CHAPTER 5
THE TRUTH BEHIND THE EMPEROR
Damrada, alone as he watched over one of the Eight Gates, couldn’t help but wonder:
Why did it turn out like this?
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Things couldn’t be any worse.
Yuuki had fallen into the hands of Emperor Ludora, deprived of his free will like all of his friends. Ludora had ordered Damrada to watch over them all, and he was in no position to defy him. Now, however, Ludora had given another order. Yuuki would be watched by someone else, and once the handover was done, he was to board the emperor’s flagship.
So began that great air battle.
Single Digits ranked sixth or higher were allowed to learn the true identity of the Marshal—but they could tell no one else. That was an absolute order, the information so vitally confidential that Damrada, whose business frequently took him to foreign lands, had his memories manipulated for extra security.
Yes. I made a promise to him. And that was…
Damrada recalled it once he saw the Marshal reveal herself. Many more memories followed, coming back vividly. He had previously recalled the most important promise he had made to Ludora, but now he remembered the reason it was so important to execute on it.
Well, now what…?
There was no time to stew over it. The demon lord Rimuru, whom he had seen not long ago, was a very nice person, one who didn’t seem much of a threat. Once he was captured in Velgrynd’s alternate dimension, he shouldn’t have been able to interfere with their measures to capture Veldora. And now, indeed, Veldora was completely dominated, giving Ludora a decisive advantage over Guy.
But this was of no importance to Damrada. Or to Ludora, even…
With a clarity of thought that felt like a thick fog being lifted, Damrada began wondering what was truly best for Ludora. But before he could answer that question, the demon lord Rimuru made his move—truly unprecedented violence.
Why did he ever think he wasn’t a threat? Damrada wished he could interrogate himself over that. The fact he made it out of Velgrynd’s seal made it no doubt that he was a force to be reckoned with. But more than that—the moment Damrada saw Rimuru appear, he realized just how naïve he had been. The demon lord had taken one look at him and the rest with his golden eyes. It was a glare, a cold one, as if he didn’t even recognize Damrada as his enemy. Kondo immediately stepped up to respond, but his attack didn’t work.
Is that all you have? Then I don’t even need to be wary of you. All of you can wait for later. Have fun being terrorized. And try not to get killed until I can deal with you…
That was the story Rimuru’s eyes seemed to tell. To him, Damrada and the others were as good as dead already. Emperor Ludora was no exception to this; if things kept going this way, they’d all doubtlessly be killed.
But what did tactical victory mean for Rimuru in this situation? It meant fulfilling two conditions. One, recapture Veldora. Two, eliminate the invaders.
Veldora was the demon lord’s staunchest ally. For Rimuru, him losing his free will couldn’t be allowed to stand. If he had come all the way over here, he must have been prepared to deal with Velgrynd—and from Damrada’s point of view, there was no predicting the outcome of that battle. It was a vast contest in some far-off land, and he had no way of analyzing it.
So what about eliminating the invaders? People called Rimuru a pacifist, but that didn’t make him nonviolent. His lands had been subject to numerous invasions in the past, and he had repelled all of them—by any means he saw fit.
Thanks to Veldora’s help, the land of monsters had a long string of victories. Rimuru would never forgive the Empire’s acts of aggression. The time for negotiation was over. For him, the only course of action was to kill every single imperial soldier. Bargaining in the face of this was meaningless—the only way out was to fight to the bitter end.
Even worse, they had signed no previous agreement over this war, which meant there was no guarantee that surrender would bring forgiveness. The Empire, seeing no point in such actions, set a trap for Rimuru when he came to negotiate. Their trust was ruined, and it could be concluded that no further talks would ever be agreed to.
We should have made much more of an effort to stop His Majesty.
Damrada, too, had grossly overestimated the Empire’s fighting ability. He saw no way they could lose, so he assumed they could dictate whatever terms of victory they wanted. He wanted to show off the Empire’s strength, smash his opponents, and swallow them up before they showed any signs of rebellion. They could replace their leadership, establish a puppet state—whatever they wanted, as long as they won the war. This was how the Empire expanded its territory, but this time, they made a great miscalculation. Not only were the two sides evenly matched on the battlefield; there was no guarantee even Emperor Ludora would be safe.
It was no wonder why Damrada felt so depressed.
It should be noted that Damrada’s primary concern was the promise he made to Ludora. There was no doubt in his mind that Rimuru wanted the emperor dead as well, and that made Damrada wonder what the right course of action for him could be. He wanted to keep that promise to Ludora—but it was something he wanted to achieve with his own two hands. But, oh, defeating Rimuru seemed so impossible…
Damrada shivered a bit as he analyzed the issue. Their flagship had been surrounded by terrifying magic, with the survivors now protecting the Eight Gates. Could you really call this fighting as equals? Because to him, this looked like nothing but a dreadful error.
