Vaughn was struggling against Footman—or, perhaps, “struggling” was too polite a way to put it. He was Enlightened himself, and confident enough in his powers, but Footman had a magicule count large enough to easily overwhelm him. Vaughn might’ve had a Legend-class suit of armor and war lance, which no doubt contributed to the bottom line for him, but his foe still seemed so distressingly out of reach.
The only reason why he was still in this fight was because Footman had lost all rational thought. That, and Phobio’s contribution was a big part of it.
“Phobio, the Black Leopard Fang, is here to help!”
At first Vaughn was suspicious of the man who burst in shouting that. But then he remembered who he really was.
The Black Leopard Fang… Ah, yes, one of the demon lord Carillon’s Three Lycanthropeers! That’s right—Carillon has surrendered to the demon lord Milim, and Milim herself has formed an alliance with Lord Rimuru…
He was not an enemy, in other words, and so Vaughn welcomed the assistance.
“Glad to see you. I was just thinking it’d be tough to go on much longer on my own.”
“I’ll bet. Honestly, I wasn’t too sure about my chances solo, either.”
Phobio had reflected on his own attitude, regretting some of his past mistakes, and now he was calmly evaluating his abilities. Thus, he instinctively realized that even if he went all out and Animalized himself at full force, he still couldn’t beat Footman. So he put aside his pride and opted to fight together with Vaughn.
Footman was powerful, but because he was no longer capable of logical thought, his attacks were striking a monotonous note. It was still enough to gravely wound Vaughn and Phobio, but they were managing to stay on their feet. They couldn’t hope for victory like this, but the word “retreat” wasn’t in their vocabulary. Their friends, after all, were fighting to the death right next to them.
Teare, the other clown, was engaged with Henrietta, knight assassin of Dwargon, with Gobwa and her troops pitching in. They were a small group of elites attempting to capture Teare all by herself—but something was rather strange with her.
“I’m really sorry about this, okay? I don’t like this very much, either, but it’s an order. I’m trying my best not to kill anyone, so try and do something to stop me, all right?!”
Her fighting was as lethal as ever, but she sounded very earnest about that. In fact, despite receiving her orders to fight from Kagali, Teare still retained her own free will. She couldn’t defy the order, but she understood that Kagali was manipulating her mind. She was an unwilling participant, in other words, and she wasn’t volunteering to be here at all. That was why she was trying not to exercise her full force—joining the fight, following the orders to the letter, but still giving Henrietta and the rest the chance to stop her. In response, Henrietta was attempting a capture operation…but despite Teare trying to go easy, the difference in strength was still too great to overcome, and they had achieved little so far.
“And sorry to you, too, okay? I know I took advantage of you before, but I’m not trying to trick you this time!”
Having Teare address him enraged Phobio. He and Vaughn realized from an early point that Footman’s reason had left him because Teare wanted to keep anyone from dying. They hadn’t noticed when they first met, but Footman was emitting the same kind of atmosphere as Carillon, someone Phobio respected greatly, and thus he knew he’d never win in a proper fight.
So Phobio, for his part, was thankful to Teare for that. But:
“Shut up! Quit reminding me of my darker hours. You don’t need to spell it out—I’m glad you put him in berserker mode for me!”
“Right? You guys are so weak, if Footman was serious about this, you’d be dead by now!”
Teare sounded so innocent as she lashed back at Phobio. She didn’t mean any malice by it; she believed every word of it. That’s what made Phobio so angry about it—but right now, complaining was about all he could do.
“Impudent little brat…”
“Oh, quiet down, you! Work harder for us, then! Be a little more lenient!”
All he and Vaughn could do right now was just sigh and say, in so many words, “We’ll get back at you later!”
Things remained tough all around.
Gobwa, for her part, was trying to find a breakthrough and help out any allies who needed her assistance. That was what made her decide this was the best place to go—but things were never going to be easy.
Teare had no interest in fighting, but she couldn’t disobey orders. Gobwa assumed that meant she’d be easy to capture, and she wasn’t wrong to think that. The only reason it wasn’t going well was because Teare and Footman were just too strong.
The latter could easily break through their metal nets; nothing half-hearted worked against him, and knocking him unconscious seemed beyond impossible. It took two strong men in Vaughn and Phobio to simply keep him in place. Meanwhile Henrietta considered herself a speedy fighter, but not even she could keep up with Teare—and Gobwa couldn’t lay a finger on her. She tried casting her net on her, but it seemed unlikely that they’d ever capture her alive. Soka and her team might’ve fared better, but they were too busy fighting Marco.
