“Mmm, sorry, I dunno. I’m not too interested in him,” Ultima said plainly. “But if you’re that curious, why don’t you ask him yourself?”
She made it sound so casual. Hakuro nodded his agreement.
“You’re right. I suppose I was overthinking it.”
“Ah, yeah, that’s an easy habit to fall into. But you better think about that later, huh? The battle’s more important right now. You don’t want Sir Rimuru yelling at you, do ya?”
With a final word or two of thanks, Ultima flew off into the sky once more. Hakuro, watching her go, had a bit of a confused look on his face.
“Heh-heh! Ah, look at me. I keep telling people not to let distractions seize your mind in battle, but it seems I need to work on that myself! Best make up for this error as quickly as I can…”
Then he drew his blade, ready to rule the battlefield as the Sword Ogre.
Major General Farraga was stunned by the scene before him. His fortresses in the sky boasted unstoppable defense, thanks to a network of barriers overseen by teams of elite magicians, but now one of them had been shot down by a single blow from a monster.
According to an investigation conducted by the Imperial Intelligence Bureau, this was an uncommon race of creature known as the dragonewt. It essentially had the fighting power of a humanoid dragon, but what Farraga saw happen before him was something well beyond that description.
“Who is that freak?! What kind of bad intel did the IIB send me?!”
Were they sending him falsified intel in order to take a wizard like him down? The thought occurred to him, but not even he could swallow that one.
No, that couldn’t be. Those guys literally transformed before my eyes. Is this the morphological change seen in some monsters, like in the book my master wrote…?
It has been said that certain monster races could freely change between two forms at will—one suitable for everyday life and another geared more for battle. The dragonewts they were fighting now were an evolved form of lizardmen, with wings giving them flight and breath attacks that came in a variety of elements. They were a B-level threat as a monster, and while you didn’t want to pick a fight with one for no reason, they weren’t a major threat to an airship.
…Or they shouldn’t have been. But this was different.
“What could be going on?”
Farraga turned to his aide, helplessly confused as he tried to reconcile their intel with the reality before him.
“I’m deeply sorry, sir. According to a report from the person who measured the energy values of the enemy monster, the statistics rise greatly after the transformation. They discovered that the final value is several times the standardized level for an A rating.”
“Several times… So over an A? And they’re completely immune to magic on top of that?!”
Despite Farraga’s ranting on the subject, he didn’t quite have it right. Gabil’s force boasted very high Resist Magic defense, but they weren’t impervious to it. A hypothetical Cancel Magic wasn’t in their repertoire. It was just that the airships’ magic attacks weren’t strong enough to break the Multilayer Barriers protecting them.
“I hate to admit it, but from the situation at hand, I can only assume that. Our magic attacks aren’t working…and the enemy’s magic is shooting down our airships, our pride and joy…”
I can see that for myself, Farraga wanted to say. But he held back, trying to keep a cool head. There was nothing to fear from a flock of a hundred or so dragonewts. No matter how excellent their armor was, he thought, it couldn’t be a match for the Empire’s most advanced weapons. When those three hundred wyverns fled, he believed victory was assured—well, no. Honestly, Farraga felt uneasy about it. Maybe it was his many years of battle experience, but something was giving him an unpleasant premonition, and he didn’t like it.
So my hunch was right, then? But for now, we need to come up with countermeasures first.
With that in mind, Farraga turned his attention to the battlefield anew.
“If we’re talking explosive growth, then each one of them’s a high-level magic-born equivalent. A Hazard-level threat or maybe even a Calamity if we’re unlucky. Do I have that right?”
“Yes, sir! That’s what I heard from our analysts.”
“Abominable. Sheerly abominable. If magic worked on them, even an A ranker could be handled well enough. So what about the one in the leader role?”
“Th-that…”
“What? What is it?”
“Ah… Sorry, sir! Allow me to brief you.”
The aide faltered a bit as he looked at the report, but one glare from Farraga, and he resumed reading it to him. What Farraga heard made him want to cringe.
“…Over ten times? Are they sure about that?”
“It’s true, sir. There were no malfunctions in the measuring devices. That particular individual has over ten times the energy of any of the others there.”
“How…?”
Farraga was speechless. Even Gadora, who had gone through the cycle of reincarnation many times to build his powers, couldn’t achieve such an absurd amount of magic force. This level was more along the lines of a demon lord.
“There was nothing about this particular monster in the IIB documents. He did not participate in the battle tournament the monsters held, so his fighting force is apparently unknown.”
“According to one spy we sent in,” another aide added, “this one was making a presentation about medicinal herbs at the event instead. He had some interesting things to say, but now that I think about it, perhaps that was their way of hiding a Disaster-level threat from the world.”
Farraga, listening to his aides express their opinions, concluded that it had to be true. What they saw just now truly was a transformation. They had kept their forces under wraps to catch the enemy off guard, and now that they knew the airships were basically armed with nothing but magic, they revealed their true selves. They really got one over on us, he thought.
“Gentlemen, calm down. We’re fighting monsters here, and if we are, you all know that our victory remains unassailable. No matter who our foe is, we simply need to launch our magic cancelers at full blast, and they’ll all be pinned down!”
Dragonewts might be a rare species, and those with transformation skills even rarer, but that didn’t make them unbeatable. The airships were powerful, cherished weapons, developed for use against Veldora. Use their magic cancelers, the true showstopper among all their advantages, and not even the dragon family was worth breaking a sweat over.
Even now, their magic cancelers were in effect and covering a wide area around them, including at ground level. But they were operating at something of a trial run; only for the fight against Veldora would they be turned up all the way and focused on a single point. The bodies of monsters were made up of magicules; disrupt the magicules in the air around them, and they’d inevitably slow down. And if these disruptive waves could be concentrated in a smaller way, they could render any sort of monster helpless.
“Right away, sir!”
As his aides hurriedly sprang into action, Farraga tried to grasp the battle situation. Save for their leader, the dragonewts were forming teams of five in the air. Twenty of their airships were currently engaged in battle with them, and fewer than ten ships in their fleet had been taken down. There was still plenty of room to recover.
“Major General, we’re ready to fire. But in our current position, we’ll lose some of our own allies to the cannon blast…”
“So?”
“…O-oh. Never mind, sir.”
“Then get on with it!”
“Yes, sir!”
What would happen if you shot magic cancelers on an airship that stayed aloft on magical force? It was obvious—without the magical effect upon it, the airship would follow the laws of physics right to the ground. The crew would be wiped out, including the magicians who looked up to Farraga, their old companion in the Magic Division. But despite that, Farraga gave the order without batting an eye.
“Begin irradiation…now!”
The remaining ships set off, circling around Gabil’s forces and the airships they were currently engaged in battle with—then, one after another, they fired their cancelers from their bows. The airships they targeted began to fall downward…along with the dragonewts in combat.
I’m sorry…but this is a necessary sacrifice.
Farraga prayed silently, eyes wide open as the fallen airships hit the ground and burst into flames. There was no way the crew, to say nothing of the demons caught up in it, were safe.
“Well done. Now the only thing that remains is the special one among them.”
“And even if magic doesn’t work on it, the shock wave and the heat are beyond anything it could take.”
“It was a great sacrifice…but a small price to pay for taking out a hundred upper-level magic-born.”
A hint of relief washed over the aides. But it was Farraga who rained on their parade.
“Don’t rest easy yet. Sacrificing your compatriots is nothing to be proud of! And we haven’t finished off that one individual yet!”
The words made the aides stiffen.
The demon lord–class individual had been frozen in the air, but its wings were still intact and keeping it in the sky. With more than twenty airships now destroyed, there was no way they could let it escape.
