me about, I found this man fighting Treyni. His name is Laplace, and he’s a nemesis of ours.”

So it was Laplace under that rope? He looked pretty beat up, but not dead, at least.

“Why is he still alive?” Benimaru asked coldly. He wasn’t even trying to hide his murderous rage, which was rare for him.

“I tried to kill him, but he kept insisting he had something important to talk to you about, Sir Rimuru.”

“That has to be a trap,” Benimaru replied, taking out his sword once more. The moment he did, the limp Laplace leaped up like a caterpillar. Pretty nimble move, as silly as it looked. I couldn’t help but let out a couple laughs.

“W-wait a minute, man! Stop laughing and keep your people away from me!”

“You’d better watch your tone…”

Now Soei was raging, too. But that was still nothing compared to Benimaru, who was moments away from cutting the guy in half. I stepped in to calm him down for the time being.

“Calm down, all right? We’re in the middle of a truce with Yuuki, remember? If you brought him all the way here, we could at least hear him out.”

Soei nodded at this. Being able to keep his moral compass straight despite his rage showed just how patient he could be. Benimaru, realizing he was wrong, put his sword away.

“So what’s your story?”

“Damn, you guys are super scary. That gal over there refuses to listen to me, and she’s gotten way stronger since last time, too. The other dude’s a little more sensible, but his eyes are just so cold, y’know? And that one—”

“Huh?”

Don’t start with that, Benimaru. You’re revealing too much of your old self there. Clearing my throat, I tried to steer us away from this gloomy atmosphere.

“So anyway, Yuuki asked me to give you a message!”

Laplace, reading the tea leaves correctly, signaled his appreciation to me as he began explaining why he was there. He could’ve just done that to begin with, I thought, but I lent him an ear anyway.

“…And that’s the long ’n’ short of it. So basically, you guys better keep an eye out for Bernie and Jiwu, got it?”

“…”

“…”

Benimaru and I looked at each other in silence.

You could’ve told me a little bit earlier, dude.

According to Laplace, Yuuki has a guy named Damrada working for him. He’s one of the head bosses of Cerberus, a secretive crime ring. After a tip from Gadora and a little investigation, it came out that Damrada was suspected of attempting to assassinate Gadora, although Yuuki hadn’t given him any such order. I say “suspected,” but it was almost certain, actually.

Having made that judgment, Yuuki reviewed Damrada’s past actions, and in the process, he discovered a few more suspicious things. This led him to believe that Masayuki’s party members, people arranged for him by Damrada, might have had some kind of ulterior motive. In a rush, he assigned Laplace—who was just back from another mission—to relay the message to me.

As Laplace’s story unfolded, Treyni began to look visibly paler over time. Now I knew full well why Laplace hadn’t told me the news earlier.

“Well, if that’s what the story is, you gotta give it to me sooner, all right?”

“I tried! I told her over and over again that it’s really important! But she was all ‘Ooh, I’d never trust you’ and all that! Never even gave me the time o’ day!”

“It’s—it’s because you’re so fishy, all right? And besides, I still bitterly recall the last time you escaped me, so I was determined not to make the same mistake again.”

“Well, you kinda used a little too much force, lady! I kept shouting at you about how this was work-related stuff, and I’m super serious about it, but it was all ‘Wah, wah, shut up, I don’t care what you say’! You didn’t listen to one word from me, did you?”

Seeing this ugly argument unfold before me answered all my questions.

“So you’ve been fighting this entire time?”

“Yeah! Like, eesh, cut me a break…”

Laplace looked seriously disgruntled. By this point, “this entire time” would’ve been a good ten days or so. I’d be a little sullen about it, too, I think.

“I— I’m so deeply sorry!!”

Realizing how badly she’d jumped to conclusions, Treyni apologized to me, her face bright red. But would any of us here blame her for it? If you asked any of us to trust Laplace a little bit more, we’d think you were out of your minds. I mean, he’s still acting all fishy. I don’t think you should judge a book by its cover, but he’s constantly up to one suspicious caper or another. You’d have serious problems if you ever trusted a villain like him.

So maybe she made an honest mistake, but I’d never blame this one on Treyni. Benimaru, inches away from lopping his head off a moment ago, looked incredibly uncomfortable, as did Soei. I’m rather surprised he put up with Laplace long enough to bring him here, actually.

“Well, what’s done is done. Let’s just stop worrying about it and let bygones be bygones, all right?”

It was in the past now, and I didn’t want to keep it on my mind. So let’s just talk our way out of this. I had a battlefield to focus on, and there was no telling what would happen up there until the end. With this in mind, we turned our attention to the big screen.

A visibly annoyed Caligulio was waiting for a report.

It had been two whole days since he dispatched a hundred of his best men and women into the labyrinth, and he was no longer hiding his frustration at the fact that he hadn’t heard from them. Well, not frustration, actually. He might’ve looked miffed on the outside, but on the inside, his heart was filled with anxiety.

He had decided to attack the labyrinth after being dazzled by visions of big money and tons of magic crystals. He still didn’t regret that. If they wanted to keep their backs protected, they couldn’t have simply ignored the demon lord’s domain. So Caligulio rejoiced as he saw all the treasure being taken out of the labyrinth, more than even he had imagined.

Looking back, however, it all seemed like the demon lord Rimuru’s trick. Caligulio realized that now, and he cursed his own cowardly ways—but at the same time, he began to fear that the demon lord would defeat him, and he’d have no way to block this.

“God dammit! Is there any report yet?!”

His staff couldn’t count the number of times he had bellowed that so far. Nobody had an answer for him, but now a murmur could be heard from outside the camp.

“What’s going on? What’s happening?!”

Caligulio’s question was answered by a private who came rushing in.

“Reporting, sir! We have just rendezvoused with troops from the Magitank Force!”

What? Caligulio thought. No matter how nimble and rugged those magitanks were, there was no way they wouldn’t hear any sounds from them before they arrived. There were no messages about this at all, so the state of their allied forces was still an enigma. Given all that, he had a bad feeling, and it was growing by the second.

And then his fears came true.

“We’re back, sir…”

The woman who entered Caligulio’s field tent was a fetching young lady who looked out of place on a battlefield. She was actually Misha the Lover, one of the three bosses of Cerberus; she was ordered by Yuuki to carry out a scheme to ensnare Caligulio, and so she was participating in this operation. She really was chief of staff for the Empire’s Armored Division, however, serving Caligulio with decent enough competence.

But she was assigned to the Magitank Force for this op, a move Caligulio made for her own safety. It wasn’t a deployment Misha was very happy with, given that her mission here was to monitor Caligulio’s movements. Unfortunately, she was in no position to protect it, so she pretended to be grateful for the favor as she kept reporting back to Yuuki. These reports, of course, included the crushing defeat of the Magitank Force, and after that took place, she carefully left the field, making sure no monsters found her, and regrouped with the main force there.

“Misha! You’re all right?”

“Yes, Sir Caligulio.”

Misha gave him a bewitching smile. Even with her stained, dirty uniform, her beauty hadn’t faded one bit. Seeing her was a relief, but Caligulio hadn’t forgotten about his duty.

“So what happened to the rest? How long will all of them rendezvous with the main force?”

He spoke quickly, peppering her with questions.

“Please, sir, just one minute. There’s no point in panicking now.”

“Huh? What do you mean—?”

“They’ve been wiped out.”

“Huh?”

“The Empire’s proud Magitank Force, along with a hundred of its elite airships, have all been reduced to ashes.”

The bewitching smile was still on her face.

“That can’t be… What the hell are you talking about?”

Caligulio smiled in disbelief. Misha remained silent—and her silence forced him to believe her.

“They’re really all wiped out?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So the only surviving members of the Armored Force are the people here right now?”

“That would be the case, sir.”

Hearing this, Caligulio hung his head. The rest of his staff followed suit, their faces pale. Their invasion was now a complete failure. Even if they managed to conquer the labyrinth here, countless thousands of soldiers had lost their lives, and there’d be no way to escape the blame for it. Emperor Ludora would never forgive Caligulio and his staff.

“What should we do?” he whispered. The staff had no answer—but then Misha spoke up.

“We should retreat.”

“What?”

“I had a quick look around earlier. It looks like you’re not having much luck in the labyrinth, either. I suppose labyrinths are meant to be explored, not invaded by vast armies.”

“Did that Yuuki boy say that?”

“Yes, sir. He said that only our elites should be unleashed into the maze.”

