by Fuse
Just as he came up with this idea, several thousand soldiers died around him. If he moved right now, he’d just be targeted and shot down. It wouldn’t kill him, but attracting that monster’s interest wasn’t a good idea. So he chose to wait and see what unfolded, hoping it’d boost his survival chances at least a little bit.
Then he saw—and felt—it. The fear. Even Razen, with his intrinsic resistance to the emotion, was stricken with terror at the sight. Nearly ten thousand surviving soldiers had their lives snuffed out in a single instant.
He had never seen anything like that in his long life. This was beyond anything a champion or otherworlder could pull off. Even if he had a cornucopia of unique skills to choose from, he could never beat that monster. Calamity-class, indeed. Razen had thought of himself as equivalent to a demon lord in strength, but now he knew that was just wishful thinking.
What is that monster? he asked himself. I’ve never heard of such a thing… Isn’t the leader of the monster nation a slime?
His own heart didn’t break, for the simple fact that he was so driven to save the king he was loyal to. But Razen’s sole desire was not to be fulfilled. His presence had already been detected.
Had he resigned himself to death and attempted a kamikaze charge, maybe he could’ve defeated that monster if he was lucky. He wouldn’t have killed the thing, but he might’ve been able to save his king from the jaws of death. But Razen was too careful. And there were already plans for him.
A large wolflike monster was summoned to the scene, gingerly carrying the monster (which had turned from a human form into a slime) in its mouth. Using a pair of forked tails, it snatched up King Edmaris and Archbishop Reyhiem, placing them on its back before running off at extraordinary speed. All that remained were three Greater Demons.
Seeing the fearsome masked magic-born turn into a slime, Razen was both surprised and oddly convinced. I knew it. That really was their master. And deploying such great magic spells, one after the other, would easily exhaust his magical energies. If he summoned those demons to serve as bodyguards, then perhaps I will have a chance at rescuing the king…
He was half-right. The demons—in particular, that demon—had been summoned. To that one, Razen was nothing more than prey. A poor, forlorn piece of prey, left to live only so this demon could carry out his summoner’s request and be amply rewarded for it.
Figuring he could beat these three demons, Razen rose up from the shadows cast by the dead. Fortunately for him, the masked magic-born canceled the Anti-Magic Area as it cast the demon summon. Now Razen could fight with his full force. Whether they were ranked A or not, there was no way he could lose to only three Greater Demons.
Stretching out his body, he attempted to silently sneak up from behind one of them—only to find that the other two were already standing before him.
“…Oh? Spatial Motion, eh? I suppose you’ve all been serving as Greater Demons for quite a long time.”
The two demons didn’t answer him. They showed no signs of movement—they were ordered only to confine him for the demon who was leisurely walking up to the wizard.
Now that demon was alone, in front of Razen.
“Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh. Done with your stretching? In that case, it is time to capture you. If you wish to resist, go right ahead. I will not kill you, but I am not prohibited from tormenting you…”
The demon flashed a twisted, beautiful smile, its gender unclear as it addressed Razen.
“Oh? You’re here to take me on?”
“Take you on? Hee-hee-hee. Quite an amusing joke.”
“What are you calling a joke, you putrid demon?!”
“Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh. Very good,” the demon whispered, its expression still twisted. “This should be quite a bit of fun. Allow me to join you in a bit of post-meal calisthenics.”
Its smile was terror itself for anyone witnessing it—terror welling up from the root of the soul.
It looked toward the sky. Razen snorted at the creature. It thinks it’s so clever, trying to feint me with its eyes.
“Enough of your lip! Nuclear Cannon!”
Utilizing a spell he had precast earlier to save time, he used a simple trigger to set off his last resort. This method, however, ran the risk of an accidental discharge, meaning only wizards and similarly powerful magicians could execute it. The effect, however, was massive. Avoiding the casting time that was the central weakness of any magic-user was huge. From the get-go, Razen was doing what he needed for victory.
