by Fuse
The attack was true, expanded to maximum range and powerful enough to cause damage to its own caster. No creature could ever survive this—that was how sure Carillon was. He breathed a deep sigh as he attempted to descend to the earth…
…then immediately went into evasive action as his animal instincts sniffed out a lethal threat right behind him. That snap decision saved Carillon’s life. Blood gushed out from a wound on his side, caused by the sword as it swished by. He closed the cut through sheer force of will.
In a panic, he turned around. He knew there was no point confirming it, but his mind still couldn’t believe it. His eyes were greeted by just the person he expected, floating there in midair, platinum-pink hair flowing in the wind as she spread her dragon’s wings wide. Now there was a bloodred horn jutting out from her forehead, which hadn’t at all been there before. Her skimpy outfit, somewhere along the line, had transformed into a suit of ebony armor.
Ahh… Is that how you usually look in battle form…?
Carillon had just about exhausted his magical force. Despair began to paint over his previously indomitable will to fight. You’re kidding me! She took that without getting hurt? Give me a break… It put him in an odd state of mind; he wanted to cry and laugh simultaneously.
Then, for the first time in the battle, Milim spoke.
“Ha-ha-ha! Not bad! I like it. It’s been a while since my left hand’s gone numb like this. As thanks, I’ll show you something I’ve got saved up.”
The words sounded a bit flat and unemotional to Carillon’s ears. But the impending danger they portended gave him no time to ponder over it. He didn’t want to see it. He really didn’t. At least none of his citizens was anywhere nearby. They were fully evacuated. There was no need to worry about the castle town.
Carillon contemplated fleeing the scene at full speed. His instincts, so trustworthy up to now, were telling him that staying here meant death.
* * *
Her draconic pupils burst wide, her wings fully extended, Milim shouted:
“Drago-Nova!!”
The blast of light was thin, beautiful, reminiscent of the twinkling of stars. It rained down upon both the castle and the townscape that surrounded it, and remained soundless as it disappeared. The frequency it emitted reached beyond a human’s auditory range, which, along with the accompanying shock wave, was enough to fully destroy everything visible to the naked eye. Anything exposed to the light was helpless as it was ruthlessly disintegrated.
It was the ultimate in magic, the strongest in existence, and it was one main reason why Milim had always stood at the peak of all the battles she had fought over her many years.
That’s insane!!
Carillon just barely managed to flee above Milim in time. The fact that Drago-Nova had launched out in the direction she faced saved his life again—but the sight under him now made him lose all his words. The town, built of simple stone structures that integrated well with the local landscape, was completely erased.
This was Milim Nava, the Destroyer. A demon lord with whom you absolutely never engaged in conflict. Now Carillon had to admit it: His parents had been right. This was doomed. She was in too different a dimension.
But—
“But I wonder if there’s…”
“You wonder if there’s what? I’d like to know.”
Carillon could feel a thin blade touching the back of his neck. He sensed another woman there, flying in from behind. It was Frey the Sky Queen, the demon lord who held absolute rule over the heavenly skies. Now Carillon realized why Milim hadn’t bothered to hide her overwhelming aura. It provided Frey all the cover she needed to make her approach undetected.
“Ngh, Frey… Not you, too…?!”
“Not me what, exactly? Would you mind taking the time to explain?”
Frey moved her hand—and Carillon’s consciousness went dark.
It was the worst day in the history of Eurazania, one that would later be referred to by the assorted lycanthropes who called it home as the Day of Ruin.
CHAPTER 1
CALMER DAYS
Long before then—long, long before the Day of Ruin unfolded—the magic-born Mjurran was off to spy on Rimuru and his town once again. Her master, the demon lord Clayman, had given the command right after she finished a delivery of a certain magic item. “Investigate these mystery magic-born,” he said. “Find any weaknesses we can exploit, and find me some intelligence we can utilize on the bargaining table.”
………
……
…
The report Mjurran gave him several months ago had been quite extensive. It covered the monster town Clayman was curious about, their level of cultural advancement, and the fact that Milim had apparently become friends with the enigmatic magic-born leading them. Said magic-born was a slime, as well as the masked figure Clayman had seen in previous reports. More important than that, however, was how the dryads, the overseers of matters across the Forest of Jura, had recognized this slime as the head of an alliance between them. They were now a kind of third power in the world, one neither human nor demon lord—and that made them difficult to touch.
Clayman didn’t hide his astonishment at the news of Milim’s new friend. The fact that this weak-sounding slime was the real identity behind that masked magic-born was surprising in itself, but Milim’s behavior was unfathomable. Unthinkable. Beyond the realms of imagination. The thought of a demon lord befriending some random magic-born off the street was the height of recklessness. It did nothing but confuse him.
Mjurran didn’t mind this. She was a regular person, and she long ago concluded there was simply no comprehending the thoughts of a demon lord. There were a couple of things…okay, many things about that demon lord’s behavior that gave her pause, to be honest. But it wasn’t her job to figure out what made them tick.
So she just reported everything she saw to Clayman and gave him the unvarnished truth. He rewarded her with a broad smile. “I see,” he said. “This could prove useful. A very fascinating story, indeed.”