“Ridiculous! I’ve sent our damn elites in…!” a furious Caligulio shouted back at the calm, polite Misha.

He was right. In fact, just two days prior, he sent in the best forces he could think of, alongside all the elites in the Restructured Armor Corps, proud to be the Empire’s strongest force. There were over half a million people down there. They couldn’t have possibly hoped for anything better. All those elites would no doubt congregate in the labyrinth, and even now, they must have been marching for the bottom. Caligulio believed that. If he didn’t, his heart would’ve been gripped with fear.

Still Misha was relentless.

“But even after swallowing up the most elite members of our force, the labyrinth is alive and well. And yes, it’s possible that there’s still a battle going on inside…but we have no way of finding out what’s going on, and it’ll be difficult to send yet more reinforcements, won’t it?”

“Enough.”

“All you can do is wait for our allies to leave the labyrinth alive, right?”

“I said enough! Listen, Misha, you have nothing to worry about. The higher-ups have been given necklaces that can resurrect them. As long as you’re wearing it, if you die in the labyrinth, you’ll be resurrected outside of it. And the fact that nobody’s come out yet proves the invasion’s going just fine!”

Caligulio knew full well that this was a rather optimistic view. But as the general in charge of the full force, he had no choice but to resort to it right now. However, Misha’s pursuit didn’t end there. Unlike the other staff, Misha had enthralled Caligulio. Even if she riled him here, she was confident she’d be allowed to do whatever she wanted.

“But you haven’t confirmed that the prototype necklaces actually work yet, have you? Sir Yuuki said that if the bracelets were generated by someone’s special skill, it’d be impossible to make a copy of it.”

That silenced Caligulio. There was no way he could tell his troops to die for the sake of this experiment. Just like Misha said, he had been sending his comrades without having a firm idea if the necklaces worked. They were just meant as an insurance policy if something went awry, and Caligulio understood that. But Misha was right, and he was wrong.

You can’t lead an army division through strength alone. Strength is needed, yes, but nobody too incompetent to read the current situation correctly could ever hold that position for long. But Caligulio never believed there was such a thing as a structure that over five hundred thousand elite troops couldn’t conquer. This was a formidable force, one that could reduce multiple large cities to ashes. Even in the worst-case scenario, they should’ve been able to destroy the labyrinth and escape, he thought.

And that wasn’t all. Many people had already died, he knew. If he decided to abandon his fellow comrades inside the labyrinth, Caligulio’s name would be forever enshrined as the incompetent general who oversaw a historic defeat. He started this campaign with nine hundred thousand troops, and now it was down to below two hundred thousand. There was no way he could do something as terrifying as retreat like this.

It was only at this point that Caligulio realized he had thoroughly underestimated this demon lord. He only saw the Storm Dragon as a threat; to him, the demon lord Rimuru and his forces were nothing but an opponent to be overrun and crushed. He hadn’t spotted the enemy he was supposed to be fighting this whole time. It was a fatal blunder, but it was too early to give up. Hope in the form of Minitz was still there for him.

“Calm down. I trust Major General Minitz more than anybody else on the force, and he’s in the labyrinth now. I’m sure he’ll bring back some intelligence. We can wait for the results from him first—”

But Caligulio was unable to finish.

“No, you should withdraw immediately, sir.”

This unsolicited advice was offered by a man who had suddenly entered the tent.

“Who are you?!” one of the staffers demanded. Caligulio looked at the intruder, wondering what the guard sentry was up to. He appeared to be fine, but the blood on his uniform was troubling. Nobody in this tent had been involved in actual battle, so it was possible he was a survivor of another unit, or a—

“My name is Krishna, Imperial Guardian number seventeen and one of the force of one hundred who entered the labyrinth two days ago.”

Everyone present was astonished, Caligulio included.

“Y-you’re an Imperial Guardian?”

“Why is the emperor’s personal guard here?”

The staff were disturbed. But Caligulio lived up to his reputation, quickly regaining his composure.

“That’s not the question! Krishna, was it? Can you begin by telling us what’s going on?”

With a single shout, he calmed the situation down a notch. Krishna thanked him with a nod and hastily briefed the tent.

“The one thing I have to say is: That labyrinth’s no joke. I’m not sure this will mean anything to you, but Bazan, ranked thirty-fifth, and Reiha, ranked ninety-fourth, are dead. Major General Minitz died before my eyes, sir, and I don’t know for sure, but I think Colonel Kanzis is dead, too. There are no survivors left in the labyrinth right now; you can be assured of that!”

Everyone listened in stunned silence. Caligulio wanted to rant and rave about how much of a lie this was, but Krishna’s eyes were dead serious. His whole body indicated he was telling the truth. Besides, he was a familiar face to Caligulio; he remembered Krishna as one of the people he sent out two days ago.

So he was resurrected? Did he have a Resurrection Bracelet, then? A real one, not an imitation? Then it’s safe to assume it’s really him.

Caligulio tried to think calmly, despite the fact that he wanted to be furious.

Gadora had submitted two Resurrection Bracelets to the government. One was analyzed by their technical bureau, which helped them create replicas, while the other was presented to the emperor. Being loaned one of those replicas was probably what allowed Krishna to come back to life. It confirmed that Resurrection Bracelets actually worked—and also that their copies didn’t work at all.

In other words, every one of their men and women in the labyrinth had been wholly annihilated. Over five hundred soldiers, dead. The sheer enormity of that fact turned Caligulio pale.

But Krishna wasn’t done yet.

“Also, the one who killed me wasn’t the demon lord at all—or even one of the Big Four who serve him. It was a magic-born whose name I’ve never even heard of before. He was part of the Ten Dungeon Marvels, as he called it, but he was a level above anything I’ve ever seen.”

Anyone who was in the Marvels had fighting ability comparable to or higher than an Arch Demon. But even among all of them, the demon who called himself Zegion was on another dimension—enough so that Krishna saw full well how little chance he had to win.

“I’ll say this one more time—we have to retreat. There’s no shame in that. Please, you have to step up and make the decision that’ll save the troops we have left!”

Krishna’s ardor made the officers tense up. His words were undoubtedly true. Everybody’s gut feeling was telling them there was no time to lose.

“…Not the demon lord? They have Arch Demon–level monsters just bumping around in there? They’re that strong? How is some upstart demon lord capable of having so much power?!”

Caligulio lost his patience and began ranting. His staff officers took that cue to begin shouting as well.

“We have to retreat this instant! This isn’t only our fault. The IIB was negligent as well!”

“Exactly. We have to help the survivors escape before the demon lord Rimuru makes another move!”

Everybody was expressing their opinions now. Usually, they wasted hours arguing with each other, but on this occasion, they had unanimous agreement. Each of them instinctively knew they were in danger.

Finally, Misha spoke.

“I forgot to report this to you, sir, but it wasn’t the dragon Veldora who drove us to destruction. It was someone else’s nuclear magic that dealt the fatal blow. Twice, in fact. It was magic on a scale that could easily defeat any legion magic. The one who cast it is a threat, yes, but that’s not my point. The point is…”

Nobody needed to hear it. Everyone understood already. Veldora, the Storm Dragon, was still waiting for them ahead.

So Caligulio made his decision.

“Gather the troops! We’re changing course. For now, we have to turn around and go back to our nation!”

He called it a change of course and not a retreat mainly for his own sake. He knew it was just semantic nonsense, but if he didn’t phrase it that way, the anxiety was likely to crush him. No matter how foolish it sounded, he didn’t care, as long as it got them out of this place. His staff all agreed on this, and they were ready to carry out the order at once.

But the decision came too late. The situation was starting to evolve, soon to become a raging torrent that would sweep in and swallow them all up. The fate of the imperial army was already set in stone.

As if to cancel out Caligulio’s order, a low, clear voice echoed across the tent.

“I cannot have that. My boss says he will not allow you to retreat.”

The man put all the frenzied activity in this command tent to a halt. All eyes were on the tent entrance, where there stood a man in a foreign costume with a weapon called a katana at his waist. His white hair, speckled with gold, was pulled back and tied into a single knot, and he had a long white beard and a wrinkled face—but his sharp eyes and straight, clean posture made him seem ageless.

“Who are you?” Krishna asked, stepping forward.

“My pardons. My name is Agera, and I have been sent by my master, Lady Carrera, as her messenger.”