The magic he chose was of the nuclear-attack type, the greatest and most sinister of the aspectual magics. Against people, it was the strongest magic in the world. Demons required physical bodies in order to manifest themselves; destroy theirs and Razen was in the clear. They wouldn’t be gone for good, but they’d no longer be able to interact with this world. And before the intense heat this cannon produced, no demon could long continue to exist.
As far as Razen was concerned, victory was his at this point. But the white-hot rays from his surefire magic were bent away before they could reach the raised left hand of the demon, zooming straight toward a certain point in the sky.
“It…misfired? Dah, not now, of all…?!”
With magic prepared in advance like this, there was a very slim chance that the spell would lose its force and fail upon casting. Razen assumed this was what happened, at the worst time possible for him. He sulkily glared at the demon as he jumped backward and away.
“Hmm? That was an impressive piece of magic.”
“What did you say?! It’s pointless if the effect of it doesn’t work.”
“Ah. I see. If by ‘effect’ you mean you intended it to defeat me, I would advise you that relying upon magic will not achieve this for you.”
The demon seemed almost eerily confident as it addressed Razen. It got on his nerves greatly, but not even Razen could shake off the faint sense of impending doom in his mind.
“Oh, now you’ve said it! In that case, how about this one? Summon Spirit: War Gnome! Come to me, great spirit of the earth’s foundations!”
This was Razen’s trump card, the most powerful summon magic he had on hand, and he was ready to fight with it. He had summoned a high-level spirit, one ranked well beyond A. Only a Champion-level opponent would give this all-powerful creature any difficulty. A Greater Demon was no problem at all.
Replying to Razen’s call, the earth began to well up, forming the shape of a knight in solid-looking armor. Sensing the terrific force behind it, Razen finally began to feel confident and relieved. With a spirit of this caliber, he could even take on Arch Demons, the legendary creatures that ranked even above Greater Demons.
If that magic hadn’t failed to activate, I wouldn’t have had to break this out… But this demon irks me. I have a bad feeling about this. Best not to let my guard down here…
With this, Razen thought, no matter how much this opponent unnerved him, he’d be just fine. He intended this magic to mow down not just the demon before him but the other two behind him. Then he could finally set off to rescue King Edmaris.
But:
“I see; I see. Certainly, demons are strong against angels, angels against spirits, and spirits against demons. If selecting based on this three-way relationship, calling for a high-level spirit was the correct response. However…”
Even before the War Gnome Razen summoned, the demon was completely unfazed.
“…it is too young.”
When did it even move? Even with his senses turned up to maximum, Razen couldn’t trace the demon’s actions fast enough. A large hole opened up in the knight’s strong crystalline armor as a beautiful hand sliced through the spirit’s core, grabbed it, tossed it in its mouth, and chomped down upon it with a frightful crunch.
“There, you see?” The demon snickered at Razen. “It lacks experience that can only be accumulated over years. A puppet like that, nothing but pure strength, is a pushover for me.”
“You’re kidding! That was
a spirit! A greater spirit!!”
Having his trump card killed instantly put Razen in a state of near panic. Every fiber of his brain told him this was impossible. It just made no sense. A spirit easily the equal of a Greater Demon, not only facing difficulty but being wiped out in one shot.
“Enough magic,” the demon said kindly as Razen stewed. “I would like to test out more this body my summoner provided me, so let’s use a different tactic this time.”
The demon snapped its fingers, triggering a magic spell. For over a mile in radius around him, an Anti-Magic Area appeared.
“Now magic is no longer available to you. Feel free to attack me with your preferred physical strikes.”
Razen struggled to understand this. Huh? Why did it shut off the magic? Magic is any demon’s most powerful weapon… And it cast a great magic with no ritual? No spell chanting?! …Ah, but now’s not the time to think about that!