“If it were only the flightless Gobta of the Big Four, we wouldn’t have had any of this trouble…”
“Indeed. We, in tandem with Gaster’s tank force, could have broken down even the strongest of defenses.”
“But this guy here is pinned down by the magic canceler. If we keep irradiating him, it has to tear his body apart sooner or later.”
“We can’t be certain of that. Our analysts are still conducting observations, but the individual’s energy values are falling only minimally.”
Hearing this exchange between his aides made Farraga feel a sudden chill in his core. We’re exposing it to magic cancelers from over seventy airships at once, and all we can do is pin it down?! So trying to weaken him is meaningless altogether?!
As much as he couldn’t believe it, Farraga felt this called for rethinking his strategy. This, he knew, was a whole new dimension of strength. Focusing all their magic cancelers only just stopped his movements. Maybe they could weaken it with time, but he had no idea there was another monster on the level of Veldora like this.
This guy has to be more trouble than Gobta of the Big Four… But wait!
At that moment, Farraga suddenly had a flash of inspiration. Maybe this individual here was Veldora, the exact target they had been looking for. The thought sounded enticingly convincing to him.
“Ah-haaa… If this is Veldora…then that explains the off-the-charts energy readings.”
Before he knew it, his mouth was speaking by itself. His aides had a wealth of reactions to it.
“Oh… So being newly freed from his seal, maybe he’s too weakened to even maintain his dragon form?”
“Weakened? He’s got all this power, and you call that weakened? Even his squadron had powers comparable to dragons. In fact, we’ve even tracked a few of them approaching the level of an Arch Dragon.”
“That’s right,” said Farraga. “That, my friends, is the horror of Veldora. He defeated the imperial army once before; my master Gadora told me the story. And even after being sealed away for three hundred years, he’s still that strong. Hard to even imagine what he was like pre-seal, isn’t it?”
His aides nodded approvingly as they listened.
“Yes, with that much power, no wonder the army of Farmus never stood a chance.”
“The major general is right. I’m pretty convinced this is Veldora.”
Most of the people in the room agreed, but some still had their doubts.
“Excuse me, Major General. According to our documents, the name of the dragonewt leader is Gabil…”
“That’s an alias, you,” said Farraga, laughing it off. “We’ve all heard about how Veldora’s power has waned after being sealed off. He’s just trying to keep a low profile until he regains his true fighting strength.”
With that much assurance, the questioning aide had no choice but to back down.
“It’s…rather unheard of for a monster to take an alias. But if any would, it’d be Veldora, perhaps?”
There were still assorted things he didn’t agree with Farraga on, but instead he forced himself to see things his way. And once word spread among the crew that Veldora was the individual they were pitted against, the officers’ faces all lit up with joy.
“It’s terrible that we lost thirty percent of our valued airships, but if that was against Veldora, it’s hardly anyone’s fault!”
“If anything, it’s a stroke of good luck. We needed to be on the lookout for the wide-ranging attack that defeated Farmus. Good thing we blocked him off with our magic cancelers as early as we did.”
Yes, Farraga thought. Veldora’s trapped in the cancelers, unable to move. Keep draining him of his strength, and it’ll be far easier to kill him.
Now, out of nowhere, he had completed the biggest coup of this whole operation. Slowly, deliberately, Farraga chewed on his good fortune.
“Is the output on the cancelers all right?”
“No problems, sir. Stable eighty percent.”
“How much longer until it reaches maximum power?”
“Estimated under an hour, sir. At this rate, it’s all we can do to pin him down, but little by little, Veldora’s physical disintegration has begun. I think it’ll be effective enough for us.”
“Veldora has an hour to live, then? Good. More than enough time for Gaster to finish seizing the ground war.”
His aides were excellent. Without a word, they understood Farraga’s intentions and worked with their analysts to provide him the needed updates. At the drop of a hat, they were reviewing their operation and identifying potential problems. In an hour, they concluded, Gobta of the Big Four should be suitably routed. Fusing with that wolf monster made him a formidable force, but it still lost out to Veldora. If Gaster’s tank battalion put their minds to it, it wouldn’t be too hard to defeat him.
“If it’s Veldora and his kin, then no wonder magic didn’t work. But the goddess of victory has smiled upon us! Just sit back, relax, and the Empire’s long-held dream will be granted!”
Now fully convinced, Farraga focused on rallying his soldiers’ morale.
Victory was in the air across the bridge.
“Let’s get some wine ready.”
“Good idea. Something special this time. A nice four-hundred-year-old vintage, perhaps, please.”
“Yes, the perfect wine to toast the Empire’s vindication. The lees should settle within an hour.”
“Very good. Let’s go with that, then.”
“…Oh! Can I have some, too?”
The beautiful girl, her long bluish-purple hair in a side ponytail, had sat herself down in the aide’s seat next to Farraga.
Since when was she here?! And not just that…
She was in a full military uniform, one that didn’t suit her age at all—but despite its abject formality, it only enhanced the girl’s cute looks.
Farraga quickly regretted his carelessness. The sheer certainty of his victory had left him too relaxed. And not just him—all the other aides and officers on the bridge were the same. The girl must’ve wound her way through all those mental gaps to make her way in here.
“Who are you?!”
Where did this intruder come from? And what did she want? She was almost certainly foe, not friend, but Farraga doubted she’d give an honest answer.
“Oh, I can’t have any? Then I guess tea’s fine instead. I’ve had a busy day as an observer, so I’m good and parched.”
The rest of the bridge turned to see the mystery person Farraga was addressing. Their eyes went wide in astonishment when they spotted her. They had barriers in operation both inside and outside the ship, and nothing about this girl was detected in advance. And so there she was, sitting there like she always belonged on that seat.
“I said, who are you?”
Farraga slowly stood up and turned toward the girl. He accentuated his question by pointing a gun at her. The girl kept smiling, seemingly not threatened at all. And it wasn’t a threat. Not for her.
“You wanna know who I am? My name’s Ultima. That name’s super important—Sir Rimuru himself gave it to me!”
This was Violet, the Original Purple and one of the most powerful, balance-breaking presences on the planet.
Farraga calmly observed this Ultima, trying to assess her capabilities. Reasoning conversation would be an effective means to this, he spoke up.
“Ultima? Never heard of you.”
“No? Wow, you’re pretty ignorant. I came here ’cause I wanted to ask some questions, but maybe I oughtta ask somebody else.”
“What?”
“Look… You guys are all gonna die soon, y’know. So I want you to tell me about some stuff before that happens!”
She delivered that explanation with a sweet, innocent smile. Seeing this conjured feelings within Farraga that were difficult for him to describe. If he had to compare it to something, it’d be like when he encountered a high-ranked Imperial Guardian for the first time, those absolute presences. If anything, Ultima was putting even more choking pressure on him than that.
Are you telling me…that I’m being pressured? By this girl? I’m actually afraid of her?!
Farraga doubted his own instincts. But the fact was that if this girl Ultima broke into an airship by herself, she had to be absolutely extraordinary. This was, no doubt, a major emergency. He guessed what she was after, then realized how obvious it was. Veldora, still held captive, was outside the observation window, a sight that symbolized the total victory of the Empire. The monsters must be absolutely frantic, and they’d likely try anything to get Veldora back.
Ultima? I can’t believe I’m shuddering under the thrall of this monster the IIB knew nothing about. This must be their top fixer of sorts. A top-level monster, serving Veldora directly.