It came as a relief to hear. Mjurran was glad her master was pleased, but above that, she had provided him with her ace in the hole—a crystal ball, the most important magic item there was. The information it contained documented the entire battle between Charybdis and this mystery magic-born, as well as a quick sample of Milim’s own strengths. It was a priceless asset, one that elated Clayman.
Not even this, however, was enough to make Mjurran a free woman. She needed to put in an even better performance or else Clayman would remain unsatisfied. She might not have been that useful to him, but she knew full well that Clayman was not the kind of man to let an upper-level magic-born go unchecked.
But it was still a major achievement. One that successfully earned her a decent amount of trust. And being granted a solo mission was perfectly suited to Mjurran, too. If she wanted to escape Clayman, any chance to prepare away from his prying eyes was perfect. And with the demon lord’s authority on her side, she had the ability to do what she wanted without checking in with him.
Back at the monster town, Mjurran continued her surveillance.
During the demon lord Milim’s stay, she had not once engaged in magical conversation with Clayman. She hadn’t used any magic at all in the region—in fact, she’d snuck into the town while holding her breath and restraining her aura as much as possible. For much the same reason, Clayman had not contacted her. Mjurran couldn’t have asked for much more.
Milim was aware of his presence now. True, she had to be more careful than ever. Fully realizing it might already be for naught, she made every effort to stay alert during her duties. Perhaps thanks to that, nobody else had noticed her.
After a while, Milim left the monster town. What could she be doing now, and where? That went beyond Mjurran’s orders to observe the magic-born and his people. There was no need to worry about it. Now Mjurran figured she could rest a bit, as much as her continued alertness made her hesitate. She ke
pt observing quietly—and to achieve this, she decided to take advantage of a group of humans who were now regular visitors to the town.
………
……
…
It was now several months since Mjurran had given her report to the demon lord Clayman. She had been active that whole time, but Clayman had never contacted her. She’d given a report when Milim left town, but his only reply was to carry on with her mission.
She could tell his interest in her was dwindling, and she decided some brash action was called for. She was here to gather intelligence, so she thought of ways she might be able to enter town. It was that group of humans who caught her eye first.
Slowly, carefully, Mjurran gathered her information. It told her this was an armed group that engaged in business within the monster town—a group that Rimuru, that mystery magic-born, was attempting to prop up as champions of mankind. Infiltrating this group would be the perfect approach, she thought. It’d let her enter town freely and with the perfect alibi.
So she put together a plan of action. As a former human, pretending to be non-magical was child’s play for her. Right now, she was beholden to Clayman for everything, but if it meant her freedom, she was ready to do virtually anything. If something could be exploited, exploit the hell out of it—such was her way of thinking. An approach that probably rubbed off on her from Clayman, as loath as she was to admit it.
Before long, she was off to the Kingdom of Farmus, the reported destination of the human party. “My,” she said with a sigh, “human towns have certainly advanced as of late.”
Mjurran had last been a human being several centuries ago. The only towns to speak of at the time were the capitals of kingdoms, where all the royalty lived. Beyond that, you had a few villages larger than the norm, and that was it. There simply hadn’t been a lot of humans around—not as many as now.
She stayed out of sight by habit as she walked around town, in search of a certain location—the local Free Guild branch, in this territory ruled by Nidol Migam, Earl of Migam. She found it just as the sun was about to dip under the horizon. Opening the door, she saw it was crawling with ruffians of all shapes and sizes. Thickly accented voices attempting to negotiate with the front-office brokers, voices yelling at one another in hopes of raising the sale price of their goods, happier voices bragging about the lofty achievements they scored today… The din almost made her feel dizzy, but she tried to tune it out, not wanting to use her magic for it.
Then Mjurran heard someone whistling at her. One of the ruffians, no doubt, sniffing out the fragrance she typically wore to mask the smell of blood.
“Hey, look! She’s a real beauty, eh?”
“Now this is a find. What’s a lovely lady like you doin’ in a place like this, huh?”
“See this creature I bagged today? I’m gonna sell it in a bit, so how ’bout you join me at the bar and we’ll drink on the profits, eh?”
…Ugh, what a pain, Mjurran thought as she wrinkled her nose. It was beyond her why she was such a target of attention around here. Thanks to living her life in seclusion, avoiding the company of others and focusing solely on her magic research, she was wholly indifferent to her outside appearance. But between the green-tinged silver hair, the blue eyes, and the calm demeanor, the consensus was clear: This was one beautiful woman. A beautiful woman who had just stepped into a Guild branch office packed with people just barely on the right side of the law. In the evening hours, no less. The furor was only to be expected.
“So? How ’bout it, eh?”
“Sorry,” she bluntly stated, “I’ve got some business to do.”
“Aw, don’t be like that,” the man countered. “Just come here ’n’ join me for a bit!”
“Lay off me, won’t you? I told you—I’ve got business.”
For a magic-born, Mjurran was more convivial with other people than most. But not even she was magnanimous enough to let a total stranger act like her best friend out of nowhere.
