As if that wasn’t enough, Gourmet—Geld’s other unique skill—had a Stomach that was accessible by the entire armed force. If anyone got hurt, they could be healed magically through that via the support troops to the rear, and if someone was seriously messed up, they had instant access to as much healing potion as needed. A large supply was always kept in Geld’s Stomach, in case of emergency—not just for this war, but at all times. Rimuru kept it fully stocked for just that purpose. This potion wouldn’t go bad or anything inside the Stomach, either, and so the army had permission from Rimuru to deplete the stockpile as much as needed today.
From the standpoint of logistics, a unit that could replenish its supplies on the spot without having to move an inch would put any commander’s mind at ease. In a way, the monster’s own bodies were building a stout barrier for them all.
There’s no way they could lose, Geld thought. But after that…
He looked at the sky. There, he saw the figure of an officer named Carrera who was assigned to his unit.
If she’s got enough power to make Sir Rimuru count on her, I’m sure gonna be looking forward to this.
The final battle was almost here. Geld, nearly beside himself with excitement, continued to quietly wait for the opening bell.
Carrera was idly floating in the sky, within Geld’s line of sight. She had been assigned to the Second Army Corps with her two companions, but they were operating separately for now. Rimuru had given her the honor of being on the vanguard force, and the warrior Geld had graciously accepted the trio, advising them to act as they pleased. He seemed like a very nice person, and Carrera felt they’d be getting along excellently before long.
Rimuru had given Carrera a secret order to protect Geld as well. She didn’t know for sure, but she guessed that Testarossa and Ultima received similar orders. If anyone on the Empire side was too much for his chief officials to deal with, the demons would keep those foes occupied and buy time for their side—that was their real mission.
That wasn’t the case now, however. Now that they were in a lead position among the forces, there was no reason for the three of them to stay together. In fact, given the wall Geld and his forces had already built up, Carrera and her friends had nothing to do, really.
For now, the first priority on Carrera’s mind was figuring out how to best annihilate the enemy. So there she was, in the sky, just about to unleash a nuclear magic spell.
“Whoaaa, wait a second! Lady Carrera, what did you just try to do?”
Agera, just back from his envoy errand, hurriedly came up to stop her. The hard-nosed old veteran Caligulio saw was nowhere to be seen—in front of Carrera, Agera was nothing but a hapless, long-suffering servant. He had rushed back here because he had a premonition that something bad was about to happen, and it turned out he was right. The way he could detect subtle signals predicting Carrera’s actions showed how developed his keen intuition had become over many years of working for her.
“Oh, you’re back, Agera? You know, I’ve been thinking about a few different things, but I honestly think I need some practice. I don’t want to mess up when it’s time to really fight!”
She wanted to fire that off while nobody was around to nitpick at her about it, but being interrupted didn’t seem to bother her at all. It was clear evidence that this behavior was pretty much par for the course.
“Practice, you say?”
“Right, yeah. I’m just triggering a nuclear explosion in the sky, so it’ll look kind of like a big firework, y’know? There might be some residual heat that burns up the ground a little, but no biggie! What do you think? That won’t be a problem, will it?”
“It’s excellent, my lady! A perfect idea! Well done, as always!”
The girl who accompanied the smug Carrera was now giving her effusive praise. This was Esprit, a demon on roughly the same social caste as Agera. She looked like a cute little girl, but one with a terrifying personality—in fact, it’d be no exaggeration to say she was the worst of Carrera’s underlings. But she had the power to back it up, so even Agera had trouble dealing with her. Typically, as servants, he and Esprit would be sharing in the same hardships, but Esprit indulged all Carrera’s impulses so much that she wasn’t much of a bulwark at all. Never once had he ever tried to admonish her; whatever Carrera did was fine with her. Esprit left all the difficult, awkward lecturing to Agera while continuing to be Carrera’s top bandwagoner. This meant that Agera did all the labor among them, which made for a less than healthy working relationship.