Definitely a top officer, one named only recently. She looked as human as they came on the outside, but it was impossible to put into words just how horrifyingly evil her aura was. He didn’t know who she was, but Farraga, luckily, knew a monster with an aura like that. Gadora, his master, had been conducting fervent research on them.
So Farraga pointed his gun at Ultima.
“I’ve got it. You’re a demon, aren’t you?”
“Wow, good job! You’re right.”
Of course I am, he thought, chuckling to himself. With this level of evil spirit, she definitely had to be a high-ranking Arch Demon—one both physically incarnate and named. A true monster, through and through. The big open question at the moment was her rank.
She’s definitely noble, no doubt about that. Medieval or lower would be preferred, but if we’re talking Ancient, we might have some problems…? No. We can stop a demon’s special skills in this space. And a demon without magic is hardly anything to fear!
Farraga began secretly giving instructions to his subordinates. His orders: to point their magic canceler at the ship’s interior. It’d shut down their magic amplifier cannon, disarm their spellguns, and turn the magicians in the crew into plain old helpless people. But that was exactly what Farraga wanted. Block off a monster’s magicules, and the threat was gone—and the same was true for demons, too. Just take care of that stop, and the magic a demon fights with is off the table.
If you were waging a magic battle against an Arch Demon, all the sorcerers in the world couldn’t give you a chance at victory. It was much better to create a position of superiority for yourself to start with, increasing your odds of coming out on top.
Keeping his gun in everyone’s sight, Farraga surreptitiously put a hand on the saber at his waist. Then he kept talking, endeavoring to keep Ultima’s attention.
“I’m surprised Veldora wrangled up a demon assistant like you.”
“Huh? Sir Veldora?”
“Heh-heh-heh… No need to hide it. What other reason would you have for being here, apart from coming to your lord’s rescue?!”
“Um, no? I am the faithful servant of Sir Rimuru!”
The servant of the demon lord Rimuru? Come on. She’s clearly here to rescue Veldora.
No, he had never received any briefings that indicated Veldora had people working for him. Whether she served Veldora or a demon lord, that was just a triviality.
“My pardons. So you’re here to save Veldora, aren’t you?”
“What are you talking about? I just told you I’m here to ask some questions. Don’t you listen to people?”
Somehow, they didn’t seem to be on the same page.
Is she bluffing? I don’t see the point of hiding it, but what the hell does she want…?
Farraga began to get a vague sense of uneasiness, as if he was wrong about something. Like he was making some kind of big mistake…
“…So what do you want to ask me?”
Ultima smiled, like she had been waiting for this all day. Then with that same smile still on her face:
“Well, how this ship works and how to control it, for one. That’s pretty important. Also, the remaining military forces in the Empire. Like, how many really strong guys do you have and stuff like that—as much as you know, okay?”
Her innocent attitude felt like nothing but disrespect to Farraga.
If she’s messing with me, then fine. I’ll admit she’s kind of a trickster, but what can one person do?
He still had his concerns, but that was how he truly felt. All their preparations would be done soon, and they had the perfect counter to deal with a demon.
Out the corner of his eye, he saw a signal that everything was ready. Their victory was now assured. Farraga regained his composure.
“Heh-heh-heh… You think I’m just going to give that to you?”
“No, not really, but I guess that doesn’t really matter. Got my tea ready yet? I’ve kinda been waiting awhile.”
“I’ve got something even better than tea for you!”
As if shaking off any remaining hesitation, Farraga pulled the trigger. The bullet flew away, signaling the start of battle—and just as it did, the magic cancel came into effect across the airship.
The weapon in Farraga’s hand was not a spellgun. It was a Colt Government 1911, a military-grade semiautomatic pistol manufactured by the Colt firearms company in the US. It was an antique, brought over here by an otherworlder, and Farraga cherished it so much that he never missed a day of maintenance on it. It was loaded with a seven-plus-one round, and its nickname of Hand Cannon came from its use of large-caliber bullets, specially made at great expense.
But this Colt was only a diversion. As a spiritual life-form, basic weapons meant nothing to a demon anyway. An incarnated demon might have felt a little pain, but that was it.
With a deft hand, Farraga released the safety and fired off its full array of bullets. He had no optimism about gunning her down with them. Only those with a death wish would look down on an Arch Demon like that…and as soon as the sound stopped, Farraga saw he was right. Ultima was seated in her chair, not a care in the world, as she lifted up her left hand and let eight bullets drop to the floor. He didn’t know how she did that without magic, but the bullets were drained of their kinetic energy, and Ultima’s hand was unhurt.
“That’s a pretty fun-looking toy you got there…but I like the one Sir Rimuru has more.”
“Oh yeah? Well, this one’s my favorite.”
The results were honestly more disappointing than expected, but they didn’t surprise Farraga. Holstering his gun, he then took out the saber on his hip. This was a magic saber, but it still retained its powers even with a magic canceler influencing it. Using Farraga’s own magic force to keep a steady flow of magicules running inside the blade, it could produce an even greater effect than a magic Aura Sword–infused blade. Magic swords worked against demons, he knew—that, and if he could destroy this physical body of hers, she’d never be able to withstand the magic canceler.
Off to the demon world with you!
Farraga was a wizard but also a talented swordfighter. He didn’t go out of his way to show that off, but he was proud to say that he was as good as any famous swordfighter out there. That was why, even in this magic-blocked environment, Farraga could keep calm.
Ultima, too, remained unfazed despite the magic canceler doing its work on her. That, Farraga coldly assumed, was fake bravado, and he wasn’t about to let his foe’s performance fool him.
“So how’s it feel to have all your fancy magic blocked?” Farraga sneered.
“?” Ultima responded with a puzzled expression.
“Heh-heh-heh… Getting impatient, aren’t you? Well, this little chat is over, accursed demon!”
The air around Farraga changed, an invisible thread of tension stretched out between him and Ultima.
“Huh… You wanna go?” Ultima asked.
“Of course. What kind of dimwit would ever make a deal with the devil?”
“Dimwit? Hey, um… Are you talking about me?”
“Who else, you fool? Can’t you understand that? Let me tell you one thing. You want to know who’s strong in this Empire? Well, I’m one of them!”
Taking advantage of Ultima’s brief reply, Farraga thrust his saber into the air. It was a master-level stab technique aimed at Ultima’s heart, a true finisher that not even a magic-born could evade.
But:
“Then I’ll kill you last.”
Farraga heard a voice behind him. His killing blow didn’t even touch Ultima in her seat—instead, it went right through the chair, putting a hole in it. Shockingly, the girl had somehow gone from being right in front of him to right behind him. That was the unbelievable truth Farraga had to face.
“If you don’t wanna have a conversation, that’s fine. I’m still gonna have you answer my questions, though. But don’t worry. You don’t have to say anything. I’ll just take the knowledge from you myself.”
With an innocent smile, Ultima looked around at the soldiers and officers watching her. Then in a horribly chilling voice, she said:
“Okay, let’s start with you first.”
“…What?”
Farraga quickly spun around. Some kind of round mass flew past his side before slamming against the wall, leaving a stain. It was a human head. One of his now-dead aides fell to the floor, then began convulsing, as if he forgot he was supposed to do that until just that moment.
“What on…?!”
“Well, he didn’t know much, did he? Okay, let’s keep going.”
With that, she randomly ripped off the head of another officer, played with it a bit in her fingers for a few seconds, then discarded it. This was now a process—and one she began to repeat with a steady rhythm, leaving a growing pile of corpses behind her. Now the bridge was transformed into a hellscape of shrieking and terror.
“T-turn the magic canceler up to maximum! Contact the other ships and have them focus their sights on our flagship!”