This was Agera. Rimuru, being the peace-loving demon lord he was, had decided to send out an envoy to hopefully accept the enemy’s surrender. Few expected the Empire to offer it—in fact, more of them were saddened to potentially lose the opportunity to kick some imperial ass. But Agera, one of the few among them with actual common sense, insisted that this was the true way of a warrior, so Geld granted his permission for it. Momiji had no objections, either, and so he was ordered to act as military envoy.

This was also, however, meant to help buy time for the Tempest army to get ready. Whether the imperial forces surrendered or made a last-ditch stand, they didn’t care much—but running away was not allowed. Everybody who participated in this invasion must be punished—that was Rimuru’s decision. Agera respected it, and so he had no intention of letting Caligulio off the hook here.

One of the staff officers spoke up to him.

“A messenger? By your ‘boss,’ do you mean Rimuru?”

Agera’s expression turned grim for a moment.

“How dare you refer to my stately leader strictly by his given name. Such arrogance! I hope you will reflect on that affront in the afterlife.”

The moment he stopped speaking, the head of the staff officer who asked the question fell to the ground. No one present realized for a moment that Agera had drawn his sword. Even Krishna, who was closest to him, couldn’t react in any way.

With his single sword, Agera now dominated the scene. As everyone fell silent, he began to list his demands in a clear voice.

“Now that it seems everyone is ready to listen to me, I will give our terms. Disarm yourselves immediately and surrender. If you do, you will be kept alive, I assure you, as our slave. If you choose to defy us, that is fine as well—we will decide your fates with our valor instead. I will wait one hour. If you wish to surrender, you may do so at any time before then.”

With that, Agera turned away.

Caligulio’s brain was working hard, trying to figure out the best plan of action. Hoping for a Hail Mary, he decided to negotiate with Agera.

“Wait! Er, I mean, excuse me. I’d like you to wait a moment.”

“Yes?” Agera stopped and looked back at Caligulio.

“Sorry. My name is Caligulio. I am the leader of this army and chief of this operation.”

“Ah. And what do you want?”

Agera’s mission here was to buy time, so he was in no hurry to go back. He wasn’t particularly interested in hearing Caligulio out, but he decided to anyway. Seeing this reaction, the commander put all his hope in reasoning with him.

“Sir Agera, you said earlier that you’d accept us as slaves if we surrendered, but could you perhaps reconsider those terms? The idea of slavery is simply too cruel to bear. I’m afraid I cannot accept that condition.”

The sudden plea startled his staff officers. But no one voiced any objection. Everyone understood how weak their position was, and everyone knew this negotiation was their best hope for the future.

Taking advantage of Agera’s silence, Caligulio continued his one-sided conversation.

“You can obtain victory for yourself without having to fight us when we’re at our most ferocious. Instead of making us slaves, would you be able to let us go for now? We’ll pay you reparations, of course, and we promise to refrain from any further invasion. No, actually, more than that! I would like to return to my homeland and appeal to the emperor to form an alliance with your nation! If you and the Empire join forces, it’d be a trivial matter to rule the world. I’m sure it’d put your leader in an advantageous position over the other demon lords, and I don’t think this is a bad offer from the demon lord Rimuru as well. Believe me, we will never forget a favor. What do you think? Could you perhaps allow us an audience with His Majesty the demon lord Rimuru?”

Caligulio was desperate. Looking at how things were right now, the invasion of Dwargon and the labyrinth were both abject failures. Everybody involved with both operations was dead. The only survivors were the less than two hundred thousand people present here. They had blown this invasion royally, no matter how you looked at it—even Caligulio had no choice but to admit that. He admitted it, and he wanted to make sure that those who were still alive could return home safely. It was the only way he could take responsibility for this now.

After having his say, Caligulio waited for Agera’s response. He knew this offer was a little convenient for his side, but it didn’t mean they had zero chance. Their numbers might be significantly culled from before, but a little under two hundred thousand is still a very large army. They couldn’t have been any smaller than the demon lord’s forces, and having them all fighting for their lives in a frenzy couldn’t have been what the demon lord Rimuru wanted. And unlike the labyrinth, on the ground, you couldn’t come back to life if you died.

That’s why this proposal, which granted them a complete victory, really should have been worthy of their consideration. At the very least, it wasn’t the kind of offer Agera could respond to right now. It’d definitely have to be conveyed to the demon lord Rimuru, and if he could be brought into the loop, that’s when the real work would begin. Maybe he wouldn’t let everyone off the hook, but at least some of their forces might have a chance to escape.

Including Caligulio, he hoped.

If they want to make slaves of us, they’re probably not intent on taking our lives. It’s rare to see such leniency from a demon lord, but maybe that’ll help us this time. We could always buy back the rank-and-file soldiers later. I’ll need to return home and inform His Majesty about this.

Caligulio wanted to save his own life… But more than that, he wanted to save as many soldiers as possible. That, and he wanted to bring accurate intelligence back to the emperor. Those were his true intentions, deep down.

He had grossly underestimated the enemy’s war power, and it led to defeat this time, but in a sense, it was totally unavoidable. With their gigantic forces, he was positive they could have seized Dwargon, Tempest, and the Western Nations, even if they had to fight all three at once. He was absolutely sure of his victory, and this was the result.

It was impossible to imagine a story as ridiculous as the demon lord Rimuru having not just one but several Disaster-grade monsters serving him. Caligulio’s downfall might be inevitable after this fiasco, but any further sacrifices could very well destroy the entire framework of the Empire. Better to retreat, then, and bet on their future reconstruction—even if it meant abandoning his pride. Caligulio may have been greedy, but he wasn’t incompetent, and that’s why he offered this proposal.

If the demon lord Rimuru wants me alive, then so be it. I’m sure somebody will bring the required intelligence back to Emperor Ludora. And once they do, this defeat will finally take on meaning…

Caligulio was prepared to sacrifice himself for this negotiation. But it was all too late.

“Do you think you are in a position to state your conditions at this point? The moment you rejected Lady Testarossa’s mercy, your fates were all sealed. Your choice is to resist or obey. Take your pick.”

That was Agera’s reply. And with nobody else able to move, he leisurely took his leave of the tent—but not before adding one more thing:

“And don’t think about running away.”

“What’ll we do?” Misha asked Caligulio, who was standing there stunned.

After a moment of silence:

“…We have no choice but to fight. All our lives belong to the emperor. Perhaps we would survive longer as slaves, but we could hardly face His Majesty if we have to accept such humiliation!”

It was with a quiet determination that he made the decision.

“But we have no magitanks and no magic cancelers. It’s going to be a tough fight, don’t you think?”

“I don’t care. Survival’s no longer the goal. Our mission is to bring back all this information to the emperor. All of you have to escape this, no matter how many soldiers have to be sacrificed.”

“…?! P-please, sir, wait a minute!”

“Wh-what do you intend to do, then?”

“Isn’t it obvious? We’ll show these monsters our pride as imperial soldiers!”

The desperation finally made Caligulio abandon his selfishness. Here and now, he regained his pride as a pure, noble soldier. Seeing him change his stripes, his lieutenants and staff officers followed suit.

“Nobody would be shameless enough to leave you alone and run, sir.”

“That’s right. Nothing like a little last-ditch effort for some excitement, eh?”

“We’re not guaranteed to lose yet! Now’s when the Armored Division will show its true colors!”

They all raised their spirits, boosting their morale as they did. Misha alone heaved a sigh.

“In that case, I’m going to run away. I’m not admirable enough of a woman to go along with all of your death wishes.”

She waved her hands in the air as she did, all but relishing playing the villain. It made Caligulio smile bitterly.

“Thank you. I know you have links to that kid Yuuki. Tell the Empire just how incompetent I was. Don’t leave out a single detail.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, smiling back. Nobody was going to stop Misha. Everyone knew that getting out of there was never going to be easy for her.

“Let me appoint you guards—”

“We’ll take that role, if we could.”

Before Caligulio could finish, two figures appeared in the tent. They were Bernie and Jiwu, freshly escaped from the labyrinth.

“Single Digits…!” Krishna shouted.

“Oh, Krishna? Good to see you again. Staying here’s just gonna get you killed, you know. You wanna join us?” Bernie asked.

Everyone fell silent. A Single Digit, one of the strongest forces in the Empire, was predicting defeat for them. It spoke volumes about the severity of the battle that lay ahead.

“…No. I will stay with Lord Caligulio.”

“Oh, no? Well, I’ll tell His Majesty everything you did, then. You will die a glorious death in battle, not like some gutter rat. Give it all you’ve got. It’s bound to be worth doing.”

Bernie’s words echoed heavily across the tent. Jiwu silently agreed with him. Then, taking Misha along, they quickly withdrew from the scene.