To him, Testarossa (a sensible girl who was pure evil) and Ultima (who was in constant pursuit of further brutality) were just as bad as Carrera. But simply being evil wasn’t the problem. Even Carrera, who always did everything turned up to eleven without worrying about the collateral damage, was a troublesome lord to serve in Agera’s eyes. Spreading mayhem, then saying “Oops, that kinda caused a lot of damage!” afterward, didn’t strike him as funny at all. He just couldn’t bring himself to laugh along with her.
On the other hand, his colleague Esprit didn’t mind Carrera at all, thanks to having such similar personalities. Agera envied her for that.
“It’s not excellent at all, you! Keep your mouth shut!”
The long-suffering Agera yelled at the irresponsible Esprit about it. Then he turned to Carrera and began to explain matters carefully, as if talking to a child.
“…Listen, Lady Carrera. I just visited the enemy camp as an envoy, right?”
“Right, yeah.”
“And it’s a rule on the battlefield that you’re not supposed to make any moves until the time comes.”
“What? It’s just practice!”
“Practice or not, you still can’t do it!”
Agera’s boss Carrera was like a runaway train with no brakes. Stopping her required a mammoth effort. Her power was just so overwhelming that it made her tough to control. She had been making a regular habit of agitating the demon lord Leon on a daily basis, shooting nuclear magic off to provoke him. It didn’t turn into a war thanks to Leon being coolheaded, but if it was any other demon lord, the fallout would’ve been massive.
But whenever Carrera had her fill, she’d just go back to her home in the demon realm. She was looking for momentary kicks, so she never placed much importance on winning or losing fights. Even if she ever lost, she would’ve just disappeared from the scene with a big smile on her face. She wouldn’t think she’d lost, so it wouldn’t damage her or make her feel any remorse. That’s who she was, and before now, Agera was at a loss to figure out how to teach her some common sense.
Not now, however.
Up to this point, there was no one who could give orders to Agera and his ruling-class companions, the top-ranking demons of the realm and the most powerful as well. That was doubly true for Carrera, who could make even those ruling classes do her bidding—even offering your opinion to her was done at your own risk. Carrera only allowed Agera to serve her without being rubbed out of existence because she liked him.
Now, though, Carrera herself was not serving the demon lord Rimuru. Agera believed that, in order to win Rimuru’s favor, Carrera had best start to learn a little patience—that, and using her head instead of acting on impulses. To achieve this, he needed his boss Carrera to learn a little common sense. If Carrera could learn and master Tempest’s assorted legal rules and regulations, Agera thought, then he really hoped she could act more considerate in her day-to-day life, too.
Then maybe my hardships would be eased a little…
With that modest wish in his heart, Agera made a daily effort to offer Carrera the frank advice she needed. He was always on the lookout for a good opportunity to lecture her, and while it might look like an old man berating his granddaughter, he didn’t care about that. Now, he thought, was his chance. He needed to be understandable and concise—tough when dealing with Carrera, who was easily bored and never listened for very long to others.
But then, as Agera earnestly explained the customs of war to Carrera…the imperial army suddenly went on the move.
“Hey, Agera, you gave them a lot more time than that, didn’t you?”
“I did, yes…”
“Okay, so while I was listening to all your boring trivia, the Empire’s gotten a leg up on us?”
This unnerved Agera for two reasons. Carrera didn’t understand the concept of “going easy” at all, but get her mad, and her outbursts usually led to massive meltdowns. If the brunt of that anger was pointed at Agera, he’d have to give up on living. But he was also mad at the Empire for ruining this lesson on the rules of warfare he was giving her. This reckless action on their part—akin to a betrayal—made him angry for the first time in quite a while.
“Lady Carrera! Leave that old man alone and let’s teach a lesson to those idiots who can’t even keep a promise!”
Esprit flashed a look at Agera that screamed “I hope you’re happy now, asshole!” then pointed toward the Empire to draw Carrera’s attention. Geld and his army were going into formation, and headed their way were nearly twenty thousand troops marching in an orderly fashion. From the air, the soldiers who seemed to fill Carrera’s entire field of vision looked like a fat hog ready for the dinner table.