The magicians in attendance were panicking, but Farraga’s demands brought them back to their senses. Hurriedly, they followed the orders and sprang into action.
“Is this magic canceler your new weapon and stuff? It sends out random commands to local magicules to inhibit magic casting, doesn’t it? Yeah, I’m sure that works on lots of monsters, but um…did you think it’d work on me?”
Ultima asked that question with just the most adorable head tilt. It was greeted with a near scream from Farraga:
“You’re bluffing! Don’t think you can bluff your way out of this!”
“Mmm, I dunno about that. I mean, if I was a mystic beast built up from magicules, then yeah, I feel that’d have a pretty good effect. But don’t you think it’s kind of a waste of time to point that at me if I’ve already incarnated into this body?”
“What…?”
“Besides, maybe it’d be a different story with a lower-level demon, but not a high-end one, y’know? Because when we’re conscious, magic just kinda happens naturally with us, like you guys and breathing. Like this, see?”
With that, Ultima disappeared. At the same time, the head of the communications officer sitting at the end of the command deck flew off. Ultima had completed the job in an instant.
“Did you see that? All I did was move a bit, and it sent that man’s head up in the air. I was going faster than the speed of sound, but you didn’t feel any sonic boom, did you? That’s magic, y’know. And also…”
Ultima gave her hand a little shake. Her fingertips seemed to blur for a bit, as if in a haze. Then with the sound of something wet whapping into a hard object, the head of the aide standing next to Farraga burst apart.
“You see? If I want a shock wave, it’s easy. All I have to do is follow the laws of physics, and ta-daa.”
It was such an innocent way to calmly describe an atrocious act. She felt no guilt about it whatsoever.
“No,” Farraga muttered to himself. Now he was finally understanding her. The common sense he had spent his life developing got in the way of comprehending any of this. It was such a strange feeling, like she was speaking a language from some faraway foreign nation. His instincts refused to accept it.
Was…? Was she really an Arch Demon?
Even after all this time, Farraga was still pondering the true identity of Ultima. In terms of actual strength, Farraga was a good match for an Arch Demon—but a lot depended on age. A newborn one, he could beat all by himself. Against an Ancient one or older, that’d be too much for him, but a lesser noble Medieval in age or younger, well, he thought he had a sporting chance.
So what was all this about? They had this magic canceler that could keep even Veldora himself pinned down and helpless, but it wasn’t working for them at all. And even if Ultima (as this named demon called herself) was physically incarnated, her strength was simply extraordinary. That’s what threw Farraga’s common sense for a loop so badly.
Now he understood that he had no hope at all of beating Ultima, no matter how much he struggled. So he wasted no more time playing his final move against her.
“Don’t get cocky with me, demon! Summon Spirit: Ifrit! Come to me, elemental of the primordial flames!!”
It was the most powerful of summon spells, offered only to champion-level casters. Farraga alone couldn’t master that arcane art, but with the magic amplifier cannon on this ship and fifty magicians helping out, it was now possible. Magic cancelers had only a tiny effect on spirits, which is why such a summoning could even be successful.
With a mighty roar, Ifrit materialized on the bridge, thoroughly trashing it. If the spirit was high-level enough to outrank the demon, even an Arch Demon could be obliterated. Farraga was sure of it as he turned toward Ultima.
“I’ll admit it—you’re a menace! But we’ve been studying demons for a long, long time, and we’re well prepared for them! Sorry, my friend, but it’s over for you!!”
Even with Farraga’s strained voice ringing in her ears, Ultima kept smiling. And for the first time in his life, Farraga learned just how awful a smile could really be.
You’re kidding me. It can’t be. There’s no way she can beat the Ifrit I summoned!!
The Ifrit Farraga summoned had been granted the power of fifty magicians working through an amplifier cannon. That made it several times stronger than regular high-level spirits, and whether she was Ancient or Prehistoric, no Arch Demon could ever beat him.
And yet Farraga’s fear persisted.
“Don’t get carried away just because you summoned that small fry. You really should’ve started talking while I was still giving you a nice, friendly smile. Now I’m gonna give you nothing but despair.”
Ah, it’s over.
That was the immediate thought, the instinct, in Farraga’s mind. And the next moment, right before him and the surviving bridge crew, Ifrit, the embodiment of absolute power, froze and shattered into a million pieces. It was the elemental magic Cocytus, and Ultima had just launched it without any casting time, as simple as breathing.
“Ah, ah…”
“N-nooo! She’s a monster!!”
“What was that? What was that?!”
The poor fools were all crying for what was likely the last time, in a state of complete panic. It was a natural reaction to have. The living personification of death was standing before them.
“Okay! Now, back to question time!”
Ultima’s voice—you could almost describe it as cheery—was the last thing all those souls ever heard.
A few minutes later, a beaming Ultima chuckled to herself. She had acquired everything she wanted to know, and she was delighted with it all.
She couldn’t quite glean every single piece of knowledge from them, but to Ultima, reading people’s brain waves for information was a snap. She was an intelligence officer, and bringing back information was part of her mission. If she did a good job at it, she knew her master Rimuru would be pleased. I sure hope he gives me some praise, she thought.
Then he turned toward the last survivor in the room. This was Farraga; he was the only one Ultima had missed amid all this despair, and she sure didn’t skip him out of any kind of mercy.
“And since you called me a fool, I’m going to give you the biggest scare of all! And I bet you’ll survive it if you try hard enough, so let’s see what you can do, okay?”
Upon whispering that, Ultima activated a spell. Jet-black flames the size of a fist rose above her left hand.
“Oh, oh, oh…”
Farraga recognized it: an abyss core, a kind of uncontrollable hellfire that was the by-product of activating a certain other magic… Or maybe it was controllable all along, and Farraga just didn’t know how. He knew that three members of the Seven Days Clergy, the champions of humankind, could manage it.
But the abyss core Ultima just conjured up was more than a level larger than the one the Seven Days could create. He might not have known how it worked, but one look, and even he could understand how much of a tactical-level threat this was.
Ultima casually tossed it in the air.
“Okay, have fun! Bye now!”
And without another word, she walked away from the bridge.
Farraga, left to himself, was stunned.
The question of what Ultima really was no longer mattered to him. As soon as he caught that abyss core, he realized he was at the end of his life. Instinctively, he understood that he’d never be able to control it—and that understanding was correct. Even his full power was meaningless against it.
The fire that had left Ultima’s control expanded, multiplied, and spread forward, as if mocking his worthless efforts. Just as Ultima took off, the dark ball of fire engulfed the flagship. Then it grew even bigger, swelling to a gigantic size and triggering an explosion. It was now a Nuclear Flame, the ultimate in destructive magic, and Farraga was in the middle of it.
“Beautiful… This is it… The magnum opus of all magic…”
With a look of ecstasy on his face, he let the dark flames scorch his body. Soon, it had evaporated, letting his very soul taste the pain of being burned alive.
Master… Master Gadora… Have you ever gotten to experience this miracle?
No, he decided. He couldn’t have. Farraga understood that magic canceler–driven interference wouldn’t matter if it could be dominated by someone with strong enough thought waves. This beautiful destruction, the one giving Farraga such a sublime sense of despair, was all the proof he needed.
And so, biting back the despair and enormous gratefulness of being surrounded by the ultimate in magic, Farraga’s life came to a close.
Thanks to the destructive Nuclear Flame, the Flying Combat Corps led by Farraga had been thoroughly crushed. Not a trace of it was left. The superheated flames caused most of the initial damage, followed by the secondary shock wave from the explosion. The flagship itself was vaporized by a core of unimaginable heat, while the surrounding ships exploded and scattered to the four winds, their hulls turning into lethal shrapnel. The larger fragments, hurtling downward beyond the speed of sound, caused incredible damage all by themselves.