With all that in mind, things were progressively worsening across the field. Gobwa was receiving updates from Moss on their situation; he reported that Veyron and Zonda had set off to bail Gabil out. Things were back to a stalemate, but given the hazards they dealt with, that was little to no comfort.
Worst of all was Kondo. Hakuro was defeated, and even King Gazel had met his match. Gobwa heard that Agera and Esprit were on their way to him, but she doubted they could slow Kondo down one bit.
“If worst comes to worst,” Moss told her, “I’ll go out.” His role was to assess the war situation on behalf of Benimaru, with Gobwa formulating a strategy based on his findings. Even now, her hands full dealing with Teare, Gobwa was still giving a continual stream of instructions—and it was only possible thanks to Moss’s support. If he was forced to join the fray as well, the entire front line would collapse in a hurry.
“Wait a moment, please. If worst comes to worst, I’ll ask you for that…but do you think you could even do anything?”
“…I will do my best.”
Not even Moss could win, then? The thought depressed Gobwa. Moss was a very confident man, one who treated everyone except for a very few (Testarossa chief among them) with supreme arrogance. Now even he was giving vague assurances at best. It only proved how dangerous a foe Kondo was.
The lieutenant was difficult to stop. Gabil wasn’t back on the front lines yet. Gobwa’s team was a long way from capturing Teare and Footman. All of this made it impossible to disrupt Kagali’s ritual. Gadora was there, but he was busy waging a war of words against Velgrynd. If she decided to enter the fray, the moment would spell defeat for them all.
It couldn’t be much worse. Now we know how much we’ve been relying on Sir Rimuru and Sir Benimaru this whole time…
Gobwa had her regrets, but realizing that now wouldn’t help matters. That was why she couldn’t afford to give up.
It’s not over yet. The fact that Lady Velgrynd hasn’t acted yet proves that the demons are giving their best effort against her. The difference in strength must be massive, but they’re still holding out for us. I’d never allow us to give up the fight before them!
She recalled those proud, lofty demonesses. They hated to lose, and even though they were relatively new to Tempest, they had already been appointed to the Twelve Lordly Guardians, among the highest in their government. Their strength was beyond Gobwa’s imagination, but when Velgrynd was the opponent, the despair was palpable. The mere fact they were still fighting against her was amazing in itself.
We can’t lose to them, Gobwa thought. Firing herself up further, she resumed her attempted capture of Teare.
A man stood before Kondo—Agera, dressed casually like a samurai.
“Go ahead, Agera! I won’t get in your way.”
Esprit bowed out, focused on healing Gazel and Hakuro. Agera just shook his head at her. Esprit was always this way—always carrying on, trying to swoop in to grab the kudos when she could. It was clear she was running from battle because she saw no way to beat Kondo. The quintessential demon, one could say.
So Agera paid her no further mind and pointed his sword at Kondo. For three hundred years, no one had defeated him in battle. He knew Kondo defeated the great swordsmen Hakuro and Gazel, and the thought made his blood boil.
“You were Kondo? Your skill makes me sigh in admiration. I, too, live by the way of the sword…and I would be delighted to compete against you.”
In a no-holds-barred match, Agera knew he couldn’t beat Kondo. Hakuro only managed to land a few choice blows because Kondo kept their battle strictly to sword-fighting. Otherwise, even if Gazel and Hakuro took him on at once, they’d be quickly dispatched with Kondo not even taking a scratch.
That was why he was making this proposal, as desperate as it seemed, but Agera was convinced Kondo would agree to it. That’s because he sensed something oddly nostalgic in his swordsmanship.
“Lord Agera… So you’ve mastered the sword after all?”
Hakuro interrupted before Kondo could answer.
“Mm? What do you mean ‘after all’?”
“Ah… Well, you do seem to resemble someone I know, you see…”
Hakuro stammered a bit as Agera looked quizzically at him. In fact, Hakuro’s grandfather and Agera were practically the spitting images of each other. It wasn’t just a matter of their faces—they had the same physique, the same atmosphere, and the same inscrutable mannerisms.
“Do I? Well, unfortunately, I do not think we have met before. I have no memory of meeting you since I was born into this world three hundred years ago…and I cannot say if I’ve ‘mastered the sword’ at all. I have merely resolved to fight with this blade for all of my life.”