She nodded, smiling.
“That sounds good! You won’t stop me, of course—right, Agera?”
The terrifying tone of the question indicated that any attempt to stop her would result in murder. But Agera’s reaction wasn’t what she expected.
“Yes… I did tell them to wait an hour, but I did not say they couldn’t attack in the meantime. I suppose I am to blame for this misunderstanding.”
“So what’ll we do?”
“Well, if someone is that eager to die, it’s the duty of any warrior to intercede on their part. No need to go easy. I think you’re quite safe doing whatever you like.”
Agera was fully ready for this. He might’ve been a gentle, decidedly un-demonic demon, but anyone who mocked his master or broke their promises to him would face his almighty rage.
“Great. This is so thrilling! See, that’s why I love you so much.”
He’d never stop Carrera now. Realizing this, she let out a gleeful laugh.
“Okay, let’s get started. Let’s teach them what happens when they try meddling with us!”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Coming right up!”
And so the battle broke out. And the Empire had no idea that their own actions were akin to signing their own death warrants.
“All right… How about a rain of nuclear spells for starters?”
“Oooh, I like that! It’s like planting tulip bulbs in the ground, except they’re mushroom clouds!”
Sometimes, when you offend someone who’s usually mild-mannered, they can react with shockingly severe retribution. The Empire was about to find this out the hard way.
“No, no, that’s still too little. Lady Carrera, remember what our master told us, please. He told you he wanted something massive that’d scare the Empire out of their wits.”
“…Mmm?”
“Wouldn’t combining our full forces together be the best way to adhere to our master’s wishes?”
Carrera’s eyes opened wide. It made sense to her. Agera’s words were indeed correct—and now Agera himself, usually busy snipping at Carrera to keep her from running wild, was telling her not to hold back. It was a deeply moving experience for her.
“Oh, Agera, you finally understand! And you’re right. I think I’ve been setting my own limits too much lately. Your words just woke me up! …Right! Let’s show them what we’ve got! I have a big spell I’ve never quite pulled off before, but it’s time to debut it to the world!”
Carrera was motivated. Motivated—and going all out like never before. Agera, regaining his composure, began to say “Uh-oh” to himself, but it was too late for that now. She was already focusing on the spell she was casting. Esprit was giving him a “Now what?” look, but at this point, all he could do was wait and see what happened. If his boss went out of control and got angry at him later, well, he could think about that when the time came.
With that in mind, Agera decided to sit back and enjoy this. Even he was a demon, after all.
In the end, the imperial army that had begun to march ahead was destroyed by an attack from above.
They had multiple legion magic–driven barriers over them, further magic defenses provided by state-of-the-art equipment, a force populated by soldiers who all had high magic resistance of their own, and all manner of holy blessings applied to them. And all those measures were utterly powerless in the face of the large-scale extinction magic Carrera unleashed.
This was Gravity Collapse, a type of nuclear magic. Boasting the most force among all the spells in its family, Gravity Collapse required both precise magic manipulation and an enormous amount of magicule energy. If the abyss core at its foundation was left unattended, it’d balloon in size until it triggered a Nuclear Flame—but in the forbidden Gravity Collapse spell, it was instead suppressed and compressed to create a super-gravitational field—in laypeople’s terms, an artificial black hole. This supercharged local gravitational field, created by the adverse reaction from the planet’s own magnetic fields, then crushed anyone caught inside into the size of a pebble.
Needless to say, the effect on the imperial force was pretty tragic. With no advance warning, gravity suddenly began to flatten them; the troops were all pulverized, unable to bear even their own weight. Marching on open terrain proved to be their downfall; there was no way to escape the eyes of the demon. Over four-fifths of the force of nearly two hundred thousand was trapped within the magic’s sphere of influence.
They were all currently on the ground, unable to move, but the real essence of this spell was just beginning. A storm of magical force began to blow upon them, affecting only the precisely defined area Carrera designated. It was an inverted storm, like nothing that anyone had ever seen.