Those who remained were prepared to die.

“There’s no need to stick to that envoy’s time limit. We’ll strike them with maximum force before the enemy’s ready!”

Caligulio’s order reached all the way down to the bottom rungs in an instant. Everyone went on the move, hurrying along, ready to give their all in the final battle.

“…Ah. They’ve decided to fight, then?”

Geld shot a respectful glance at the imperial troops who had started moving en masse. Neither he nor anyone else on his side were certain of their victory yet—on the contrary, they were at an overwhelming numerical disadvantage. Letting their guard down was out of the question. Letting anyone lose their lives against this wounded tiger was unthinkable.

The role of Geld’s Second Corps was defense. They’d take the front line and protect their firepower in the rear—that should have been enough to achieve victory. The dwarves excelled in this tactic, building a wall of forces and unleashing powerful offensive magic from beyond it. It was simple, straightforward, and perfectly suited for Geld’s team.

The Fourth Corps would be in charge of providing that firepower, and right now it was led by Momiji from the tengu.

“Victory for our master!!”

Already she was delivering a charming little pep talk to her forces. Taking this side approach in her quest for Benimaru was quite a bold strategy. In time, she thought, it’d help break the ice between them—and before he knew it, they’d be an established couple. Benimaru may very well have already lost to Momiji at the strategy phase, Geld thought—but then, maybe Benimaru didn’t mind so much. If he did, he would have done something about it long ago, or else he wouldn’t be much of a Born Leader after all.

The problem, Geld supposed, was that Benimaru had too many girls with a thing for him. Everyone knew about Alvis, of course. The competition between her and Momiji was so fierce that it had become pretty notorious among Rimuru’s staff. There was really no telling at this point if Momiji would emerge as the winner, in the end. And now Alvis was rushing in to reinforce the Tempest army, which undoubtedly left Geld at a loss over who to root for. I better keep my nose out of this, he thought. Inevitably, someone’s going to end up disappointed, so…

It was very non-warrior-like of him, but either way, he took his mind off the subject and checked again for any flaws in his forces. The rear guard was fully prepared to support the rest of the group, and their methods of attack were all at the ready. Momiji was leading the main force, with Shion commanding her own unit and Alvis overseeing the reinforcements. Coordination between them wouldn’t be a problem—not with Benimaru around.

As long as I do my part, we won’t lose.

Geld’s defense was truly ironclad. The elites of the Yellow and Orange Numbers totaled seventeen thousand in all, and these fighters were all completely protected by Geld’s unique skill Protector. On top of that, Kurobe’s and Garm’s armor had beefed up their defenses to the point that not even cannonballs could fell them.

As if that wasn’t enough, Gourmet—Geld’s other unique skill—had a Stomach that was accessible by the entire armed force. If anyone got hurt, they could be healed magically through that via the support troops to the rear, and if someone was seriously messed up, they had instant access to as much healing potion as needed. A large supply was always kept in Geld’s Stomach, in case of emergency—not just for this war, but at all times. Rimuru kept it fully stocked for just that purpose. This potion wouldn’t go bad or anything inside the Stomach, either, and so the army had permission from Rimuru to deplete the stockpile as much as needed today.

From the standpoint of logistics, a unit that could replenish its supplies on the spot without having to move an inch would put any commander’s mind at ease. In a way, the monster’s own bodies were building a stout barrier for them all.

There’s no way they could lose, Geld thought. But after that…

He looked at the sky. There, he saw the figure of an officer named Carrera who was assigned to his unit.

If she’s got enough power to make Sir Rimuru count on her, I’m sure gonna be looking forward to this.

The final battle was almost here. Geld, nearly beside himself with excitement, continued to quietly wait for the opening bell.

Carrera was idly floating in the sky, within Geld’s line of sight. She had been assigned to the Second Army Corps with her two companions, but they were operating separately for now. Rimuru had given her the honor of being on the vanguard force, and the warrior Geld had graciously accepted the trio, advising them to act as they pleased. He seemed like a very nice person, and Carrera felt they’d be getting along excellently before long.

Rimuru had given Carrera a secret order to protect Geld as well. She didn’t know for sure, but she guessed that Testarossa and Ultima received similar orders. If anyone on the Empire side was too much for his chief officials to deal with, the demons would keep those foes occupied and buy time for their side—that was their real mission.

That wasn’t the case now, however. Now that they were in a lead position among the forces, there was no reason for the three of them to stay together. In fact, given the wall Geld and his forces had already built up, Carrera and her friends had nothing to do, really.

For now, the first priority on Carrera’s mind was figuring out how to best annihilate the enemy. So there she was, in the sky, just about to unleash a nuclear magic spell.

“Whoaaa, wait a second! Lady Carrera, what did you just try to do?”

Agera, just back from his envoy errand, hurriedly came up to stop her. The hard-nosed old veteran Caligulio saw was nowhere to be seen—in front of Carrera, Agera was nothing but a hapless, long-suffering servant. He had rushed back here because he had a premonition that something bad was about to happen, and it turned out he was right. The way he could detect subtle signals predicting Carrera’s actions showed how developed his keen intuition had become over many years of working for her.

“Oh, you’re back, Agera? You know, I’ve been thinking about a few different things, but I honestly think I need some practice. I don’t want to mess up when it’s time to really fight!”

She wanted to fire that off while nobody was around to nitpick at her about it, but being interrupted didn’t seem to bother her at all. It was clear evidence that this behavior was pretty much par for the course.

“Practice, you say?”

“Right, yeah. I’m just triggering a nuclear explosion in the sky, so it’ll look kind of like a big firework, y’know? There might be some residual heat that burns up the ground a little, but no biggie! What do you think? That won’t be a problem, will it?”

“It’s excellent, my lady! A perfect idea! Well done, as always!”

The girl who accompanied the smug Carrera was now giving her effusive praise. This was Esprit, a demon on roughly the same social caste as Agera. She looked like a cute little girl, but one with a terrifying personality—in fact, it’d be no exaggeration to say she was the worst of Carrera’s underlings. But she had the power to back it up, so even Agera had trouble dealing with her. Typically, as servants, he and Esprit would be sharing in the same hardships, but Esprit indulged all Carrera’s impulses so much that she wasn’t much of a bulwark at all. Never once had he ever tried to admonish her; whatever Carrera did was fine with her. Esprit left all the difficult, awkward lecturing to Agera while continuing to be Carrera’s top bandwagoner. This meant that Agera did all the labor among them, which made for a less than healthy working relationship.

To him, Testarossa (a sensible girl who was pure evil) and Ultima (who was in constant pursuit of further brutality) were just as bad as Carrera. But simply being evil wasn’t the problem. Even Carrera, who always did everything turned up to eleven without worrying about the collateral damage, was a troublesome lord to serve in Agera’s eyes. Spreading mayhem, then saying “Oops, that kinda caused a lot of damage!” afterward, didn’t strike him as funny at all. He just couldn’t bring himself to laugh along with her.

On the other hand, his colleague Esprit didn’t mind Carrera at all, thanks to having such similar personalities. Agera envied her for that.

“It’s not excellent at all, you! Keep your mouth shut!”

The long-suffering Agera yelled at the irresponsible Esprit about it. Then he turned to Carrera and began to explain matters carefully, as if talking to a child.

“…Listen, Lady Carrera. I just visited the enemy camp as an envoy, right?”

“Right, yeah.”

“And it’s a rule on the battlefield that you’re not supposed to make any moves until the time comes.”

“What? It’s just practice!”

“Practice or not, you still can’t do it!”

Agera’s boss Carrera was like a runaway train with no brakes. Stopping her required a mammoth effort. Her power was just so overwhelming that it made her tough to control. She had been making a regular habit of agitating the demon lord Leon on a daily basis, shooting nuclear magic off to provoke him. It didn’t turn into a war thanks to Leon being coolheaded, but if it was any other demon lord, the fallout would’ve been massive.

But whenever Carrera had her fill, she’d just go back to her home in the demon realm. She was looking for momentary kicks, so she never placed much importance on winning or losing fights. Even if she ever lost, she would’ve just disappeared from the scene with a big smile on her face. She wouldn’t think she’d lost, so it wouldn’t damage her or make her feel any remorse. That’s who she was, and before now, Agera was at a loss to figure out how to teach her some common sense.

Not now, however.