Agera gave him a calm smile. To him, the sword was everything.
“I see… Please, don’t mind me, then.”
Hakuro waved him off, stifling the assorted thoughts floating through his head. He had a suspicion Agera was the reincarnation of his grandfather, but he had no solid proof. And if Agera was Byakuya Araki, it was nothing Kondo needed to care about. Hakuro had never beaten his grandfather, but he was still just a human being.
No matter what the answer to this riddle was, it wouldn’t help turn the tables on this fight. The only way to win was to defeat Kondo through sheer ability.
“This other person, Lord Hakuro…”
“Yes, it was my grandfather.”
Hakuro whispered the answer to Gabil’s groaned question.
“By the way,” Esprit chimed in, “did your grandfather die three hundred years ago, Hakuro?”
“Indeed he did.”
“Then maybe it’s possible, I think. He was born as a demon looking just like that, and he was even carrying a sword from the get-go. Lady Carrera has a knack for attracting souls gifted in the martial arts, too. If there was some sort of connection, I wouldn’t be surprised at all.”
“I see. Well, if that’s the case, would he perhaps know some secret arts that not even you do, Sir Hakuro?”
“I’m not sure. I never fully mastered it myself, but among the techniques he showed me, he said that the Multilayered Blossom Flash was the best…”
Now they were striking up a conversation. Hakuro and his cohorts had already done their best, and it wasn’t good enough. So they sat back, ready to watch how this turned out. And even though he knew this wasn’t the time for it, Hakuro was curious about Agera’s true identity—and Gazel, too, was curious about Hakuro’s long-lost mentor.
Esprit, meanwhile, was healing both of them. Her “I’m working!!” dedication to her job was impressive; even Agera had to take his hat off to her. But Agera had other concerns.
Kondo wasn’t disturbing their conversation at all, looking fully relaxed as he observed Agera. His job was to eliminate anyone who tried to interfere with Kagali’s ritual; he had already picked out the most useful-looking enemies, and he had no intention of killing everybody on the scene. So he decided to attend to Agera, not letting himself panic. He only took serious measures against Gazel because leaving him unattended would have been too dangerous. If a Saint equivalent to him had been granted techniques from Hakuro, there was no absolute guarantee he could win. Kondo’s job, as a result, was to prioritize winning—in other words, do his job. Against a clearly inferior opponent like Agera, he didn’t mind playing around a little bit.
But this was quite an unusual decision for him to make. He was a rationalist, always devoted to doing the job, and he hated wasting effort on unimportant things. His only weakness in that respect was his pride in the school of swordsmanship he studied under.
Look at me… Still too naïve to let go of my personal feelings…
But despite his misgivings, his curiosity still won out.
“All right, I’ll play along”—he was just about to say it, but he wasn’t foolish enough not to keep an eye on his surroundings. Thus, out the corner of his eye, he saw Velgrynd go on the move. Kagali’s forbidden curse Dead Birthday was still in progress, but it looked like events were moving along now. Kondo would have to go on the move as well, whether he wanted to or not.
“Sorry. I want to take you on, but my work comes first.”
He put away his military sword as he gave Agera the news. He couldn’t have been looking down upon the demon more—but even though he knew that, Agera could do nothing to stop him. And as he watched Kondo stride away, he couldn’t help but break out in a cold sweat.
“I suppose,” he muttered in frustration, “I’ll live to see another day after all.”
Gadora was expending a mighty effort fighting alone against Velgrynd. Not that he was fighting at all, however. If he had been, he would’ve been smashed to pieces in a single blow, no matter how wondrous and state-of-the-art his Demon Colossus was. He knew his place, and he wasn’t about to try anything so foolish. Instead, he was letting his curiosity guide him as he questioned Velgrynd.
“Not even I knew until now that the Marshal was Lady Velgrynd the Flame Dragon, Sir Veldora’s elder sister. No wonder you’re such a beauty.”
That was where his praise of her began. He kept up the flattery, attracting her attention and leading her into further conversation.
“I’m sure you didn’t know. I’ve only started to show my face around you recently.”
She decided to respond to it—and that was bad luck for her, because now she had to keep up her part of the conversation for as long as Gadora willed it. This was the best way he knew to buy time for his side, and plainly it was working brilliantly, because Gadora was still alive.
Velgrynd, however, had her own agenda.
“…I see. So you’ve been supporting His Majesty the Emperor the whole time up to now? Playing the role of so many Marshals across so many generations… I, Gadora, could not possibly be more impressed!”