The hyper-compressed space soon reached its breaking point, and in another moment, all its energy was focused on a single dot in space. Then it imploded—and the planet was greeted with an extremely miniature version of a supernova. A jet-black pillar connected the surface to the heavens—the earth, sand, and dust that had been swept up to the stratosphere by the huge explosion, as if Carrera just opened the manhole to hell.
It was no type of magic that should ever be used while standing atop a planet. If she hadn’t taken the time to define a precise range for it, the entire Forest of Jura would’ve become a charred wasteland. And nobody in the imperial army ever had a chance of being resistant to it. The nuclear magic Gravity Collapse is an all-attribute attack, encompassing all magical and physical phenomena. Thus, most troops caught inside were smashed into dust before even realizing what had happened.
Carrera was satisfied with this blast. What she wasn’t so satisfied with was Agera, who was already back to his usual habits. He was the one who encouraged her to do it; where did he get off, trying to complain about it now?
Still, Agera was expecting nothing quite on this scale. He did think it could wind up being trouble, yes, but not even he realized that Carrera had so much power. But dwelling on it at this point was a waste of time. The long-suffering Agera’s troubles had only just begun.
Geld smiled. This was awesome. Yes, he figured she’d be pretty strong, but Carrera’s might was simply unimaginable.
“Sure didn’t expect her to pick off that many with just one blow. Now none of us will have a chance to show our stuff.”
He sounded a touch sullen about it, but Geld didn’t really mean what he said. The imperial army was in a state of chaos, but there were still over twenty thousand survivors, and they were all in a mad rush for Geld’s army, trying desperately to escape the carnage. They were no longer heavily outnumbered, but now wasn’t the time to let their guard down. Geld understood that well enough. After witnessing the horrors of death firsthand, all those troops were doubtlessly going to fight within an inch of their lives. The pressure they’d lay on should never have been taken lightly.
But Geld was unfazed. And perhaps thanks to their commander’s calm demeanor, all Geld’s forces, right down to the lowliest buck private, were at attention and sizing up the enemy.
“Shields up!”
Once the enemy was within spitting distance, Geld issued the solemn order. The Second Corps responded in perfectly choreographed order, and in the next moment, they became a wall that would allow nobody through.
The fierce clash of army against the army came the next instant—but despite that, Geld’s forces didn’t retreat a single step backward as they engaged with the Empire. Even after that, Geld’s wall didn’t break down at any point along the line as it pushed the imperials back.
That was how the final battle began. Now it was Shion’s turn to make a move.
“Let’s charge them. I want to slaughter every last one of Sir Rimuru’s foes!!”
Shion’s elite guard, led by Team Reborn, roared their approval. At once, a good ten thousand magic-born of all shapes and sizes began to act on their own discretion. These were Shion’s most die-hard fans, trained by the woman herself, and being commanded by Team Reborn allowed them to largely do as they pleased.
They were a sizable army, and in a fight, they were good enough to turn heads. Shion’s extra skill Mortal Fear united them with Team Reborn, making these ten thousand magic-born a legion of marauding knights of terror as they slammed into the Empire. Mortal Fear fanned the enemy’s fears, sapping them of their will to fight. The effects were tremendous. The enemy, no longer able to tap into their full abilities, left themselves exposed, open, and ready for Team Reborn to trample all over them.
Wearing matching sets of bluish-purple armor forged by Garm, Shion’s forces rampaged across the battlefield. To the imperial army, the mere sight was nightmarish—but three giants among them, each exuding a ridiculous large aura of dark energy, caught most of their attention. Their own aura had assimilated with Shion’s Mortal Fear, turning them into living incarnations of violence. They were, of course, the three sons of the demon lord Daggrull.
But the rest of the guard wasn’t about to be undone. Taking full advantage of their resistance to death, Team Reborn focused on keeping the enemy’s attention. As they did, the other magic-born would dispatch the exposed foes—that was the basic strategy, and it let them steadily cut their numbers without taking any damage.