Up to this point, there was no one who could give orders to Agera and his ruling-class companions, the top-ranking demons of the realm and the most powerful as well. That was doubly true for Carrera, who could make even those ruling classes do her bidding—even offering your opinion to her was done at your own risk. Carrera only allowed Agera to serve her without being rubbed out of existence because she liked him.

Now, though, Carrera herself was not serving the demon lord Rimuru. Agera believed that, in order to win Rimuru’s favor, Carrera had best start to learn a little patience—that, and using her head instead of acting on impulses. To achieve this, he needed his boss Carrera to learn a little common sense. If Carrera could learn and master Tempest’s assorted legal rules and regulations, Agera thought, then he really hoped she could act more considerate in her day-to-day life, too.

Then maybe my hardships would be eased a little…

With that modest wish in his heart, Agera made a daily effort to offer Carrera the frank advice she needed. He was always on the lookout for a good opportunity to lecture her, and while it might look like an old man berating his granddaughter, he didn’t care about that. Now, he thought, was his chance. He needed to be understandable and concise—tough when dealing with Carrera, who was easily bored and never listened for very long to others.

But then, as Agera earnestly explained the customs of war to Carrera…the imperial army suddenly went on the move.

“Hey, Agera, you gave them a lot more time than that, didn’t you?”

“I did, yes…”

“Okay, so while I was listening to all your boring trivia, the Empire’s gotten a leg up on us?”

This unnerved Agera for two reasons. Carrera didn’t understand the concept of “going easy” at all, but get her mad, and her outbursts usually led to massive meltdowns. If the brunt of that anger was pointed at Agera, he’d have to give up on living. But he was also mad at the Empire for ruining this lesson on the rules of warfare he was giving her. This reckless action on their part—akin to a betrayal—made him angry for the first time in quite a while.

“Lady Carrera! Leave that old man alone and let’s teach a lesson to those idiots who can’t even keep a promise!”

Esprit flashed a look at Agera that screamed “I hope you’re happy now, asshole!” then pointed toward the Empire to draw Carrera’s attention. Geld and his army were going into formation, and headed their way were nearly twenty thousand troops marching in an orderly fashion. From the air, the soldiers who seemed to fill Carrera’s entire field of vision looked like a fat hog ready for the dinner table.

She nodded, smiling.

“That sounds good! You won’t stop me, of course—right, Agera?”

The terrifying tone of the question indicated that any attempt to stop her would result in murder. But Agera’s reaction wasn’t what she expected.

“Yes… I did tell them to wait an hour, but I did not say they couldn’t attack in the meantime. I suppose I am to blame for this misunderstanding.”

“So what’ll we do?”

“Well, if someone is that eager to die, it’s the duty of any warrior to intercede on their part. No need to go easy. I think you’re quite safe doing whatever you like.”

Agera was fully ready for this. He might’ve been a gentle, decidedly un-demonic demon, but anyone who mocked his master or broke their promises to him would face his almighty rage.

“Great. This is so thrilling! See, that’s why I love you so much.”

He’d never stop Carrera now. Realizing this, she let out a gleeful laugh.

“Okay, let’s get started. Let’s teach them what happens when they try meddling with us!”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Coming right up!”

And so the battle broke out. And the Empire had no idea that their own actions were akin to signing their own death warrants.

“All right… How about a rain of nuclear spells for starters?”

“Oooh, I like that! It’s like planting tulip bulbs in the ground, except they’re mushroom clouds!”

Sometimes, when you offend someone who’s usually mild-mannered, they can react with shockingly severe retribution. The Empire was about to find this out the hard way.

“No, no, that’s still too little. Lady Carrera, remember what our master told us, please. He told you he wanted something massive that’d scare the Empire out of their wits.”

“…Mmm?”

“Wouldn’t combining our full forces together be the best way to adhere to our master’s wishes?”

Carrera’s eyes opened wide. It made sense to her. Agera’s words were indeed correct—and now Agera himself, usually busy snipping at Carrera to keep her from running wild, was telling her not to hold back. It was a deeply moving experience for her.

“Oh, Agera, you finally understand! And you’re right. I think I’ve been setting my own limits too much lately. Your words just woke me up! …Right! Let’s show them what we’ve got! I have a big spell I’ve never quite pulled off before, but it’s time to debut it to the world!”

Carrera was motivated. Motivated—and going all out like never before. Agera, regaining his composure, began to say “Uh-oh” to himself, but it was too late for that now. She was already focusing on the spell she was casting. Esprit was giving him a “Now what?” look, but at this point, all he could do was wait and see what happened. If his boss went out of control and got angry at him later, well, he could think about that when the time came.

With that in mind, Agera decided to sit back and enjoy this. Even he was a demon, after all.

In the end, the imperial army that had begun to march ahead was destroyed by an attack from above.

They had multiple legion magic–driven barriers over them, further magic defenses provided by state-of-the-art equipment, a force populated by soldiers who all had high magic resistance of their own, and all manner of holy blessings applied to them. And all those measures were utterly powerless in the face of the large-scale extinction magic Carrera unleashed.

This was Gravity Collapse, a type of nuclear magic. Boasting the most force among all the spells in its family, Gravity Collapse required both precise magic manipulation and an enormous amount of magicule energy. If the abyss core at its foundation was left unattended, it’d balloon in size until it triggered a Nuclear Flame—but in the forbidden Gravity Collapse spell, it was instead suppressed and compressed to create a super-gravitational field—in laypeople’s terms, an artificial black hole. This supercharged local gravitational field, created by the adverse reaction from the planet’s own magnetic fields, then crushed anyone caught inside into the size of a pebble.

Needless to say, the effect on the imperial force was pretty tragic. With no advance warning, gravity suddenly began to flatten them; the troops were all pulverized, unable to bear even their own weight. Marching on open terrain proved to be their downfall; there was no way to escape the eyes of the demon. Over four-fifths of the force of nearly two hundred thousand was trapped within the magic’s sphere of influence.

They were all currently on the ground, unable to move, but the real essence of this spell was just beginning. A storm of magical force began to blow upon them, affecting only the precisely defined area Carrera designated. It was an inverted storm, like nothing that anyone had ever seen.

The hyper-compressed space soon reached its breaking point, and in another moment, all its energy was focused on a single dot in space. Then it imploded—and the planet was greeted with an extremely miniature version of a supernova. A jet-black pillar connected the surface to the heavens—the earth, sand, and dust that had been swept up to the stratosphere by the huge explosion, as if Carrera just opened the manhole to hell.

It was no type of magic that should ever be used while standing atop a planet. If she hadn’t taken the time to define a precise range for it, the entire Forest of Jura would’ve become a charred wasteland. And nobody in the imperial army ever had a chance of being resistant to it. The nuclear magic Gravity Collapse is an all-attribute attack, encompassing all magical and physical phenomena. Thus, most troops caught inside were smashed into dust before even realizing what had happened.

Carrera was satisfied with this blast. What she wasn’t so satisfied with was Agera, who was already back to his usual habits. He was the one who encouraged her to do it; where did he get off, trying to complain about it now?

Still, Agera was expecting nothing quite on this scale. He did think it could wind up being trouble, yes, but not even he realized that Carrera had so much power. But dwelling on it at this point was a waste of time. The long-suffering Agera’s troubles had only just begun.

Geld smiled. This was awesome. Yes, he figured she’d be pretty strong, but Carrera’s might was simply unimaginable.

“Sure didn’t expect her to pick off that many with just one blow. Now none of us will have a chance to show our stuff.”

He sounded a touch sullen about it, but Geld didn’t really mean what he said. The imperial army was in a state of chaos, but there were still over twenty thousand survivors, and they were all in a mad rush for Geld’s army, trying desperately to escape the carnage. They were no longer heavily outnumbered, but now wasn’t the time to let their guard down. Geld understood that well enough. After witnessing the horrors of death firsthand, all those troops were doubtlessly going to fight within an inch of their lives. The pressure they’d lay on should never have been taken lightly.

But Geld was unfazed. And perhaps thanks to their commander’s calm demeanor, all Geld’s forces, right down to the lowliest buck private, were at attention and sizing up the enemy.

“Shields up!”

Once the enemy was within spitting distance, Geld issued the solemn order. The Second Corps responded in perfectly choreographed order, and in the next moment, they became a wall that would allow nobody through.

The fierce clash of army against the army came the next instant—but despite that, Geld’s forces didn’t retreat a single step backward as they engaged with the Empire. Even after that, Geld’s wall didn’t break down at any point along the line as it pushed the imperials back.

That was how the final battle began. Now it was Shion’s turn to make a move.