With that explosion, the outcome was set in stone. Only the very first ship to fall from the sky remained in any recognizable form. All the others were ripped apart by the chain of explosions that were the day’s climax.
Thus, the Flying Combat Corps, the golden child of the imperial military, suffered the disgrace of being completely wiped away from existence well before it even caught a whiff of Veldora.
Ultima was now flying away from the flagship, her interest in Farraga now gone from her mind. She turned to look at the swelling fireball, giving it a satisfied nod. Recalling Rimuru’s order to go at full power, she wondered if she should’ve turned it up a notch after all but thought better of it. That would have killed off Team Hiryu on the ground, so this much was just fine.
Despite the catastrophe occurring in the air, the damage to Team Hiryu was zero, as if it was calculated to end that way all along. Then again, if some of its members failed to meet their quota, they might have suffered some indirect casualties later…but that was none of Ultima’s business.
What she was more concerned about was Gabil.
“What’s Gabil been doing over there…?”
Gabil had been exposed to prolonged magic canceler fire. It sounded like the bridge had mistaken him for Veldora because of who knows why, but Ultima didn’t let it bother her much. As things stood, however, he was going to get caught in the Nuclear Flame, so she really wanted him to retreat already.
She flew over to his side, as much of a hassle as she knew this would be.
“Hey, Gabil? What are you doing?”
“Ah, Lady Ultima! I’ve actually gained a new sense, you see!”
He sounded oddly boastful about it. It piqued Ultima’s interest, but evacuation took priority right now. She wouldn’t be killed by her own magic, but Gabil probably wouldn’t survive. Okay, maybe he would, but she didn’t want to take that bet, let alone be stigmatized as someone who killed her allies—and so Ultima forcibly removed Gabil from the scene.
Back on the ground, the two of them regrouped with Team Hiryu. It was finally time for Ultima’s interrogation to begin.
“So what’s this all about?” she asked, her tone firm with Gabil. Apart from her information-officer duties, Ultima was also an observer watching over him, providing both support and advice so he didn’t pull anything foolish. If Gabil failed, that meant Ultima failed, too, so it was only natural that she was harsh with him.
But Gabil was totally oblivious to this.
“Gwah-ha-ha-ha! You see, when I was exposed to that special light beam the enemy shot at me, I had a brief stroke of genius. I immediately saw that this light affected magicules, and so I wanted to experiment to see how long I could withstand it!”
I should just turn this lizard over to Sir Rimuru and have him scream at him, Ultima thought, but she held her ground and soldiered on.
“And so what’s this new sense of yours?”
“Yes, that’s the thing! All of you, come up and listen close. Sir Middray told us that our intrinsic skill Dragon Body would become available to us for longer periods of time as we trained with it. I, too, kept myself transformed that entire time, didn’t I?”
He looked around his squadmates, sneering at them. Upon hearing this, Team Hiryu exchanged glances with each other, surprised. They were all able to transform for an average of about ten minutes, and they had long since returned to their original forms by now.
“I thought that’d be a given for you, Sir Gabil, but no?”
“If you teach us this secret, can we do it, too?”
His troops began growing more and more excited. It made Ultima glance at them with cold, dead eyes. If only these lizards could experience a little pain for a change, she thought. She showed no mercy to her foes and little care for those below her in rank, but technically speaking, Gabil’s force wasn’t in her hierarchy. If he disposed of them without permission, Rimuru would fume at her. And a bit of a lecture was one thing, but when she recalled how Rimuru reacted whenever one of his people got hurt, she’d likely receive a much harsher punishment—maybe even banishment. Ultima was determined not to let that happen, so after weighing that punishment against the chance to release some stress on these lizards, she reluctantly decided to remain patient.
“It is thanks to you,” Gabil told her, “that I’ve discovered the secret of this power. You believed me when I said I had an idea, and you bought me enough time to think it through.”
“What?”
“Heh-heh-heh! No need to play dumb, for I, Gabil, can see right through you. We all thank you for giving us the opportunity to grow from our inexperience!”
Ultima never turned down a compliment. Regaining her composure, she decided to revise her assessment of Gabil a bit.
“Okay, that’s enough. So what did you discover, Gabil? Because everyone else seems to wanna know about it.”
She decided not to bother correcting Gabil’s misunderstanding. Right now, it was more important to get this situation under control.
By this point, fighting was taking place only in localized pockets. There was the rear, commanded by Hakuro; the center, where Gobta/Ranga were still rampaging away; and the three main enemy positions Testarossa was headed for. Now that Gabil’s crew had finished destroying their air force, it was time to head off and provide support for other parts of the battle. There was no time for idle chitchat.
“I’ll report this to Sir Rimuru as well, but before that, I will be as brief as I can. And all of you listen up, too, because it’ll help everyone be stronger.”
Gabil sternly began his explanation. It was, in essence, a way to fully control the Dragon Body skill.
As an intrinsic dragonewt skill, Dragon Body strengthened the user’s body via a surge of magicules. This surge took in matter around it for its strengthening effect. More mass meant enhanced defense, along with near-immediate recovery if the user was injured. Having magicules running out of control like this meant casting magic was off the table, but they’d have no problem using breath- and other ability-based skills. As long as they could keep ahold of their consciousness, it provided enhanced strength with almost no downside.
“Now, it seems that this enemy attack has a tendency to disrupt the movement of magicules around us…and I could feel it further enhancing my powers.”
“What? You mean…even beyond your current form?”
Ultima was surprised. This was an unexpected side effect of the magic canceler. Right now, Gabil had magicule energy in him equivalent to back when Clayman “awoke” for the last time. If it could be further strengthened from here, he was definitely worth listening to. The idea of magicule disruption boosting one’s power to the point that they’d statistically outdo an awakened true demon lord was enough to shock even Ultima.
“No, no, not like that. There’s more power, yes, but I couldn’t handle it very well. So I consciously focused myself, so I could feel the magicules running rampant in my body, but…”
But the result was that pinned-down performance he showed off a bit ago. He wasn’t taking damage, but he couldn’t move at all. However, Gabil had a knack for turning anything to his advantage—and so through that experience, he learned how to more fully sense his magicules.
“That’s what Sir Middray was referring to when he talked about a state of selflessness, I think. Looking into your inner space, turning an ear to it, and then—”
“You’re taking too long! Keep it short and simple!”
Gabil’s force nodded their agreement at Ultima’s sharp feedback.
“Oh,” Gabil said, overpowered. “Well, essentially, by sensing the magicules running around wild inside me, I could send my thoughts to it. And then, wonder of wonders, I gained control over their power!”
The first impression of his men upon hearing this was that he was nuts. On the other hand, it gave Ultima food for thought. Seeing them made her realize that while it was easier than breathing for her, it must’ve been really tough for Team Hiryu. This gave her a real shot of motivation.
Wait… If I train Gabil’s force, maybe they can become even stronger?
Doing that would definitely make her useful to Rimuru. The potential for receiving praise from it was enormous.
“I know exactly what you mean, Gabil. But we can take the time to discuss this later, all right? Because right now, I really think we need to support the goblins.”
It was her way of saying this break was over. Typically, she’d report to Rimuru about how lazy they were, but after receiving such useful information from Gabil, Ultima raised her opinion of him slightly. That was why she was being so gracious here, overlooking Gabil’s erratic behavior this time.
“Ah yes, you’re right! Well, time for us to step in and provide aid, then.”