“Lay off? Hell, you just walk right in here ’n’ think you’re better than all of us?”
“Ahh, quit it, Isaak. You want the guild master to yell at ya again? This ain’t a tavern. Maybe she’s got a job for the Guild, huh?”
“Pfft. Yeah, yeah.”
The man called Isaak took a step back, his eyes still squarely upon Mjurran. She nodded her thanks to the man who had stopped him, then made a beeline for the service window.
“I’d like to register, please.”
“Registration? Will that be for a general-purpose member account, then?”
“No. As an adventurer. Umm…” Mjurran paused for a moment, thinking about which department to join—retrieval, exploration, or monster slaying. Then she remembered how she used to make a regular habit of picking and preparing medicinal herbs. “…The retrieval department, please.”
“Retrieval… All right. There’s a test required, so are you ready to take it?”
“I am. What do I have to do?”
“Well, please fill this out for us first.”
Mjurran did so, offering all the information needed for the Guild to provide her identification papers. Then Isaak decided to try his luck again.
“Whoa, whoa, a woman filing to become an adventurer? Like, you aren’t by yourself, lady, are ya? I could help with the exam if you like.”
He was grinning the whole time, but the question’s real purpose was more to intimidate the rest of the adventurers in the room than anything. Even if Mjurran decided to hire some bodyguards, it’d be harder for anyone else to accept the invite now that Isaak’s hat was in the ring. Doing so would instantly make Isaak your enemy, after all, and despite his attitude, Isaak had a pretty serious rep around this Guild.
In terms of pure strength, he was on the lower end of the C rank, but that still put him near the top of the membership roll in this rural branch. Anyone with real talent for this line of work usually set up shop in the larger cities, only traveling to the hinterlands if work demanded it. This, unfortunately, gave Isaak something of a mistaken impression of himself. He thought he was one of the big men around the village, and that meant nobody was allowed to defy him.
Oh, please. I don’t feel like getting involved with these yokels. Should I just kill him, maybe?
Ending his life here would cause serious problems, but killing him covertly wouldn’t warn the others to stay away from her. Mjurran saw no merit in voluntarily becoming a murder suspect. But what to do, then?
“Hmm. I think it’d be faster if I showed off some of my skills to you.” She turned back to the Guild agent, her voice calm and composed. “Hey—I changed my mind. Instead of retrieval, I’ll join the monster-slaying department. I can take that exam on-site, can’t I?”
The agent nodded.
A little while later:
“Hee-hee! This here’s the inn, lady!”
Isaak was scared so straight by the carnage Mjurran released that—without her asking—he became her underling.
A few days later, Mjurran was already part of the regular Guild crew, taking on work and living nearby—just as she had planned it. Yohm’s team, the armed group she was targeting, would be here soon. She was waiting for them.
Isaak, for his part, was proving to be a surprisingly devoted henchman, unwittingly helping her gather more intelligence. He was used to showing people around town, which helped Mjurran catch up on customers much more quickly than otherwise. He also happened to know a great deal about Yohm and his team, which was an unexpected bonus.
Good thing I didn’t kill him after all, she mused as Isaak came to her with some pressing news.
“They’re here, lady!”
Now it was time to proceed with her plan.
The scheme Mjurran devised was fairly simple.
She had asked Franz, master of the local Free Guild branch, to introduce her to Yohm. Her work performance over the past few days was already enough to make rumors about her skill spread far and wide. Franz himself was
a catalyst for this, given that he served as Mjurran’s test manager. At this point, nobody involved with the Guild was unfamiliar with her name any longer.
“I wish you’d stay with this branch permanently,” Franz even offered her. But that wasn’t part of her plans. All she wanted were those ID papers.
“I’m a pretty handy woman when it comes to magic, you know, so if this man is a true champion of the land, I would love the opportunity to serve him. I hear Sir Yohm has few magic-users among his team.”
“Ah, that’s a pity to hear. Still, you in Yohm’s party would help us out enormously, if indirectly. Very well. Rest assured that I will give you a glowing recommendation.”
Things seemed pretty well set in motion, then. Or so Mjurran thought.
Now she was holding her head in her hands.
Why did it turn out like this?
The introduction had gone well enough, at least.
“Huh? I already got a sorcerer and mysticist in Rommel and Jagi. What can some girl do for us beyond that? I’m fine, thanks!”
This out-of-hand denial riled Mjurran.
“Hmm. In that case, let me show you what an angry wizard can do.”
And she did. She, in so many words, beat the crap out of Yohm. This got her on the team, and for some reason, they were treating her as the number-two of the crew, a military adviser with the power to guide their direction, second only to Yohm himself. This put her up there with Yohm’s aide-de-camp, Kazhil, and staff officer, Rommel.
Ugh. I was hoping I could just pose as a shamaness and keep a lower profile in this group…
Maybe, Mjurran ruefully admitted to herself, she had a much shorter temper than she thought.
The day taught Yohm a lesson he had almost forgotten: Never judge a book by its cover.
They were in a largely deserted wood outside town. The only witnesses were Franz, who had introduced this woman Mjurran to him, and Isaak, a local petty adventurer.