Gobzo was among them.
“Ooh, my head’s gettin’ itchy…”
Despite his casual observation, there was a stab wound in his head from when someone stuck a sword in it. The way it closed up, bit by bit, was gruesome to see if you weren’t used to it.
“Way to keep at it, Gobzo.”
“Yeah, if I took that blow, it would’ve killed me, huh?”
Gobzo had grown a lot—enough that his troops were truly impressed with him.
In the meantime, three cyclones began to form on the battlefield, one of Daggrull’s sons in the eye of each one. It was from those landmarks that the Empire’s left wing began collapsing.
Members of Shion’s elite guard weren’t about to miss that chance, and now the imperials were being pushed back at breakneck speed. Even the Empire’s troops, desperate and running on pure adrenaline, were no match for them. The two sides were more or less evenly matched in terms of individual combat ability—but one side was far better trained than the other, and in terms of skill level, the elite guard had a clear upper hand.
What kind of training did it take to make this happen? Somewhere along the line, Shion’s troops had transformed into an amazingly well-honed, specialized combat force.
As Shion was making a name for herself on the right wing, the imperial army was facing even more trouble on its own right side.
“N-no! Why are they here—? Urgh!”
“The Beast Master’s Warrior Alliance?!”
“No, I don’t wanna die— Grnnh!”
The Beast Master’s Warrior Alliance troops were serving as reinforcements, alongside the other magic-born who served Carillon. They all owed Rimuru a great favor, and now they were exercising their full powers to pay it back.
“That’s one hell of a monster.”
“It is.”
Zol, the elephant beastman, wholeheartedly agreed with Alvis’s muttered remark. A magic spell like none they had seen or heard of before was deploying before their eyes. An ominous pillar, connecting heaven and earth, had just reduced more than a hundred thousand imperial troops to dust. Even now, its violent fury was battering the landscape, never diminishing.
With that blow, victory was now assured. The only remaining question was whether the enemy had any true champions left hiding in their ranks. They wanted to know, and that was why they refused to let the enemy escape in this fight. Alvis, fully aware of how openhearted and generous Rimuru could usually be, was honestly shocked at how thorough they were with this policy—but at the same time, she believed this was how a demon lord should act.
“Well, we rolled in with twenty thousand troops, and it looks like they’re overwhelming them anyway. We can’t exactly call it paying him back if it’s going to be like this,” said Alvis.
“Ah, as if we could ever repay him in any true sense.”
“True enough. Well, we shouldn’t sadden Sir Rimuru, at least. Dying here is out of the question. Do everything in your power to ensure nobody’s hurt.”
“You heard him, everyone. Take your pride serving the Beast Master and do everything you can until the bitter end!”
The Beast Master’s Warrior Alliance answered Zol’s roar with one of their own. Not a moment later, the beastfolk began their march on the imperial army’s right flank.
By this point, the trend was abundantly clear. Magic was rampaging across the rear, and they were being overrun on their left and right sides. The imperial army had little option left, apart from waiting for their foes to surround and exterminate them.
Momiji eyed the situation, her eyes cold. Her head was calm, but her heart was burning fiercely.
“It’s about time now. Allow me to ignite flames of compassion to relieve our enemies from their suffering.”
With that whisper, she sent a signal to Gobwa. The moment she did, the Fourth Army Corps breathed in unison, summoning their mystic force. The order cascaded across Team Kurenai via Gobwa’s Thought Communication—and as if in response, the mystic force created by everyone streamed across the army, harmonized in beautiful fashion. It was Momiji’s job to give all this power a conduit.
“Are you sure this will work?” a slightly worried-looking Gobwa asked.
Momiji laughed the idea off. “If I’m to be Sir Benimaru’s wife, how could I not be capable of this much?”
There was an unshakable confidence in her attitude. Her plan, in essence, was to gather this mystic force into a single presence, then lob it straight at the enemy army. It was a simple, unadorned strategy, but if she failed to unify that force correctly, it might trigger an unintended explosion that could damage Geld’s force on the front line. Gobwa’s unease was natural, but in the face of Momiji’s confidence, she commented on it no further. Momiji had been entrusted with this army as Benimaru’s substitute, and to doubt her would be the same as doubting Benimaru.