Gabil nodded happily. He still had the completely wrong idea, but Ultima didn’t see that as a problem. It was better that way for her, even, so she let them be without further comment.
“Anyone who didn’t meet their quota is going to face some thorough reeducation later, so be prepared!”
“You said it! I’ll pitch in on that, too.”
Ultima gave him an adorable smile. It seemed like a very good idea to her. And so, blissfully unaware of her intentions, Team Hiryu went back out on the field.
“Nonsense! This is ridiculous!”
At the main camp, far from the battlefield, Lieutenant General Gaster ranted, his face pale. Before him was a scene of unbelievable devastation. The Magitank Force, his pride and joy, was being tossed around by a monster wolf that had taken human form. It was a nightmarish scene; safe to say there were more destroyed tanks than intact ones by now.
Defeat was unavoidable at this point, but the battle had progressed so much faster than expected that they had already missed their retreat window. They hadn’t even been able to report the situation to Caligulio, general commander and leader of the Armored Division.
Gotta report back to that bastard Caligulio ASAP and ask for permission to withdraw…
Gaster’s sense of reason was pleading with him.
…And yet…
Even if he submitted that report, he’d likely never receive permission. The main force led by Caligulio had already kicked off their operation; if Gaster and the rest of the forces here withdrew, they’d be left totally isolated.
The Restructured Armor Corps, their main force, was being deployed in front of the demon lord Rimuru’s stronghold. They were all proud warriors of the Empire, each of whom underwent reconstructive surgery, and they numbered an overwhelming seven hundred thousand strong. They were a sure thing, absolutely certain to win, but if they knew the rest of the army had been defeated, it was bound to shake them.
Plus, the Dwarven Kingdom’s army would go on the move soon. Once they did, the Restructured Army Corps could be caught between the dwarves and the demon lord Rimuru’s forces, leaving the Corps surrounded and cut off from their supply lines. They could function for about a week without food, drink, or sleep, but no more. They were still human beings, and even they needed supplies.
My mission is to subdue the Dwarven Kingdom… If I withdrew from the war zone here, I’d be abandoning Caligulio and all his forces. Even if we can’t win, we must at least maintain the stalemate…
But that was a questionable option. The only thing Gaster saw ahead for his army was defeat. Confusion was reigning toward the rear, and the chain of command was starting to fall apart. They were even seeing friendly fire now. Even if they kept going, it was just a matter of time before they were annihilated.
“Lieutenant General! If we keep this up, one way or the other we’ll be wiped out!”
“Retreat! Give us the retreat order!!”
He didn’t need his advisers to spell it out for him. He firmly agreed with them. But if it was said out loud, all responsibility for the defeat would fall upon his shoulders.
Lieutenant General Gaster was a man of impeccable personal bravery, one with a fine reputation within the military. He had never known a setback like this in his whole career, which was what made this seem so peculiar to him.
We can’t retreat. If we do, His Majesty is bound to punish me. I can’t ever allow that to happen! I’m the man who’ll become a hero…but now all the glory’s disappearing. Unless I’ve got something firm to prove that it’s not just my fault…
The very prestige of the Empire was riding on this operation. If it failed because of him… Such was the true nature of Gaster’s thoughts, something only coming up to the surface now. In fact, he was always a small-minded person, caring only about saving his own hide and not blinking at the thought of sacrificing his troops.
“Lieutenant General, if we continue like this, it’ll be difficult to even rebuild our forces. We’re still in control of our main force—I think we should use them to strike the enemy in the rear!”
“There’s no shame in a temporary retreat. If we keep fighting in close quarters like this, it’s only going to cause us more casualties!”
Amid these suggestions, Gaster finally began using his head again. Lose the unit he’d been placed in charge of, and he’d never escape punishment either way. Demotion wouldn’t be the end of it—they might not even give him a trial before they took his life.
“Dammit… I’m going to be a hero. And now…all these damn incompetents are dragging me down…!!”
Gaster’s ugly nature was now bare for all to see. But his voice was then drowned out by the sound of a huge explosion. Turmoil spread across the main camp.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s—it’s an enemy magic attack!”
“Magic? N-no… Is that nuclear magic?!”
“We haven’t confirmed it yet, but judging by the scale, it has to be. But um…”
“But what? Speak up!”
“Yes, sir! The enemy’s offense seems to have easily penetrated our legion magic protecting our force from magic strikes…”
“What?! Damage report!”
“The explosion occurred in the sky, sir. We’ve lost contact with our allied airships!”
“That— That’s ridiculous! Are you saying that the Flying Combat Corps, the jewel of our entire military, is gone…?”
Gradually, in fits and starts, the situation grew clear—and now everyone realized the damage was far more serious than they imagined.
They had lost contact with not one airship, but all of them. That magic just now must’ve taken them all down. They were equipped with magic cancelers, a new type of weapon, but it was magic that did them in? It was so hard to believe.
“Retreat. Wait, no. We have to… Yes, we have to change course and gather ourselves!”
Gaster sent out the order, aimed more at himself than his soldiers. He had finally made the decision to retreat from this ghastly situation…but that decision had already come decisively too late.
A cool voice echoed through the battlefield.
“Huh? You’re not going to claim this is the end, are you? Because I’ve already told you—invade us any further, and we’ll show no mercy.”
Gaster turned his panicked head toward the voice and saw a beautiful snow-white face with a beaming smile. It was Testarossa.
“I’m a woman of my word, you know. When I visited this world in the past, I made sure I fully granted the wishes of my summoner. Rest assured, I’m going to reward you handsomely as well.”
Fear flooded Gaster’s mind. Not a petty little fear involving saving his own ass, but an endlessly churning terror that threatened the very foundation of his life, eroding his instincts.
“Y-you!”
“Oh? I wonder if you forgot about that? If so, that’s very rude of you.”
Testarossa eyed him like an affectionate mother looking down at her naughty son.
Gaster would never have forgotten. Not that much time had passed since they parted, but no matter how many years went by, her lovely white hair and scarlet eyes were too beautiful to ever forget. More than that, it was all so terrifying. Her beauty gave him an unfathomable sense of foreboding.
Suppressing his fear, Gaster tried ordering his men to attack. But there was no one to answer the call.
“I’m not sure what you’re trying to do, but your men are resting at the moment. They must’ve been pretty tired, huh? I can’t seem to get them up.”
She was whispering in his ear now. They were talking face-to-face a moment ago, but now he found her standing right behind him. He hadn’t been careless—he never even took his eyes off her—but before he knew it, Testarossa had moved on him.
It was just too fast, and even more frightening, there was no sound accompanying it at all. Gaster’s unique skill Performer allowed him to detect the movements of his opponents through sound. He could capture even the faintest of noises, things not even a trained guru could control—not just the beating of one’s heart, but even the blood flowing through their veins. And yet sound was completely absent from Testarossa.
Then Gaster discovered another terrifying fact. He couldn’t hear any sound from his fallen men, either. They were dead.
“Y-you… You didn’t kill them, did you?!”
Gaster staggered away from Testarossa.
“Hmm?” she replied, not betraying any remorse. “Well, you know, I was a bit hungry, so I took some.”
“Took some? Took some what?”
“Oh, a few souls.”
Her matter-of-fact tone of voice infuriated Gaster. The anger overcame his fear, replenishing the strength in his body.
“Die, you foul demon! Mind Requiem!!”
Letting his momentum take him up, Gaster unleashed the most powerful move he could muster, scattering inescapable, murderous sound waves into the surrounding space. The special effects these waves had on the minds of intelligent life-forms caused instant death. It was one of his all-powerful finishing moves, effective even against spiritual life-forms like demons.