“Let’s charge them. I want to slaughter every last one of Sir Rimuru’s foes!!”

Shion’s elite guard, led by Team Reborn, roared their approval. At once, a good ten thousand magic-born of all shapes and sizes began to act on their own discretion. These were Shion’s most die-hard fans, trained by the woman herself, and being commanded by Team Reborn allowed them to largely do as they pleased.

They were a sizable army, and in a fight, they were good enough to turn heads. Shion’s extra skill Mortal Fear united them with Team Reborn, making these ten thousand magic-born a legion of marauding knights of terror as they slammed into the Empire. Mortal Fear fanned the enemy’s fears, sapping them of their will to fight. The effects were tremendous. The enemy, no longer able to tap into their full abilities, left themselves exposed, open, and ready for Team Reborn to trample all over them.

Wearing matching sets of bluish-purple armor forged by Garm, Shion’s forces rampaged across the battlefield. To the imperial army, the mere sight was nightmarish—but three giants among them, each exuding a ridiculous large aura of dark energy, caught most of their attention. Their own aura had assimilated with Shion’s Mortal Fear, turning them into living incarnations of violence. They were, of course, the three sons of the demon lord Daggrull.

But the rest of the guard wasn’t about to be undone. Taking full advantage of their resistance to death, Team Reborn focused on keeping the enemy’s attention. As they did, the other magic-born would dispatch the exposed foes—that was the basic strategy, and it let them steadily cut their numbers without taking any damage.

Gobzo was among them.

“Ooh, my head’s gettin’ itchy…”

Despite his casual observation, there was a stab wound in his head from when someone stuck a sword in it. The way it closed up, bit by bit, was gruesome to see if you weren’t used to it.

“Way to keep at it, Gobzo.”

“Yeah, if I took that blow, it would’ve killed me, huh?”

Gobzo had grown a lot—enough that his troops were truly impressed with him.

In the meantime, three cyclones began to form on the battlefield, one of Daggrull’s sons in the eye of each one. It was from those landmarks that the Empire’s left wing began collapsing.

Members of Shion’s elite guard weren’t about to miss that chance, and now the imperials were being pushed back at breakneck speed. Even the Empire’s troops, desperate and running on pure adrenaline, were no match for them. The two sides were more or less evenly matched in terms of individual combat ability—but one side was far better trained than the other, and in terms of skill level, the elite guard had a clear upper hand.

What kind of training did it take to make this happen? Somewhere along the line, Shion’s troops had transformed into an amazingly well-honed, specialized combat force.

As Shion was making a name for herself on the right wing, the imperial army was facing even more trouble on its own right side.

“N-no! Why are they here—? Urgh!”

“The Beast Master’s Warrior Alliance?!”

“No, I don’t wanna die— Grnnh!”

The Beast Master’s Warrior Alliance troops were serving as reinforcements, alongside the other magic-born who served Carillon. They all owed Rimuru a great favor, and now they were exercising their full powers to pay it back.

“That’s one hell of a monster.”

“It is.”

Zol, the elephant beastman, wholeheartedly agreed with Alvis’s muttered remark. A magic spell like none they had seen or heard of before was deploying before their eyes. An ominous pillar, connecting heaven and earth, had just reduced more than a hundred thousand imperial troops to dust. Even now, its violent fury was battering the landscape, never diminishing.

With that blow, victory was now assured. The only remaining question was whether the enemy had any true champions left hiding in their ranks. They wanted to know, and that was why they refused to let the enemy escape in this fight. Alvis, fully aware of how openhearted and generous Rimuru could usually be, was honestly shocked at how thorough they were with this policy—but at the same time, she believed this was how a demon lord should act.

“Well, we rolled in with twenty thousand troops, and it looks like they’re overwhelming them anyway. We can’t exactly call it paying him back if it’s going to be like this,” said Alvis.

“Ah, as if we could ever repay him in any true sense.”

“True enough. Well, we shouldn’t sadden Sir Rimuru, at least. Dying here is out of the question. Do everything in your power to ensure nobody’s hurt.”

“You heard him, everyone. Take your pride serving the Beast Master and do everything you can until the bitter end!”

The Beast Master’s Warrior Alliance answered Zol’s roar with one of their own. Not a moment later, the beastfolk began their march on the imperial army’s right flank.

By this point, the trend was abundantly clear. Magic was rampaging across the rear, and they were being overrun on their left and right sides. The imperial army had little option left, apart from waiting for their foes to surround and exterminate them.

Momiji eyed the situation, her eyes cold. Her head was calm, but her heart was burning fiercely.

“It’s about time now. Allow me to ignite flames of compassion to relieve our enemies from their suffering.”

With that whisper, she sent a signal to Gobwa. The moment she did, the Fourth Army Corps breathed in unison, summoning their mystic force. The order cascaded across Team Kurenai via Gobwa’s Thought Communication—and as if in response, the mystic force created by everyone streamed across the army, harmonized in beautiful fashion. It was Momiji’s job to give all this power a conduit.

“Are you sure this will work?” a slightly worried-looking Gobwa asked.

Momiji laughed the idea off. “If I’m to be Sir Benimaru’s wife, how could I not be capable of this much?”

There was an unshakable confidence in her attitude. Her plan, in essence, was to gather this mystic force into a single presence, then lob it straight at the enemy army. It was a simple, unadorned strategy, but if she failed to unify that force correctly, it might trigger an unintended explosion that could damage Geld’s force on the front line. Gobwa’s unease was natural, but in the face of Momiji’s confidence, she commented on it no further. Momiji had been entrusted with this army as Benimaru’s substitute, and to doubt her would be the same as doubting Benimaru.

“All right. I’ll leave that to you, then. Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes. This won’t be as powerful as the vicious magic Carrera cast, but it should be enough for the remaining forces. I’m going to finish this with one blow.”

Then Momiji’s once-in-a-lifetime mystic spell made its debut.

“Let us bloom a red lotus that softly, gently envelops our enemy. Mystic Crimson Heaven!”

It was a red flower blooming in the sky. Its first objective was to rapidly burn through oxygen, draining it from the air at ground level and leaving the enemy incapacitated. The second objective was to rain down the flames of compassion, its temperature high enough to render targets unconscious before it could inflict pain. The third objective was to ferret out the strongest among their forces. If anyone could withstand this attack, they’d have been classified as strong, naturally, making this mystic art a great way to weed out the time wasters.

So the blooming flower fell upon the battlefield—and at the end of it, nobody was left alive.

“Oh? Well, that’s a letdown.”

“It was to be expected, perhaps. The last group to enter the labyrinth was far more powerful than any before it. They might have been the best elites the Empire had to offer.”

“Seems like it. Now all we have left is the enemy’s command HQ.”

“I’m sure that’s been taken care of by now. Besides…”

“Oh, right. Carrera’s servant was heading over there, wasn’t he? And I’m certain nobody at the HQ could be a match for him.”

Caligulio had received a stream of desperate reports. He really didn’t need them. The catastrophe was happening right before his eyes, and the only silver lining was that, since it happened so fast, they were able to die without feeling any fear or regret. Meanwhile, the survivors of that fearsome magic had fled back to the main camp with terror in their eyes. Having experienced the soul-crushing horror firsthand, they lost all trust in the Empire, cursing their own foolishness. There was no time for fancy speeches as the staff officers shouted for retreat—but at this point, survival was impossible.

How did this happen? Should I have chosen enslavement instead? No— Where did I even go wrong in the first place?

He tried his hardest to cease his looping thoughts but failed. Once again, he looked out at the desperate battlefield, considering whatever possible strategies he could take by now. There was nothing—no saving grace that he could ever come up with at this moment.

And more to the point…

“No… What’s that? What is thaaat?!”

Caligulio was tossed into a crucible of fear and confusion. Magic that heinous was beyond what he was capable of understanding. How could you take tens of thousands of soldiers protected by layer and layer of anti-magic resistance and kill them all like you’d squash an anthill? Nearly two hundred thousand troops were utterly destroyed with just one blow, and it’d only be a matter of time before the rest were wiped out.

“M-maybe…”

“Maybe what?!”

“It… It’s still a theoretical magic spell, but I know about one that interacts with the gravity of the planet. It’s likely the most devastating magic in the nuclear family, but it requires an enormous amount of energy to activate, and every step requires exacting control…”

“…Gadora told me about it once. Gravity Collapse, right?”