“All right. I’ll leave that to you, then. Are you ready to begin?”
“Yes. This won’t be as powerful as the vicious magic Carrera cast, but it should be enough for the remaining forces. I’m going to finish this with one blow.”
Then Momiji’s once-in-a-lifetime mystic spell made its debut.
“Let us bloom a red lotus that softly, gently envelops our enemy. Mystic Crimson Heaven!”
It was a red flower blooming in the sky. Its first objective was to rapidly burn through oxygen, draining it from the air at ground level and leaving the enemy incapacitated. The second objective was to rain down the flames of compassion, its temperature high enough to render targets unconscious before it could inflict pain. The third objective was to ferret out the strongest among their forces. If anyone could withstand this attack, they’d have been classified as strong, naturally, making this mystic art a great way to weed out the time wasters.
So the blooming flower fell upon the battlefield—and at the end of it, nobody was left alive.
“Oh? Well, that’s a letdown.”
“It was to be expected, perhaps. The last group to enter the labyrinth was far more powerful than any before it. They might have been the best elites the Empire had to offer.”
“Seems like it. Now all we have left is the enemy’s command HQ.”
“I’m sure that’s been taken care of by now. Besides…”
“Oh, right. Carrera’s servant was heading over there, wasn’t he? And I’m certain nobody at the HQ could be a match for him.”
Caligulio had received a stream of desperate reports. He really didn’t need them. The catastrophe was happening right before his eyes, and the only silver lining was that, since it happened so fast, they were able to die without feeling any fear or regret. Meanwhile, the survivors of that fearsome magic had fled back to the main camp with terror in their eyes. Having experienced the soul-crushing horror firsthand, they lost all trust in the Empire, cursing their own foolishness. There was no time for fancy speeches as the staff officers shouted for retreat—but at this point, survival was impossible.
How did this happen? Should I have chosen enslavement instead? No— Where did I even go wrong in the first place?
He tried his hardest to cease his looping thoughts but failed. Once again, he looked out at the desperate battlefield, considering whatever possible strategies he could take by now. There was nothing—no saving grace that he could ever come up with at this moment.
And more to the point…
“No… What’s that? What is thaaat?!”
Caligulio was tossed into a crucible of fear and confusion. Magic that heinous was beyond what he was capable of understanding. How could you take tens of thousands of soldiers protected by layer and layer of anti-magic resistance and kill them all like you’d squash an anthill? Nearly two hundred thousand troops were utterly destroyed with just one blow, and it’d only be a matter of time before the rest were wiped out.
“M-maybe…”
“Maybe what?!”
“It… It’s still a theoretical magic spell, but I know about one that interacts with the gravity of the planet. It’s likely the most devastating magic in the nuclear family, but it requires an enormous amount of energy to activate, and every step requires exacting control…”
“…Gadora told me about it once. Gravity Collapse, right?”
Yes, Caligulio had heard about it. It was a spell that was still under research, merely a theory at this point in time. No example of it had ever been observed before, and even with otherworldly knowledge, research was at a standstill even in the theoretical phase. This tactical-level magic had the power to annihilate entire nations, not just battlefields. But as far as Caligulio knew, they had concluded that it’d be impossible to ever conjure it in real life.
But here it was. Executed in perfect fashion—by a single monster.
Now the term demon lord struck Caligulio’s brain with a palpable sense of fear. Have we meddled with someone who we never should have meddled with? he asked himself.
“I admire your knowledge, sir.”
The matter-of-fact tone of one of his staff officers brought him back to reality.
“But it’s theoretical!” he shouted back in frustration. “We were boasting about how we could slaughter Veldora if we made it work!”
“Indeed, sir. That’s how powerful that magic is. It’s practically limitless.”
At some point, the staff officers had polarized into two separate camps.