“Yes, well, I’d occasionally go a few centuries without speaking in public, you know. I wouldn’t exactly call it anything as difficult as that.”
Velgrynd was politely holding up her part of the chat, but even she was showing signs of fatigue. This barrage of questions was starting to get on her nerves…and that was why she began to unintentionally complain a bit.
“But you know, you really are shameless, aren’t you? I’ve been allowing you to pester me with questions because Ludora likes you a lot, but I wasn’t expecting quite this many.”
“Ah, how delighted I am to hear the compliment!”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
Velgrynd looked all but disgusted. For her, crushing Gadora would be an easy task—but she already had four Separate Bodies active, and she hesitated to break out another one just for Gadora’s sake. As long as he didn’t mess around with the ritual, she was more or less all right with all this banter.
Even as Velgrynd wondered if she was making a mistake, Gadora was still peppering her with a bunch of lively questions.
“By the way, I was wondering—why did Lord Damrada stop me from informing His Majesty of what I knew? If he had an accurate picture of Sir Rimuru’s forces, the imperial army would have suffered far less damage.”
“So? As you’ve probably realized by now, we don’t really care about the imperial army. We just wanted a war we could use to awaken the stronger among us.”
“Still, though, don’t you think it would’ve been better if I could have discussed it with him?”
“You’re not going to drop the topic, huh? I’m sure you see it as Damrada betraying you, but he had his own reasons, you know.”
“Mmm, I see. These reasons… Would they have something to do with the child Masayuki?”
“I don’t know. Why would I need to know what Damrada was up to? And who’s Masayuki?”
“Huh?”
Velgrynd’s reaction puzzled Gadora. He’d expected Masayuki to be the key to all of this. “Um, you’re not aware of Masayuki the Hero?” he fearfully asked.
“I told you I wasn’t,” came the immediate reply. “What, is he strong or something?”
If this was a yes/no question, “no” was absolutely the answer. Gadora didn’t dislike Masayuki—he kind of enjoyed his spunk, in fact—but he knew there was no way you could ever describe him as “strong.”
Velgrynd snickered at his response. “Well, Kondo, you know… He’s only interested in people who’re likely to awaken. Besides, if he’s going around styling himself as a Hero, perhaps Ludora assumed the demon lords would take care of him soon enough anyway.”
This sounded valid to Gadora. Yuuki was using Masayuki to gauge the demon lord Rimuru’s reaction—upon Damrada’s advice, no doubt. That meant the upper echelons of the Empire must have known all about Masayuki…and yet Velgrynd claimed to have no knowledge of him.
Yes, it was certainly plausible that they ignored him because of his obvious wimpiness. Kondo, at least, would immediately judge Masayuki as worthless to him. He was always eager to nip any uncertainty in the bud before it posed a problem, and if Masayuki was really a dead ringer for Emperor Ludora, it wouldn’t be surprising that he’d try to get rid of him. That much is understandable—but what about Damrada’s moves, then?
“Hmm… But Sir Damrada had assigned two Single Digits to protect young Masayuki, you know.”
“So we could infiltrate the land of monsters, I presume?”
“No… Well, yes, but…”
Gadora faltered, feeling a bit frustrated. This sounded reasonable to him, but at the same time, something didn’t seem quite right. Despite betraying the Empire, he was letting himself be troubled by things that shouldn’t have bothered him. He wanted to yell at Velgrynd to treat his questions more seriously.
“You seem dissatisfied with that answer.”
“Oh, no no no. Absolutely not!”
He tried desperately assuaging her, wondering how she could see into his state of mind when she couldn’t even see his face. Then he realized exactly why something seemed off with what Velgrynd was saying.
“Sir Damrada truly is a traitor, isn’t he?”
The words just fell out of his mouth.
“Oh, don’t be silly. You’re the traitor here.”
She had a point. But Gadora was undaunted. Willing himself to be even more shameless than before, he spoke to Velgrynd some more.
“Well, let me ask you a question. This boy Masayuki looks exactly like His Majesty the Emperor. What do you think about that?”
It was that piece of information that made him uncomfortable. It was natural for the Empire to care a lot about whether someone was strong or weak—but you couldn’t talk about Masayuki at all without mentioning that he looked like Emperor Ludora, their leader. Kondo might have known about this, although Bernie and Jiwu probably didn’t. Damrada, Ludora’s friend, definitely did. So why would he want them protecting Masayuki? That was what made Gadora wonder.