Yes, Caligulio had heard about it. It was a spell that was still under research, merely a theory at this point in time. No example of it had ever been observed before, and even with otherworldly knowledge, research was at a standstill even in the theoretical phase. This tactical-level magic had the power to annihilate entire nations, not just battlefields. But as far as Caligulio knew, they had concluded that it’d be impossible to ever conjure it in real life.

But here it was. Executed in perfect fashion—by a single monster.

Now the term demon lord struck Caligulio’s brain with a palpable sense of fear. Have we meddled with someone who we never should have meddled with? he asked himself.

“I admire your knowledge, sir.”

The matter-of-fact tone of one of his staff officers brought him back to reality.

“But it’s theoretical!” he shouted back in frustration. “We were boasting about how we could slaughter Veldora if we made it work!”

“Indeed, sir. That’s how powerful that magic is. It’s practically limitless.”

At some point, the staff officers had polarized into two separate camps.

“It was from…from a monster? Just one of them could perform a magic that massive…?”

Some were in a state of panic…

“Astounding. Ah-ha-ha-ha! I’ll write a research paper on this when I get home! Now we, too, can get our hands on that spell!”

…and some were babbling at each other like madmen. One side had lost the will to fight; the other had lost their grip on reality.

At this point, the Empire’s command HQ was no longer functional. Nothing in the world could be done in the midst of these horrifying circumstances. But nonetheless, Caligulio was in command. He was responsible for the lives of what soldiers he had left. Throwing in the towel was the one thing he could never do…but the situation was no longer conducive to ordering a retreat. Counting the crazed troops who fled the front lines, there were less than two thousand men and women left in the main camp. They were chaotic, disorderly, and even if they somehow made it out of there, they were all doomed to be slaughtered.

Power. Power was the one thing Caligulio wished for right now. If you have power, all is forgiven—the iron rule the Empire always stuck to. Only through the overwhelming power they had was it possible for them to subjugate the whole world. But if you didn’t have power, you were doomed to face a tragic end—something that was obvious, given Caligulio’s current situation. As one of the three commanders at the top of the Empire, he was proud to be one of the world’s great power brokers—but now he finally realized it was all an illusion.

I can’t believe how powerless I really was. How incompetent. How weak. I had no idea I was such a miserable peon, constantly being exploited…

He couldn’t help but lament his fate. Fortune, fame, and everything that came with them were worthless in his current circumstances. When you got into serious trouble, there were far, far more important things you needed at hand.

“I wish I had power…”

Large tears spilled from Caligulio’s eyes. Nearly a million soldiers, people who believed in the glory of the Empire and the commander who led them, were dead. The impact of this undeniable truth was devastating him.

“R-reporting, sir! A huge flame was observed in the sky above the battlefield. Based on the amount of heat it generated, we believe the chances that anyone on the ground survived it are hopeless—”

“It’s over,” Caligulio’s first officer muttered. “The Empire’s been completely defeated…”

The rest of the staff fell silent. Even the ones trying to escape reality a moment ago were stunned, as if waking up from a dream. They tried to face the reality that awaited them, but their brains refused to accept it.

“…Let’s offer our surrender. Whether they’ll accept it is a gamble, but there’s a chance they’ll find us useful. At this rate, we’re all going to be killed anyway. I think it’s our only chance for survival, but what do you think?”

Better to be enslaved than dead. That was the thought behind this officer’s proposal, although he worried it was coming far too late. Nonetheless, Caligulio decided to accept the offer.

“…Right. Yes, it may be pointless, but let’s try to negotiate. At the very least, if we can turn the enemy’s attention toward us, that’ll give Misha and her comrades a better chance at escaping.”

Even if this battle ended with them all dying, their defeat would still have meaning if the Empire received the information they learned. That thought alone made Caligulio reluctantly agree. It was uncharacteristically modest of him, but his heart had long since been shattered.

Admittedly, thanks to this, he was able to think once more about the best course of action in this situation. If he had gained this state of mind earlier, it would have made him a master general for the ages, no doubt. It took him fully abandoning his greed and vanity to accomplish, but at long last, Caligulio had regained his original, latent intelligence.

But the decision came far too late. Any hope for Caligulio and his staff had long since disappeared.

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… Surrender? Ooh, we can’t have that now, can we? I’m afraid you’ll have to deal with me for a few moments.”

Diablo, who had actually been in the tent for some time now, was dressed in his usual butler’s uniform, a smile on his handsome face. The moment he saw the demon, Caligulio realized the sheer difference in power between them. Now that he had regained his calm judgment skills, he wasn’t going to throw away his life for the sake of trivial pride. Negotiation came first now, so he had his guards lower their swords. That was undoubtedly the right thing to do. Any attempts at a fight were futile.

Out the corner of his eye, Caligulio spotted Krishna, cowering and intoning “I can’t… I can’t…” over and over. Just like the commander, he must have immediately recognized the overwhelming difference in strength. Internally praising himself for making the right decision, Caligulio decided to identify himself first.

“My name is Caligulio. I am the commander of this operation. May I ask your name?”

“Oh? How polite of you. My name is Diablo, loyal servant of the demon lord Rimuru.”

Diablo loved giving people his name. He couldn’t look more cheerful right now.

Caligulio took a moment to think. There was little chance they could beat Diablo, even if everybody in command HQ jumped him en masse. The sheer demonic energy they sensed was denser than that of the greatest of dragons, an aura of utter supremacy that outclassed even that of the demon lord Clayman, whom Caligulio was acquainted with. Plus, Diablo came here without giving away any hint of his presence. He had infiltrated their HQ without showing any sign of the supreme aura that oozed off of him now.

But despite such an absolutely powerful presence before him, Caligulio’s mind was tranquil. This is an opportunity for us. It sounds like he won’t accept our surrender, but he is willing to negotiate. If we can buy enough time, maybe we can keep this dangerous man at bay for long enough.

And that would offer more safety for Misha and the other escapees. But that hope was doomed to fail.

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… Are you trying to stall for time, perhaps?”

“What?”

“Several of your people fled from here, and you’re serving as decoys for them. A truly excellent example of self-sacrifice, but I’m afraid it’s not going to help you. You see, I’ve already taken care of them.”

Diablo laughed. When a demon comes up to you, he’ll never let his prey go—and Diablo just proved it. Out of empty space, he produced two corpses and dumped them on the ground.

“Are those the Single Digits?!” a shocked Krishna shouted. They were the bodies of Bernie and Jiwu.

Intense fear ran through the command center. Krishna wasn’t the only one left speechless. Everybody in the tent knew what the defeat of not one, but two Single Digits meant. There was no beating Diablo. And not just that…

N-no… In that case… In that case, our deaths, and the deaths of all those soldiers… It’s going to be all for nothing!!

A deep despair struck Caligulio.

“Draw your swords! Intruder! Kill the intruder!!”

The guards responded to the second-in-command’s frenzied shouting. Unlike Krishna, the armed sentries knew nothing about Diablo’s strength, reacting without realizing just how reckless they were being.

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… You lowly worms think you stand a chance against me?”

Diablo laughed in their faces. But Caligulio’s aide was undeterred.

“Silence, demon! There’s still over a thousand warriors surrounding you. Powerful or not, what can you do by yourself?!”

He was trying his best to mask his fear with rage. But Caligulio didn’t move. He wanted to scream at his assistant to stop, but he couldn’t even open his mouth any longer. His aide thought a thousand against one were good odds, but they weren’t, and he had to tell him, but he couldn’t…

Now Caligulio thought he understood what strength was. What Emperor Ludora wanted from them all. A single powerful figure can triumph over a million-strong army. The extreme, unthinkable magic they just saw was proof of that. And if they had even one monster capable of killing two Single Digits, the entire Armored Division was easily crushable this whole time.

And if he needed any more evidence:

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… I’m afraid those words came a little too late. The only ones still alive in this camp, you understand, are all inside this tent.”

The aide didn’t understand what he meant for a moment. But Caligulio didn’t need to open a tent flap to know what must’ve happened. It was too quiet outside, something that had been nagging at him for a little while now.

Diablo snapped his fingers—and then the entire tent was blown away, letting the occupants examine the scene outside.

It was a field piled high with dead bodies. The soldiers had all passed, as if sleeping on top of each other—as if someone had silently extracted their souls from each of them…

That’s exactly what happened, Caligulio realized. Diablo took their souls. He didn’t let a single one resist him.

And now, once again, the tragedy played itself out before Caligulio’s eyes. Another snap of Diablo’s fingers, and Krishna and the others toppled over.