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That brought us to now.
“Did I keep you waiting?”
Before Damrada’s eyes was a young girl, smiling happily. She was one of the seven Primal Demons, one bearing unbelievable strength—Ultima, servant of the demon lord Rimuru.
“He has Primals serving under him…and he’s even granted them power…”
She was an even more awesome sight up close. The accuracy and power of that fearsome Death Streak was far beyond what it used to be, proving that the demons had indeed been evolved. Rimuru had opened a massive gate to summon them all, not even caring about all the eyewitnesses, and then he did…something to everyone there. There had been no time to investigate exactly what, but Ultima had now given them a firm answer.
The demon looked amused with herself.
“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! You figured it out, huh? Well, that’s right. Sir Rimuru gave me a bunch of power, and now I’m feeling really good!”
It was a nice anecdote for Ultima. To Damrada, it was his worst nightmare. Giving power to a Primal—there was no way a mere demon lord could do that, as much as he predicted it himself. Not even Guy Crimson had evolved the Primals under his control, which made clear just how extraordinary the demon lord Rimuru’s actions were. But that didn’t stop Damrada from trying to defeat him. He had to fulfill his promise to Ludora, and as part of that, he was obliged to go all-out against the demon Ultima.
“You know, I have not always strived for the very best. Even if I have to choose a much harder path…as long as I can fulfill my goal at the end, that’s all that matters.”
Damrada stopped worrying. Even looking at Ultima and all the overwhelming force she boasted, he stood strong, never growing timid.
“Hmm… Still up for this, huh?”
“Of course. I am one of my master’s knights, and I will show you my power to the fullest.”
“Great. Can’t wait! Let’s get started then!”
Thus began the battle between Damrada, second-ranked of the Single Digits, and the “Pain Lord” Ultima.
Ultima chuckled as she observed Damrada. She could feel his power—an incredible amount for a human being, and exceptional even as a Saint. If she hadn’t been evolved, this might not have been winnable for her.
Hmm… I know this. He’s about equal with Hinata, huh? And she was like a natural enemy to all monsters, but it looks to me like this guy’s honed himself purely against humans, and individual targets for that matter. His type certainly can be a nuisance.
Ultima knew that people who improved and invented their own abilities, rather than have them granted by others, were a pain. Hakuro was a good example of that, someone who could use a seemingly boundless number of techniques to handle any situation in his way. Adapting and applying those skills was the secret to his strength, and to higher forms of existence like herself, it was an alien concept.
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Demons existed on a much higher plane of existence than people. All they needed to do was release a little magic force, and that itself became an attack.
That was true of Ultima, who stood at the very top of the demon race. She was born an expert on magic manipulation—the perfect control of magic force—and she didn’t have to work for it at all. Any wish she had instantly came true. That’s what magic was, and no one could dare hope to compete against its overwhelming versatility.
Until fairly recently, Ultima believed the only adversaries who could beat her were other Primals or wild cards like True Dragons. But this belief was mistaken, something she discovered during her battle with Velgrynd. She and her cohorts put up a good fight against her, despite being far outclassed; they even beat one of her Separate Bodies, although even that only had about 10 percent of Velgrynd’s strength. At the same time, however, they discovered that using their power the wrong way could get them defeated by a lower-ranked opponent.
The battles that followed offered a great many lessons. True Dragons, already the most powerful beings in the world, exhibited highly precise, sophisticated magic manipulation. That allowed them to fully overwhelm Ultima and the demonesses, despite their own magic skills. Ultima had no idea how Velgrynd pulled that off mid-battle, but now she did. The secret lay in applying an ultimate skill to your magic.
An ultimate skill gives you a lot more precision over your magic control, right? No wonder we couldn’t beat her at all.
Velgrynd was doing little more than keeping the demonesses at bay, but even that was too much for Ultima to overcome back then. And for Carrera, a self-styled magic expert, seeing someone handle it so much better than her was a humiliation.
Yes, a humiliation…but also a stroke of good luck. She enjoyed the opportunity to experience that battle, and she survived without tasting a decisive defeat. Never until now did Ultima consider that simply incorporating the effects of a skill into magic could potentially double its power. Now that this battle was behind her, she was quickly realizing some new possibilities.
True, we’ve got a very good foundation, but that doesn’t mean we should rely on it too much. A little innovation, and we can get even stronger!
Ultima, as the strongest of them all, had never held much of a craving for power. This time, though, she sincerely wanted it for herself. If someone already near-invincible strove for even greater heights through hard work and study, how much stronger could they get? The answer to this question probably lay in Velgrynd—her and Guy Crimson, no doubt. Along those lines, Diablo, constantly pursuing his own interests over anything else, was probably a wild card. It was completely different from Ultima and Carrera, who had never made an effort at anything before (Testarossa was another story).