“It was from…from a monster? Just one of them could perform a magic that massive…?”
Some were in a state of panic…
“Astounding. Ah-ha-ha-ha! I’ll write a research paper on this when I get home! Now we, too, can get our hands on that spell!”
…and some were babbling at each other like madmen. One side had lost the will to fight; the other had lost their grip on reality.
At this point, the Empire’s command HQ was no longer functional. Nothing in the world could be done in the midst of these horrifying circumstances. But nonetheless, Caligulio was in command. He was responsible for the lives of what soldiers he had left. Throwing in the towel was the one thing he could never do…but the situation was no longer conducive to ordering a retreat. Counting the crazed troops who fled the front lines, there were less than two thousand men and women left in the main camp. They were chaotic, disorderly, and even if they somehow made it out of there, they were all doomed to be slaughtered.
Power. Power was the one thing Caligulio wished for right now. If you have power, all is forgiven—the iron rule the Empire always stuck to. Only through the overwhelming power they had was it possible for them to subjugate the whole world. But if you didn’t have power, you were doomed to face a tragic end—something that was obvious, given Caligulio’s current situation. As one of the three commanders at the top of the Empire, he was proud to be one of the world’s great power brokers—but now he finally realized it was all an illusion.
I can’t believe how powerless I really was. How incompetent. How weak. I had no idea I was such a miserable peon, constantly being exploited…
He couldn’t help but lament his fate. Fortune, fame, and everything that came with them were worthless in his current circumstances. When you got into serious trouble, there were far, far more important things you needed at hand.
“I wish I had power…”
Large tears spilled from Caligulio’s eyes. Nearly a million soldiers, people who believed in the glory of the Empire and the commander who led them, were dead. The impact of this undeniable truth was devastating him.
“R-reporting, sir! A huge flame was observed in the sky above the battlefield. Based on the amount of heat it generated, we believe the chances that anyone on the ground survived it are hopeless—”
“It’s over,” Caligulio’s first officer muttered. “The Empire’s been completely defeated…”
The rest of the staff fell silent. Even the ones trying to escape reality a moment ago were stunned, as if waking up from a dream. They tried to face the reality that awaited them, but their brains refused to accept it.
“…Let’s offer our surrender. Whether they’ll accept it is a gamble, but there’s a chance they’ll find us useful. At this rate, we’re all going to be killed anyway. I think it’s our only chance for survival, but what do you think?”
Better to be enslaved than dead. That was the thought behind this officer’s proposal, although he worried it was coming far too late. Nonetheless, Caligulio decided to accept the offer.
“…Right. Yes, it may be pointless, but let’s try to negotiate. At the very least, if we can turn the enemy’s attention toward us, that’ll give Misha and her comrades a better chance at escaping.”
Even if this battle ended with them all dying, their defeat would still have meaning if the Empire received the information they learned. That thought alone made Caligulio reluctantly agree. It was uncharacteristically modest of him, but his heart had long since been shattered.
Admittedly, thanks to this, he was able to think once more about the best course of action in this situation. If he had gained this state of mind earlier, it would have made him a master general for the ages, no doubt. It took him fully abandoning his greed and vanity to accomplish, but at long last, Caligulio had regained his original, latent intelligence.
But the decision came far too late. Any hope for Caligulio and his staff had long since disappeared.
“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… Surrender? Ooh, we can’t have that now, can we? I’m afraid you’ll have to deal with me for a few moments.”
Diablo, who had actually been in the tent for some time now, was dressed in his usual butler’s uniform, a smile on his handsome face. The moment he saw the demon, Caligulio realized the sheer difference in power between them. Now that he had regained his calm judgment skills, he wasn’t going to throw away his life for the sake of trivial pride. Negotiation came first now, so he had his guards lower their swords. That was undoubtedly the right thing to do. Any attempts at a fight were futile.
Out the corner of his eye, Caligulio spotted Krishna, cowering and intoning “I can’t… I can’t…” over and over. Just like the commander, he must have immediately recognized the overwhelming difference in strength. Internally praising himself for making the right decision, Caligulio decided to identify himself first.