Waves of despair and sadness crested across the commander’s heart.

“Nn, nhh… Aaahhhhhhhhhhhhh…!!”

He screamed, shedding tears of blood. And right after that, his body was so saturated with emotions that he exploded.

Diablo had no reason to allow any enemy soldiers to escape in the first place.

After receiving the order from Rimuru, Diablo merrily strode onto the battlefield. Following the signs of Krishna that he had detected, he discovered the enemy’s command tent and took a look inside. Then he was accosted by Bernie and Jiwu, but since he had no intention of letting any Empire soldiers escape, he quickly opted to deal with them on the spot.

They were much stronger than he thought.

Well, well, well… Even with my unique skills tuned to maximum, these two remain unaffected? But it appears their powers are borrowed from someone else. They are unbalanced, you could say—I doubt they’ve actually awakened to any of these abilities. And if they haven’t, I can still work with this.

Despite his slight puzzlement, Diablo was still reliably in command from start to finish as he dispatched the two Single Digits.

Misha, who came over in a hurry once she saw what was going on, quickly revealed that she was working for Yuuki. Rimuru had a tacit agreement to fight alongside Yuuki, and Diablo would never go against his will, so he let her go free.

But were those ultimate skills they had? I still resent how much Guy bragged about his to me long ago, but perhaps this is worth investigating…

Diablo was never one to shy away from any chance to become stronger—and here, too, he abandoned all self-restraint. If he found something effective, he’d take advantage of it; that’s how the demon was. But despite this newfound interest in ultimate skills, he didn’t lose sight of his mission.

Returning to the Empire’s camp, he easily made his way inside, invoking End of the World to take the lives of anyone he saw. He worked quickly, indiscriminately, and without any hesitation or concern as he slaughtered them all.

Caligulio was now screaming in front of Diablo. It made the demon chuckle a bit.

The commander had now surpassed all limits of the human body. Maybe he had the potential to do this all along. By this point, he was well past Enlightened, his energy growing higher and higher.

Awakening out of sheer despair, eh? It looks like his sense of guilt is bringing him to a higher level. And that makes him much more worthy to fight me.

For most of his existence, Diablo had little interest in gaining strength. But now he thirsted for it—all so he could be a helpful servant, or tool, for Rimuru, the lord who he served. In his mind, a tool was meaningless unless it could prove its usefulness to its master. Needless tools had no value in existing, as far as he was concerned. That was why Diablo never fielded any of his own servants. He always preferred to live alone, rather than put up with a bunch of incompetents below him.

Along those lines, Diablo never forgot his own ambitions to become stronger, more capable. And fighting someone as strong as this was an opportunity like none other for him.

As Caligulio heard what seemed like a distant scream, he awoke. Power coursed through his veins, a ferocious power like none he had ever experienced. Overwhelming, he thought. The answer, despair, and terror from having his friends killed became the key to shattering his own limitations—and this, right now, was exactly what Emperor Ludora was anticipating from him all along.

He actually said it to Caligulio in person once: “I have high hopes for you.” Caligulio had never forgotten that day. He thought His Majesty meant that he’d become an army commander and serve the Empire with value—but he misinterpreted the emperor’s words.

This was it. This was it the whole time. His Majesty, Emperor Ludora, wanted me to awaken!

And when he realized that, he understood. Everything that had happened to him up until then really was meaningful.

Caligulio was no longer just Enlightened—he had become a Saint. Every cell in his body blended together, his spirit surpassing his physical form. He could easily tell that his body was being remade; transformed. The power was tremendous, on par with an awakened demon lord. And now that he was awakened to it, he realized just how incompetent he had been until now. Not just him—everyone. With this now at his fingertips, the entire Armored Division seemed like a bunch of cheap toys. The Empire’s military, as it stood now and before, never had a chance of beating Veldora, nor any demon lord.

“I—I was such a fool…”

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… You’re exactly right.”

“But now… Now I swear I’ll make up for all my mistakes!”

The moment he shouted that, a shining suit of divine armor wrapped itself around his body. It was God-class armor, handed down from the time of ancient gods and gifted to him from the emperor. Only the Marshal and the three commanders were allowed to use this armor, which served as proof that its wearer ranked among the Empire’s very best. Now, at long last, it had recognized Caligulio as its true master.

“You’ll pay for this, demon! I’m gonna mow you down!”

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… It would hardly be fun otherwise.”

The two sides glared at each other, and the final battle began.

Exercising the limits of his power, Caligulio sent out a full-throttle strike to start. His fist, protected by a gauntlet, was a deadly weapon in itself, capable of smashing through almost any material in this world. The tip of his fist exceeded the speed of sound, not even leaving an afterimage as it traversed the realms of mythology. The shock wave it produced shattered any physical being’s defense, destroying its very molecular bonds—and the spirit inside his fist could pass through the heart’s barrier and damage one’s astral body, letting him kill any spiritual life-form.

Caligulio knew Diablo’s name. He was one of Rimuru’s Big Four, and his real identity was an evil demon. That, and—incredibly enough—the report he saw claimed he was now a Demon Peer, something that existed only in legend before. He had previously scoffed at the Imperial Information Bureau’s investigations, but he could believe every word of that dossier. If two Single Digits challenged Diablo and died, that made him a truly fearsome adversary.

But all his fear was now gone.

He’s a horrible demon, I’ll grant you that—but now I can take him. With this power, I can defeat anything—True Dragons, demon lords, even Heroes!

If you awarded a score of one to a person of average strength, the physical ability of someone designated A rank would be at least ten. For a high-ranked magic-born, it was close to a hundred; for an Arch Demon, they’d notch up 140. A demon lord would probably be at least three hundred, and while a True Dragon was impossible to measure, estimates pinned it at over a thousand. Now, Caligulio realized, his own power was in the quadruple digits as well—a world that only a Saint could ever reach. And that wasn’t all. He was wearing God-class armor, mythical gear whose energy was comparable to his own.

It was more than enough to be able to destroy a Demon Peer. He was convinced of that, and it wasn’t hard to see why.

“Hmm… A tad disappointing.”

But his killer fist was lightly brushed away by Diablo.

“No!”

“Oh, do you have a question?”

“Why—why are you still unharmed?!”

That one blow should’ve been able to destroy any demon. Seeing him unscathed was simply ridiculous. He refused to accept it.

“Why? It’s simple. You don’t have the skill level required to handle that power.”

The awful truth was delivered as casually as the day’s weather.

“The skill level?”

“Yes. It’s quite a pity for me, too. It was too early for you to fight. If this is how things are, the duo from before were more powerful. They both boasted ultimate skills, albeit borrowed. If you had awakened to this power sooner than now, this would’ve been a much more exciting battle… But alas.”

Fruit needs to ripen before it tastes sweet. Diablo was lamenting the fact that he picked this one off the tree far too soon. But all this was an insult Caligulio was too loath to admit.

“God dammit! Don’t you belittle me, you demon bastard!!”

He could shout all he wanted, but the situation was already grim. Caligulio understood that. He knew he couldn’t beat the demon in front of him.

But what piqued his curiosity was the secret of the Single Digits’ power Diablo just inadvertently revealed. They were the strongest fighters in the Empire, handpicked by Emperor Ludora—and the emperor must have been the one who lent them their ultimate powers. Diablo described them as borrowed, not acquired through personal effort, and that was exactly why they didn’t work on him.

If you didn’t have insight into the essence of power, and how to make it your own, then all the strength in the world was meaningless. It was as true for Caligulio as it was for the dead Single Digits. As Diablo put it, he was fighting too soon—a reality he couldn’t deny, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Aaarrrrggghhhh!!”

There was no winning this. He knew it now. But even so, he’d still try with everything he had. He had to retaliate, at the very least, or else all this was for naught. He had to deny that at all costs, and so he challenged Diablo to a truly reckless battle.

But by now, it barely even counted as a fight. For Diablo, who had correctly assessed Caligulio’s current abilities, it was little more than a procedure. Even the God-class armor and all its mighty force couldn’t be fully utilized by Caligulio as he stood now. The armor had accepted him, but they still weren’t at a heart-to-heart level of communication yet. God-class gear had a will of its own, and there simply wasn’t enough time to build a relationship and have this armor truly recognize him as its true master. A tool only had meaning if you could use it well; there was nothing sadder than a tool without a user who could bring out its full potential.

So Caligulio, the last surviving member of the imperial invaders, was defeated, unable to even make Diablo fight him seriously—and with that, his soul was reaped.