“…Pardon me?”
“That is to say, the way Emperor Ludora and Masayuki look exactly alike… Why wasn’t that information relayed to—?!”
Gadora stopped mid-question, face turning pale. The expression on Velgrynd’s face made him quake in his boots. Now he regretted speaking out of turn so much.
Ooh, I might be dead…
But Velgrynd just ignored him and began thinking things over. It was hard to believe Kondo didn’t know this piece of information—but if so, why didn’t he tell her or anyone else about it? And Damrada was even worse. She had no idea what he was thinking, and Gadora’s question could no longer be ignored.
And for that matter, just how physically alike were the two…?
Exactly like Ludora, hmm? I’ll have to see for myself sometime…
Everything had been going to plan, she thought, except for that slight miscalculation where the entire imperial army got annihilated. But somehow, this seemingly inconsequential piece of information was getting under her skin.
“Well, Gadora, thank you for the useful tip. I’ll be willing to let you off the hook in exchange, but what do you think? Are you still going to challenge me with that toy?”
Velgrynd had no intention of killing Gadora that day. Despite it all, he was one of the few friends of Ludora who he really trusted. And while he had undeniably betrayed the Empire, she didn’t feel he had ever betrayed Ludora.
To Velgrynd, the Empire itself didn’t mean very much, and thus Gadora’s betrayal was perfectly acceptable. This, Gadora understood, was where she differed from a lot of people, and even he had trouble wrapping his mind around it. So he decided that he had no choice but to accept Velgrynd’s proposal. He was buying time with this banter because he knew he couldn’t win anyway. If an actual battle ever broke out, that’d be the end of the operation right there. Gadora, in essence, wouldn’t last even one second against her.
“Wah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Oh, no need to joke with me. I know perfectly well that I am no match for you!”
He hid his qualms in laughter, deciding that a defiant tone was important here. The answer might have been disguised as a denial, but it was neither a yes nor a no. That was left to his conversation partner to decipher—and no one from Rimuru’s camp could accuse him of desertion afterward, either. It was the perfect move, Gadora’s wit at its sharpest.
Velgrynd could see through all of that slyness, but she still thought it was pretty entertaining of him. With a sigh, she muttered, “That’s so like you, Gadora,” and opted to let him go.
Besides—luckily for Gadora—the situation had changed. The alternate Velgrynd who was fighting Veldora had gone into all-out warfare, so her attention was needed elsewhere.
“Oh, no? Well, if you ever feel like it, let me know. I’ll be happy to take it on. But before that, do your best to survive this war, all right?”
“…Huh?”
“I have some business to attend to, so I’m going to leave this area to another pawn of mine. I don’t think the military ever liked you very much, but best of luck becoming a Saint while you’re here, okay?”
“What do you mean…?”
Ignoring Gadora’s attempt at a question, Velgrynd floated into the air. Having to interrupt her magic flow here would cause serious delays to the ritual, but that much was unavoidable.
Gadora, helplessly left behind, was stunned as he looked up at her. This change of tides bewildered him; he had no idea what to do next. In any battlefield, you couldn’t afford to relax for a single moment—and as if to prove the point, the meaning of Velgrynd’s words became clear before Gadora had an answer.
“Dimensional… Connection!!”
The scene was so far removed from reality, it boggled Gadora’s mind.
As soon as the levitating Velgrynd shouted it, the space around him contorted and warped—and from the hole in the air, a vast number of airships coursed out.
“Is that the fleet of airships carrying the Magical Beast Division?! No… You don’t mean that you’ve connected space itself…? That… That’s impossible. Do you have any idea how far away they were—? Wait, no, that’s not even the issue!”
Gadora was thoroughly confused. It was that hard to believe just what was happening before his eyes. Ignoring all laws of time and space, the airship fleet that was meant to attack Englesia from the north was now summoned over here. Rimuru estimated that they were at least three days away, and Gadora knew they couldn’t possibly have been summoned. Magical teleportation was fraught with danger; any failure could kill hundreds of soldiers, and preventing that required complex incantations and mountains of magic force.
With Sir Rimuru, it could be possible, couldn’t it? But if you’re summoning someone in a different location from yourself, the difficulty level jumps up by orders of magnitude! It’s simply impossible to do such a thing…
It transcended the bounds of all common sense. Gadora was absolutely correct, but he had great difficulty accepting it as reality.
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