Ultima was aware that she was the most inexperienced out of the seven Primals, but even so, she felt she could fight as an equal with Mizeri or Raine. When it came to Testarossa and Carrera in a serious fight, though, she didn’t like her chances. Testarossa was perfect—and elegant all the way. She was confident, even with her bad habit of looking down on others. Carrera was arrogant and sloppy, capable of perfection if she wanted it but prone to losing interest and phoning it in instead.
So what did that make Ultima? She couldn’t control magic as precisely as Testarossa, or throw around magic force the way Carrera could. Out of the three Devil Lords, she was probably bringing up the rear. Everything was just halfway there at best with her—she was a wellspring of talent, but she never enthusiastically applied herself to anything. In that way, she was similar to Carrera in many respects; that’s why they competed as rivals for so long. But now Carrera had taken up a new hobby—swordsmanship. It only made Ultima jealous.
But that would end today. Ultima was blessed with the opportunity to awaken, and now she had the power she wished for.
And I’m the one with the most room for growth among us all, right?
Now that she was thinking this way, it all seemed like a pretty funny story to her. It was all thanks to Rimuru, her master, and while Ultima had no idea how the demon lord could do that, it didn’t matter to her. All that mattered was whether she could attain a higher plane of existence or not—that and whether she could prove useful to Rimuru.
She continued to wish as she watched over Agera’s battle. And at the end of all that pondering, she heard what she thought was a voice.
Allow me to help you give shape to that wish a little.
This was the ultimate skill Samael, Lord of Deathly Poison. It could detect the weaknesses of any living thing and create a suitable “poison” to target them—and now that Ultima had this power, she felt she had no chance of losing to anyone.
But then she remembered. Wasn’t that what Diablo had always told her—to hone her skills and not rely too much on her latent power? She had been losing frequently to Zegion around that time, so she assumed Diablo was just giving her a hard time; he was mean that way. But Ultima had it all wrong. He was probably being sarcastic, yes, but he had her best interests in mind when he said it. He was teaching her, in essence, that the right control over your power could make a world of difference. And once that got through to Ultima, a lot of Diablo’s other advice popped into her mind.
You can’t truly acquire the power you’ve been given just by calling on it in a pinch. That’s really true!
Now Ultima was deeply convinced. She was told that not long after she was granted her name, and now she thought it was really true.
Come to think of it, Diablo never really used the powers Sir Rimuru gave him—not unless things were real bad. I thought he just didn’t see his enemies as worthy of tasting those attacks, but maybe he had a good reason.
So why not her, too, then?
Thus Ultima decided to use this opportunity as a way for her to grow. This man Damrada would be a tricky opponent, after all, so he’d be the perfect target to give her all against.
Ugh… Look at Diablo, trying to train us by making us fight like this… He really does look down on all of us, doesn’t he? If Testa finds that out, she’s gonna cause a lot of trouble for us, huh? But then again, maybe Testa went along with it. But, well, since we’re here and all…I might as well take advantage.
Even Damrada, a doubtlessly strong opponent, was merely a training partner to Ultima. She was determined to use her ultimate skill against him, the product of her long-held wishes, to win this out—and she was sure it’d be a growing experience for her. So she swore to herself that she’d win—not with the “power” she had without asking, but by perfectly applying the “ability” she had obtained through her own desires. Then, she thought, she could prove it. She wouldn’t be wishing it any longer—she really would be useful to Rimuru.
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The battle was reaching its peak intensity. Ultima had the power advantage with her attacks, but Damrada’s techniques parried them away. Occasionally he could even focus his entire body’s fighting spirit to cancel out the attack head-on. That was the fundamental power of Damrada—thinking on his feet and never wasting a movement. It was honestly impressive and fascinating to Ultima; it helped her realize a great many things mid-battle.
I see… So this kind of flow won’t put you off balance? I bet this would work on Zegion as well!
Zegion was just too much. The moment Ultima approached him, she’d get knocked to the ground. On-the-field battle training was one thing, but when it came to martial arts practice, he wasn’t a suitable sparring partner.
Along those lines, Damrada was a nice, approachable rival, the best person for her to fight against. Now Ultima realized how fortunate she was. With overwhelming magical power, she could easily defend against any attack—and on offense, she could crush any enemy by brute force alone. She thought she knew that, but now it actually began to feel that way—and as both sides increased their power, the battle grew more and more ferocious.
The powers were so closely balanced, there was no telling when the battle was going to end…or, at least, it seemed that way at a glance.
“Ah-ha-ha! What fun! I never would’ve lasted this long in a training session with Zegion.”