“My name is Caligulio. I am the commander of this operation. May I ask your name?”
“Oh? How polite of you. My name is Diablo, loyal servant of the demon lord Rimuru.”
Diablo loved giving people his name. He couldn’t look more cheerful right now.
Caligulio took a moment to think. There was little chance they could beat Diablo, even if everybody in command HQ jumped him en masse. The sheer demonic energy they sensed was denser than that of the greatest of dragons, an aura of utter supremacy that outclassed even that of the demon lord Clayman, whom Caligulio was acquainted with. Plus, Diablo came here without giving away any hint of his presence. He had infiltrated their HQ without showing any sign of the supreme aura that oozed off of him now.
But despite such an absolutely powerful presence before him, Caligulio’s mind was tranquil. This is an opportunity for us. It sounds like he won’t accept our surrender, but he is willing to negotiate. If we can buy enough time, maybe we can keep this dangerous man at bay for long enough.
And that would offer more safety for Misha and the other escapees. But that hope was doomed to fail.
“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… Are you trying to stall for time, perhaps?”
“What?”
“Several of your people fled from here, and you’re serving as decoys for them. A truly excellent example of self-sacrifice, but I’m afraid it’s not going to help you. You see, I’ve already taken care of them.”
Diablo laughed. When a demon comes up to you, he’ll never let his prey go—and Diablo just proved it. Out of empty space, he produced two corpses and dumped them on the ground.
“Are those the Single Digits?!” a shocked Krishna shouted. They were the bodies of Bernie and Jiwu.
Intense fear ran through the command center. Krishna wasn’t the only one left speechless. Everybody in the tent knew what the defeat of not one, but two Single Digits meant. There was no beating Diablo. And not just that…
N-no… In that case… In that case, our deaths, and the deaths of all those soldiers… It’s going to be all for nothing!!
A deep despair struck Caligulio.
“Draw your swords! Intruder! Kill the intruder!!”
The guards responded to the second-in-command’s frenzied shouting. Unlike Krishna, the armed sentries knew nothing about Diablo’s strength, reacting without realizing just how reckless they were being.
“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… You lowly worms think you stand a chance against me?”
Diablo laughed in their faces. But Caligulio’s aide was undeterred.
“Silence, demon! There’s still over a thousand warriors surrounding you. Powerful or not, what can you do by yourself?!”
He was trying his best to mask his fear with rage. But Caligulio didn’t move. He wanted to scream at his assistant to stop, but he couldn’t even open his mouth any longer. His aide thought a thousand against one were good odds, but they weren’t, and he had to tell him, but he couldn’t…
Now Caligulio thought he understood what strength was. What Emperor Ludora wanted from them all. A single powerful figure can triumph over a million-strong army. The extreme, unthinkable magic they just saw was proof of that. And if they had even one monster capable of killing two Single Digits, the entire Armored Division was easily crushable this whole time.
And if he needed any more evidence:
“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… I’m afraid those words came a little too late. The only ones still alive in this camp, you understand, are all inside this tent.”
The aide didn’t understand what he meant for a moment. But Caligulio didn’t need to open a tent flap to know what must’ve happened. It was too quiet outside, something that had been nagging at him for a little while now.
Diablo snapped his fingers—and then the entire tent was blown away, letting the occupants examine the scene outside.
It was a field piled high with dead bodies. The soldiers had all passed, as if sleeping on top of each other—as if someone had silently extracted their souls from each of them…
That’s exactly what happened, Caligulio realized. Diablo took their souls. He didn’t let a single one resist him.
And now, once again, the tragedy played itself out before Caligulio’s eyes. Another snap of Diablo’s fingers, and Krishna and the others toppled over.
Waves of despair and sadness crested across the commander’s heart.
“Nn, nhh… Aaahhhhhhhhhhhhh…!!”
He screamed, shedding tears of blood. And right after that, his body was so saturated with emotions that he exploded.