But Testarossa just smiled elegantly at him.
“Ah, what a pleasant tone! It’d be such a waste that you had to be human. What a pity. You have such wonderful talent as a musician, but now I have to kill you.”
Her enraptured expression clouded with sadness. Seeing it made Gaster realize that his attack didn’t work. It plunged him into despair. He had been fooled by her beautiful appearance, but Testarossa was definitely not human. In fact, he finally realized, she was a higher-ranked being than he had ever seen before in his life.
Maybe even more so than that rampaging wolf hybrid…
This was beyond dangerous.
Are you saying there’s monsters like that all over this nation? If so, then we may have gravely misjudged our strategy from the start…
After all this time, Gaster finally began to feel some regret. Along with that, he foresaw the complete failure of the Empire’s military operation. All of this…and above that, Tempest had the Catastrophe-class threat Veldora. The war was already dangerously close to being lost. There was no way they could stage a comeback.
So Gaster began to get desperate.
“Wait! I want to make a deal!”
“Oh? What kind?”
“I— I’m high-ranked in the Empire. I’m well versed in our military operation. I have classified information on me. I can be useful to you, I promise. So please, spare my life!”
Throwing all shame and outward appearances aside, Gaster begged for mercy. But there was still a glint of light in his eyes, and he was careful to keep an eye on Testarossa’s response. He thought he was out of options, but right now, his ears caught the sound of several footsteps approaching.
He had an idea of who they were. They were running quietly enough that only he could notice them. Just from those footsteps, he could immediately surmise they were from the Imperial Intelligence Bureau.
If the IIB had agents monitoring the battlefield, it certainly wouldn’t surprise Gaster. They were directed by Tatsuya Kondo, the one “stalking the halls of information,” and he was sure Tatsuya would use every measure at his disposal here. So he decided to believe that they were here to save him. It didn’t matter how pathetic it made him look—if they could buy enough time for him, he’d be saved.
His confidence in this mainly stemmed from a rumor about the IIB he had heard a while back. Among the IIB staff were people simply termed intelligence officers, operatives with first-class combat skills who were trained for operations in any environment. Their names were unknown to the public because they never joined in any ranking duels; they were affiliated with the IIB, and they never transferred out. They were, in a way, removed from the world at large, working strictly under the mysterious otherworlder Tatsuya Kondo.
That was all just a rumor, and not a very credible one at that, but Gaster had nothing else to grasp onto right now. If these were just regular soldiers coming along, it was all over. But if they were IIB intelligence officers… Well, with Gaster’s help, they could probably beat Testarossa. That was why, right then, he had to do whatever he could—even beg for his life—to buy some more time.
And the bet paid off.
“Do you sense that? You’re a demon… No, an Arch Demon!”
Several soldiers jumped out in front of Gaster, shouting. He thanked his own good fortune—and when he heard the term Arch Demon, it suddenly made sense. No way his physical attacks would ever work; he was dealing with a spiritual life-form. And an Arch Demon was top of the heap among them, dangerous enough to pose a Calamity-level threat. Only a true champion could fight one off solo, and maybe Gaster would have a chance, but it’d truly be a fight for his life.
“Wh-who are you?”
Three men were now on the scene. The sight of them reassured Gaster enough that he dared to ask.
“Sir! We’re from the IIB. I—”
Just as Gaster expected, they were secret agents. One of them was about to state his name, but the man in the middle—the leader, apparently—stopped him.
“Whoa! Now’s not a good time to give out names.”
The first man turned toward Testarossa, a concerned look on his face.
“You’re no regular Arch Demon, are you?”
“It looks like she’s received a physical body. Tch… No wonder she had such a faint presence.”
“Lieutenant General, we’ll get to names later. For now, we have to team up to beat this evil demon!”
“Yes, of course!”
Gaster had no choice but to back the leader. It was annoying to not be in charge, but right then, survival was everything.
In a brilliant display of coordination, the IIB men instantly surrounded Testarossa, using a chain made of monster hair to block her movement on three sides.
Unbeknownst to Gaster, this move was the Imperial Suppression Stance. It was the most advanced killing formation taught in the Empire, allowing a team of three people to defeat higher-level monsters—even Arch Demons.
The secret was in this chain, woven with the hair of monsters and forged from holy silver, a Legend-class treasure. These definitely weren’t rank-and-file soldiers carrying it, and in fact, the members of this trio were among the greatest fighters in the Empire—knights of the Imperial Guardians, in disguise.
Davis, ranked eleventh.
Balt, ranked thirty-eighth.
Gordon, ranked sixty-fourth.
When running an infiltration mission, Imperial Knights preferred to work in groups of three. The Imperial Guardians had their own numerical pecking order, and it was customary for the smallest number to be their leader. In terms of strength, the gap between the twenties and the thirties and below, numberwise, was enormous. Those assigned number thirty or below were Enlightened, reaching dimensions beyond humanity, and they all had powers almost as strong as Saints.
And one of them was here now—Davis, who played a key role in the Bloody Shore incident. Davis’s team had sealed away Blanc, that nightmarish Primal Demon, and now he was swooping in at Gaster’s time of need. He and Blanc had a score to settle.
Watching the knights act as one to subdue Testarossa, Gaster cheered internally, assuming he was saved. If he kept throwing Mind Requiem her way, he reasoned, even a spiritual life-form couldn’t last long. He had included physical creatures in his previous attack, but this time, he adjusted it so it only affected spirituals. That way, no matter how lofty an Arch Demon she was, it’d be impossible for her to maintain her existence.
That’s what he thought. But again, he was too naive. This strategy didn’t take into account the fact that Testarossa was physically incarnated—it was meaningless to act only upon her mind, and his Mind Requiem had no hope of working.
But even before that:
“Oh my goodness, what a fond trip down memory lane. These are the people who defeated me before, aren’t they?”
“…What?”
“This is so nice! I was so rudely interrupted last time that I wasn’t able to eat a full meal back then. I had this wonderful meal set up for me, and just when I was set to dig in, that happened. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that.”
Testarossa’s voice, filled with malice, echoed across the area. Despite being blocked by the chain, she didn’t sound even remotely concerned.
“No! This evil presence…!”
“Look at her… Is that Blanc, the Original White?”
“It can’t be! We made so much of an effort sealing her away, and she’s back this quickly?!”
Testarossa laughed at how upset all three were. It was so wicked of her, yet so beautiful.
“Hee-hee… Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee! Ah, such lovely expressions on your faces. Fear, anxiety, and completely unfounded confidence. All you can do is pretend to yourselves, but you still haven’t run away from me? You certainly do enjoy engaging in wasted efforts, don’t you?”
“Shut up, demon!”
“We didn’t expect you to come back, but don’t forget—we’ve sealed you once already, remember? Boast about your victory after you beat us!”
“Davis is right. We’re going to destroy you down to the soul this time!”
This declaration was ridiculous to Testarossa.
“You guys are so funny to me. Are you sure you should be that self-confident? You think the exact same technique is going to work on me a second time?”
She asked the question as elegantly as could be, even as the Imperial Suppression Stance caught her in its grasp.
“Quit being a sore loser. Nobody here’s gonna listen to a demon’s nonsense.”
“Well said, Gordon. There’s no place for you in this world, demon. And if you couldn’t get it through your head once, we’ll bury you as many times as it takes!”
“Lieutenant General Gaster! Leave this scene to us, please. You and your troops should retreat!”