Shaking off the cobwebs, Razen stood on his toes, steeling himself. With Shogo’s body in hand, all of the otherworlder’s karate skills were his.
“Hnh!!”
With a light exhale, he focused himself and fired a fist at the demon, backing it up with a flurry of kicks. The Berserker unique skill let him pack the greatest punch possible, firing away at the demon with speed impossible to catch with the naked eye. It was a torrent of punches, a rain of kicks that could chop a large tree in two, and soon, they did their damaging work on the defenseless demon—
…Wait! No!
Every attack was neatly and cleanly dodged, as if all this was a pre-orchestrated karate demonstration. The demon wasn’t defenseless at all. It was weaving its way through every strike, using skills far beyond what Razen had access to.
Now, for the first time, Razen understood. He was too afraid to notice it at first, but now he was forced to accept it. The demon standing before him. The golden eyes and crimson pupils. The pale skin. The beautiful black hair, the streaks of red and gold within. The way it looked, unlike most demons, so close to a human being.
This was a higher class of demon—and, if anything, Razen’s blind pursuit of ultimate strength was his undoing. He had peered into the dark reaches of the world, pursuing the deepest recesses of magic. His eyes could coldly perceive his own strength, and even among the small clutch of superpowered fighters in the A ranks, he stood head and shoulders above them all. If he didn’t, the waves of terror the demon emitted would alone be enough to make him lose all will to fight—although perhaps that would’ve been a happier fate for him.
That demon’s knowledge, its strength, only worsened Razen’s mood. If he didn’t know—know that this was an Arch Demon at the very least, easily capable of destroying Greater Demons—he wouldn’t be this terrorized. The way the demon cast a great magic without a ritual or casting time—proof that it had reached an abyss even further below what Razen had descended to. That Nuclear Cannon strike wasn’t a misfire at all, and nothing else Razen threw at it worked because this foe was simply that far above Razen in strength.
If he didn’t have the kind of knowledge he did, Razen might never have noticed how unusual this demon’s strength was. But he had it.
Wait. Is this…a—a Primal…?
With his magic shut off, Razen had no means of escape. Despair painted his heart a deep shade of black.
What…what kind of horrifying beast did that monster grant a body to and unleash upon this world?!
If it didn’t have a physical body, at least, it would’ve returned to the demon realms sooner or later. But it was too late—mankind was now exposed to an unprecedented threat.
As Razen was struck by this terror, a sweet yet terrifying voice reached his ears.
“Have you had enough yet? In that case, it’s my turn.”
The moment he heard it, his legs shook like jelly as he lost control of his bladder. Now he understood everything, and he could no longer even think of resisting. His steel will was shattered, and in a single instant, his heart broke.
“Keff…keff… Ah, ah, ahhhhh…”
His terror was impossible to articulate. An Arch Demon was a calamity-level monster, a leadership role in their native realm. They were half-legendary, with only a small handful known to recorded history. Their power was said to rank A-plus, alongside that of higher-level spirits, and they were dangerous enough to even be considered sub–demon lords.
Even against such a dangerous presence, Razen would have been confident in the past that he could win. Over the past few centuries he’d spent protecting the great nation of Farmus, he had defeated an Arch Demon at least once, with the help of several companions. But this demon was different.
If…if this is one of the Primal Demons…
…then there was just no chance. Even escape was impossible.
Faced with despair, Razen crumpled to the ground, wailing at the reality this demon had unleashed upon him.
The demon looked disappointed as he watched him. “Oh? It’s over already?” he whispered.
The other two demons under his command scooped Razen up, resigned looks on their faces, and took him to the designated town. Their first job was done, and they wanted their master to praise them.
Before the eyes of Benimaru and the rest, Rimuru’s body repeatedly transformed itself from a slime to all kinds of irregular shapes. After a while, it calmed down, settling into its usual droplet form—but then it began to glow, eerily flickering on and off. Red, blue, yellow, green, purple, white, black, all kinds of colors.