Ultima looked like she was truly enjoying herself. Damrada, by contrast, looked like this whole affair disgusted him.
“You treat a fight against me as a training session…? You truly do look down upon me.”
But despite his words, even Damrada knew it deep down. If this kept up, he would be the one who lost. Ultima was still growing, but Damrada was already giving her everything he had—all of his technique at once. There was no time to enjoy this; all that mattered was how he would ever defeat her.
Primals, after all, were like the “chosen ones” of magic. No half-hearted attack could ever work against someone capable of writing the physical laws of this planet.
Only through applying the ultimate enchantment Alternate to all of his attacks could Damrada inflict any damage on Ultima. He had spent over two millennia training himself, growing capable of using this borrowed power the way you or I breathe. It was so familiar to Damrada now that he had all but forgotten Ludora had lent it to him in the first place. Besides, demons had certain checks placed on them. There was a set limit to their magicule counts (although that seemed to be unlocked at the moment). As a result, someone Saint-class like Damrada had more overall energy on hand than Ultima—hence why he could keep it even with her.
The more I attack, the more I expose my hand, after all. But I doubt any of my more powerful finishers would work against her anyway. So…I can’t win?
Damrada expended a bone-crushing effort to acquire his technique, but Ultima could just steal it after a single glance. It would’ve been better if he went on a quick attack to end this in a hurry, but he knew that could leave him open and vulnerable to self-imploding. Ultima was still launching multiple attacks at once, all with the same mind-boggling force, and he was still canceling them all out at the same time…but that didn’t seem to frustrate his foe. In fact, Ultima looked happy.
“That’s so good! Like a textbook example!”
Being told that made Damrada far more frustrated instead.
He was in the corner. Not only was he in no position to hold anything back, but as soon as he showed any new move, he could feel Ultima growing off of it, like a pile of dry sand sucking up water.
Ha-ha-ha… All I can do is laugh.
It was true. Damrada had no idea that Primals were such terrifying things. An external observer would think their abilities were balanced against each other, but that balance was about to fall apart shortly. As long as one side of the fight continued growing, the scales were bound to tip sooner or later. That was the stark reality…and now the moment was here.
“Ha-ha! Now I’m really starting to get it!”
The change in Ultima’s mood was clear as she shouted it. Until now she had been storing up her powers so she could focus on stealing Damrada’s moves. Now that power was released—and behind her sprouted six pairs of featherless, batlike wings, a shining light purple in color.
“Here we go!”
“Ngh?!”
With that, the twelve wings began to move at once, changing shape in a multitude of ways as they aimed themselves at Damrada. Some were thin as blades, some sharp as needles, some formed fist-like mounds. The constant changes made it difficult to even attempt a mad dash away from them, much less try to deal with them.
Damrada, trying to parry a fist-like wing, was blown away once the fists crossed each other. The power was incomparable to anything before, too severe for Damrada to cancel out, and it was increasing rapidly. There was no longer any upper limit to her magicule count, and no sign of this rapid increase slowing down at all—she could make herself literally as powerful as she wished.
“Tsk!”
“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! I just love that kind of facial expression.”
“Hmph! Don’t sass me, little girl. Your power is amazing, but it doesn’t matter if you can’t hit me.”
Damrada had required more focus than ever before to avoid that attack. He acted unaffected, but inside, he began to feel a sense of deep urgency. If this continued, there was no way to win—but Ultima left no holes open. If she didn’t, Damrada would just have to poke one open…and so he resorted to desperate actions.
One of the wings pierced Damrada’s leg. It looked like a failure on his part, but that was exactly what his strategy was. A race like the demons, prone to boasting about their mighty power, was just as prone to arrogance. Even Ultima would let this put her off guard—and if Damrada could catch that, he was sure of victory.
“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! I thought you were gonna just keep dodging me. Or did you get tired?”
With a wicked grin, Ultima relaxed her attack and began taunting Damrada. Her wings went on the move, plunging into his limbs but not his vitals.
Yes, I know it. You’re all strong. That’s why you look down upon us…and dig your own graves at the final moment.
Damrada was sure his plan would succeed. Then, pretending to be wounded and fallen, he unleashed an all-out strike against Ultima.
“Holy Smashfist!”
This was his most powerful of finisher moves, a skill that took all his fighting spirit as a Saint and used Alternate to compress it into a single strike. Even the most powerful evil demon would be permanently extinguished by it, and without a body to inhabit, Ultima the Primal would be forced to vanish.
Damrada felt he had won, but there would be no victorious afterglow today. Just as he was about to finish Ultima off, he felt a chill for some reason. All that fell away was a single wing. It seemed to change shape, imitating Ultima herself, but Damrada couldn’t see it—and then it was too late.
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