Davis was calm from start to finish. The Original White’s appearance was unexpected, but he still hadn’t forgotten his original purpose. He was attempting to defeat the wolf demon, the combined Gobta/Ranga. In order to achieve that, Davis intended to convince Gaster to withdraw his troops so Davis didn’t blow his cover finishing that monster off.
Not even Davis had the right to give orders to the higher-ranked Gaster. If worse came to worst, eliminating him from the picture entirely was a possibility. But with Blanc on the scene, now was no time for that. Davis had no hope of beating her while maintaining his cover—in fact, unless he got all the nearby troops out of here fast, they could all get caught up in this battle.
Gaster, unaware of any of this, was suddenly spurred back into action. He was having trouble keeping up with this situation.
Blanc? The Original White? What’re they talking about? Do—do they mean that Arch Demon? Ah, I can’t think about that now. Enough thinking about who this trio is— I gotta survive this!
Desperately slamming his brain into motion, he tried to come up with a solution. Then, in a panic, he used his unique skill Performer to order his entire army to retreat. But it was too late. The moment he had encountered Testarossa, all hopes had already been dashed.
Davis, Balt, and Gordon were three nameless heroes who had once defeated a powerful demon lord. The incident was known as the Bloody Shore, when Blanc—the dreaded Original White who ruled over the demons of the east—came dangerously close to incarnating herself in this world. Ever since, the Empire’s vigilance against demons had changed dramatically. Every city had its own demon control office now, and their summoning was banned by law.
If an Arch Demon was ever to physically incarnate itself, it’d require mobilizing the army to deal with it either way. If not handled property, it’d be a potentially city-wrecking disaster. Plus, this was a Primal, a very special existence among Arch Demons; their strength couldn’t even be measured in terms of mere magicules.
Ever since that incident, Davis believed it was sheer good fortune that let them defeat Blanc. But at the same time, he was confident that no matter how many times they staged that fight again, he’d never lose. Why? Because he was ranked eleventh. Even the strongest champions of the outside world were no match for the truly powerful, those who had lived for over a thousand years in the underworld. We’re talking the magic-born Razen, guardian of Farmus, and the Heroic King Gazel of the Armed Nation of Dwargon.
Otherworlders like Yuuki Kagurazaka and Hinata Sakaguchi wouldn’t cut it. Neither would Thalion’s Magus corps or Lubelius’s Crusaders. No matter their strength, they’d always be a mere blur before the Imperial Guardians. And even among this all-powerful group, the Single Digits held a special position. Davis, being ranked eleventh, served as their assistant.
His Majesty has given us this, the most powerful of gear. With our combined powers, there’s no way a mere demon could defeat us!!
Davis was brimming with confidence. Once he urged Gaster to retreat, he turned to his companions.
“Both of you, open it up! It looks like Blanc’s incarnated herself, but she couldn’t have stored up that many magicules yet. We’ll hit her with all we got!”
“Right!”
“On it!”
Gordon nodded; Balt smiled defiantly. As they acknowledged him, the pendants hanging from all three of their necks began to glow. The light soon became a torrent, enveloping their bodies—and what emerged from them were three warriors wearing golden full-plate mail. This was Legend-class armor, only given to the chosen ones. Imperial Guardians generally preferred their choice of weapon, but their armor was generally all the same. This was impeccable quality, handed down from ancient times; no ordinary person could even catch a glimpse of them. And now that they had it on, Davis and his companions were able to fight with all their might.
“Bad luck for you, Original White! Maybe you’ve gained a physical body, but that’s where it ends. Meeting us here was the end of your good fortune— Ngh?!”
To give him a better chance at finishing off Testarossa, Davis had put more strength into his grip on the chain. Then he noticed that there was no response from it. Testarossa, whom he had sealed up inside the chain, had slipped it off like a pair of pants.
“Look, do you think I’m going to let you do that?”
Davis turned toward the chilling voice. There he saw Testarossa, whose hand was on Gaster’s neck. With a dull snap, the lieutenant general collapsed. He was dead, killed by the demon without putting up the slightest resistance.
“How…?!” Davis instinctively shouted. Gaster might’ve been more than a little self-centered, but he was no weakling. He was a lieutenant general, and he had the ability to match—in fact, he had every right to join the Imperial Guardians’ ranks. Probably just a far-flung number, yes…but even so, he wasn’t the kind of man who’d go down that easy.
That…and Davis shuddered as he looked at his hands. The chain of holy silver, monster hair threaded through it; this Legend-class piece of gear had been battered to pieces. Confused frustration flashed across his face, as it did with Balt and Gordon. They had no idea when Testarossa had even moved, much less broken the chain.
And the hardship didn’t end there.
“Oh, were you waiting for me? If so, I’m sorry. This man was trying to escape, so I had to give him a little punishment. If I didn’t, you know, that’d be disobeying Sir Rimuru’s orders. We can’t have that, can we?”
Testarossa shot the men a lustrous smile as she sized them up. Then something else occurred to him.
“Ah, right. I’ve been wondering—would you three mind not calling me Blanc, or the Original White or whatnot?”
“What…?”
“I mean, you know, I’ve got a name now—it’s Testarossa. I’d really hate it if you didn’t use it, you see?”
The statement was a peal of despair for Davis and his team.
“Wait… A name? A name?”
“Testarossa… Some fool gave a Primal a name?!”
“First an incarnation, then a name…”
This was unprecedented. Suddenly, their position wasn’t looking so good after all.
“We must retreat. This crisis must be brought to His Majesty’s attention immediately.”
“Yeah, I hear ya. I’ll hold her off.”
“And I’ll set up a Warp Portal—”
The trio’s teamwork was beyond reproach. Quickly dividing work among themselves, they sprang into action, Gordon already casting the warp spell. Once they did, Testarossa let out an evil laugh—lovingly, beautifully, but with a truly sinister touch.
“What’s so funny?!” Balt shouted, taking up his spear and charging at her. But Testarossa had already disappeared. Balt had no chance of keeping up with her.
“Dammit, where the hell did you go?!”
“Over here.”
A hot breath blew into Balt’s ear, filling his nostrils with a sweet, fragrant scent. There was no need to turn around; it was Testarossa.
Then he felt a cold, delicate female hand on his neck, almost chilling his soul.
Ah—aaahhhhh?!
The image of the now-limp Gaster flashed through his mind.
“I hate it when people don’t realize the limits of their abilities.”
But it was questionable whether Testarossa’s voice even reached Balt.
Crack.
Balt collapsed, a sobering look of terror on his face, and that was the end of the thirty-eighth-ranked member of the Imperial Guardians.
Davis, watching all this, experienced a feeling of panicked self-doubt that disturbed his thoughts for the first time in several hundred years.
“Gordon, hurry up! She’s killed Balt. She’s too dangerous!”
His voice was colored with fear, regardless of his intentions. Gordon nodded silently, as if he understood. His teleportation magic now complete, the circle of magic floating above the ground began to glow.
“Okay, retreat!”
Davis sprinted toward the circle as he made the order…but the spell failed to activate.
“Wh-what? Why?!”
Testarossa kindly explained it to Gordon, as if ridiculing him for being so upset: “I’m not sure what’s so strange about that. I’m not using the magic canceler wrong, am I?”
Davis and Gordon had no idea what she was talking about.
“What? The magic canceler…?”
“Wait, did you re-create it with magic…?”
She looked at them and let out an exasperated sigh.
Testarossa had been sharing information with Ultima and Carrera via Thought Communication. Among the information she obtained that way was data on the magic cancelers installed on the airships. For Testarossa, re-creating and using the technology from the data she obtained was child’s play. But such an act was well beyond the scope of human common sense, and it’d be absurd to expect Davis and Gordon to understand it.