This went on for a while. Everyone there was starting to lose all sense of time. And after who knows how much of it had passed, the echoes of the World Language resonated in their worried hearts.
Report. The individual Rimuru Tempest’s Harvest Festival is now complete. Monsters in his genealogy will now begin to receive their gifts.
Then they, too, were greeted with intense exhaustion.
“Ngh! What is going on?”
“Ah…?! Is this our gift? I feel more connected to Sir Rimuru than ever!”
Benimaru, Shuna, and the other monsters couldn’t hide their surprise. Now Benimaru realized that Rimuru’s evolution was successfully completed—and it was their turn. Nobody expected this kind of fatigue to arise. The less resistant among them began to fall into a deep sleep. But Benimaru had a promise with Rimuru. He couldn’t afford to fall that easily.
He did his best to fight off the tiredness. And as he did, Rimuru’s body began to shine brightly before him. When the light faded, there stood a fetching figure with long, smooth silver hair flowing in the wind.
It was Rimuru, with his mask off, looking a little taller than before. He still didn’t have any physical gender, sadly, but Benimaru couldn’t help but feel a little smitten anyway.
Report. Leave the rest to me and enjoy your slumber.
The soft voice whispered against his mind. It gave Benimaru inner peace; he had nothing with which to defy it. So he let the voice guide him into an irresistible sleep.
As he watched this unfold, the figure with Rimuru’s form checked to see if anyone else was awake.
………
……
…
Mjurran looked quizzically at all the people falling asleep around her. One by one, they fell like flies—and now, there was nobody else awake.
The humans and dwarves left in town had all been moved into buildings away from the central plaza. The amount of magicules in the vicinity had grown beyond what most humans could withstand, so they were forced to evacuate the scene. Elen would build a barrier over them, no doubt, as she monitored the proceedings. Yohm and his friends stayed there until the end to protect Mjurran, but they were gone over to Kabal and his gang now, carrying the king of Farmus and the Holy Church archbishop Ranga had brought over. By now they should be fully in Kabal’s custody, unable to escape.
It was a good excuse for Yohm to leave, Mjurran thought, given that he could hardly take being in that magicule field any longer. If it wasn’t for that,
he probably would’ve stayed right next to her until he died. It gladdened her to know that, even though she knew it was stupid of him. Of course, she wouldn’t actually say that to the man. If she did, Yohm would no doubt let it go to his head and do something even stupider.
It was, in other words, evidence that Mjurran wanted Yohm to be safe above all. But it also meant Mjurran was the last person standing in the plaza.
………
……
…
The Rimuru-like figure gauged this situation, eyes emotionless. Then, seeing Mjurran and assuming there were no issues, he opened his arms wide, the long silver hair pushed back and emitting a light that shone like angel’s wings.
Report. By the name of Raphael, Lord of Wisdom, I command Belzebuth to consume all the magicules within this barrier. Do not leave even a single soul fragment behind.
With those words, Belzebuth was activated, a villainous force unleashed upon the world—but one used for a certain goal, tracing each of the results Raphael calculated. Every magicule within the barrier covering the town was absorbed, converting the atmosphere back into pure air. Then the barrier itself was neatly eaten up, and then Belzebuth was halted. It was as if nothing had ever happened to this space at all.
This was Raphael, the figure that took the form of Rimuru, the apparently soulless master. And even now, the Lord of Wisdom was edging his way closer to Shion. Bringing his hands forward, he began to cast Analyze and Assess—carefully, with every intention of making his master’s hopes come true.
………
……
…
Mjurran watched slack-jawed as all this unfolded. The barrier they had all built over the town was devoured instantly, which was a threat in itself, but beyond that:
…This just can’t be!!
The skill had engaged in its own actions, without the will of its master. She could understand if it had been ordered to do so beforehand, but it didn’t seem that way here. This figure seemed closer to a spirit than a monster.
