THE DEMON LORDS
The demon lord Clayman awaited the appointed
hour, a glass of wine in his hand. The Walpurgis Council was tonight, and as a
mixture of anger and happiness danced across his face, he thought over a few
things.
First, the bad news.
Ignoring the warnings of his friend Laplace,
he had advanced his forces into the Beast Kingdom of Eurazania. But they had
failed to discover even a single citizen left there. The effort had gone to
waste.
The briefing from his commander Yamza drove
him into a fit of rage. But until they knew why this happened, giving further
orders would be careless. Instead, Clayman decided to gather his forces
together and carefully continue the search.
What they found was a group of stragglers,
frantically attempting to flee the kingdom. Upon being advised of them, Clayman
immediately ordered an attack, sending scouts to the area to search for anyone
else hidden nearby. They eventually found several hundred civilians in hiding,
but as they attempted to dispatch them all, they immediately ran away.
Finding this suspect, the army conducted
further investigation, only to discover that a larger group of some several
thousand refugees was fleeing toward the Forest of Jura. The small group of
several hundred was just bait to help the rest of them flee.
Those insolent…!
Now Clayman knew why there was nobody left
living in the Beast Kingdom. They had undergone a mass emigration to Tempest,
relying upon Rimuru for their continued survival. The stragglers were also on
to the Clayman force’s activity, fleeing the area once the bait was taken.
He wanted to have those souls safely hunted
and collected before Walpurgis, but it just wasn’t going to happen. He had to
admit that now, and it made him deeply unhappy.
“Yamza, the Council is about to begin. I want
your entire force to chase them down before I return. Kill every last one of
them and bring the survivors before me!”
“I swear to you it shall happen, sir!”
He nodded, but it did nothing to overturn the
fact that he wouldn’t be awakening tonight. It annoyed Clayman terribly as he
closed the magical link.
Meanwhile, there was
good news to be had.
Using his feelers in the ground—electric
signals and natural geomagnetism—he was constantly gathering information.
Nobody had been fully aware of this power yet, giving Clayman free rein over a
vast array of data. It was what allowed him to enjoy the alias of Marionette
Master.
At the time he gained this skill, it permitted
him to interact only with people or things within his line of vision. Now,
however, thanks to ceaseless training and effort, it had become the keystone force
of his entire empire. This unique skill—Manipulator, it was called—converted
information into encrypted communications as it conducted surveillance over a
wide area. Deploying a member of his team to an area allowed them to function
as his eyes and ears to gather intelligence.
It was this vast network that informed him
that Veldora, the Storm Dragon, had revived. This, in itself, was not welcome
news—but the human beings who had spoken with the Storm Dragon and apparently
survived the experience had some very fascinating things to say.
According to conversations surreptitiously
heard from adventurer types leaving the monster town, Rimuru, self-styled
leader of the forest, hadn’t defeated the Farmus force at all. The missing army
was the result of the Storm Dragon’s resurrection—and since he had only just
been reborn, the dragon’s stores of magicules were largely lost, emptied out as
it raged upon Farmus’s army. That explained why there was no massive onrush of
magicules around the Forest of Jura, as one would expect from such a
cataclysmic event. That these adventurers lived to tell the tale was another
sure indicator.
If the Storm Dragon Veldora was alive once
more, there was no way Clayman, a demon lord, wouldn’t have picked up on that.
The rumors must have been true, then—he lost his magic force during the battle
with Farmus.
These two pieces of
news conflicted Clayman.
It would be a simple matter to slay that dragon
right now. I may even be able to add him to my cache of pawns…
A tantalizing fantasy. The dragon has been
using the town the monsters built as his personal den, it seemed, and it was
hard to gather information in that area…but he felt no need for concern. Those
empty stores of magicules wouldn’t rebuild themselves in two or three days. After
Walpurgis, he’d have all the time in the world to snare him.
And if all else fails, I can simply send Milim
after him. For now, though…
It was time to concentrate on the Council.
Or perhaps, if Clayman hadn’t been
over-reliant upon Milim’s strength…he might have noticed all the points that
didn’t quite add up.
The fact that there wasn’t a single enemy
casualty yet. The force, reportedly scattered all across the Beast Kingdom, was
now gathered together. Both pieces of information were too important for someone
as careful as Clayman to overlook. But it wasn’t Clayman on the ground—it was
Yamza. And Clayman’s mind was too full of the upcoming Council to notice. That
was how vital this Walpurgis was.
Out of nowhere, Ramiris—a demon lord who
preferred to remain incognito, cooped up in her labyrinth, most of the
time—asked for Rimuru, the subject of the meeting, to be extended an invite as
a supplementary condition. Clayman hadn’t accounted for that possibility; it
prevented him from making a snap judgment. But as he groused over it, the
others quickly agreed to the suggestion, making it impossible to stage any
resistance.
Still, this could lead to good things for him.
It’s better this way. Now we’ve unmasked Rimuru’s
true nature. I was almost fooled into believing that he leveled the Farmus
military by himself…but there’s no hiding the truth.
Clayman grinned. If Rimuru was joining the
Council, he should consider himself welcome. There, before all the other demon
lords, he’d know exactly how powerless he really is.
A mere slime, borrowing the majesty of a dragon
for his boasts! I hope you consider it an honor to be crushed by my own hands!
He went back to fantasizing about his own
future glories. And that was why he missed it. Those small yet glaring
inconsistencies out on the battlefield.
“…You be careful, too,
okay, Clayman? Now’s not the time to be too reckless.”
His friend’s words
flashed across his mind. Now, a small sense of unease was taking root. The
nagging feeling that he had missed something. But he laughed it off.
Don’t you worry, Laplace. I will win this…
He drained his wineglass, as if to wash the
anxiety away.
It was with a somber
gloom that Frey prepared for the Council. Things were in a constant state of
flux. The original plan had all but gone by the wayside. She didn’t expect any
of this, and now it was all too unclear how things would shake out.
But she wasn’t nervous. She was aware of her
limits, and she always made decisions based on cold, hard facts. That was how
the Sky Queen always acted. If all went well, then fine. If not…she would have
to prepare to make the right move herself.
It all began with a
certain promise. In order to defeat Charybdis, she had accepted an offer from
Clayman. In exchange, she agreed to take one request from him.
………
……
…
Several months ago, Milim visited Frey’s
domain. She didn’t exactly slip in unnoticed. There was a loud bang! as she shoved the doors open and ran into the room.
Frey didn’t bat an eye. Milim always acted
like this. When she felt that massive aura—one Milim never bothered to hide—she
knew it had to be her.
“Hey, Frey! Beautiful day out, huh?!”
She beamed at her, playing around with her
beautiful platinum-pink hair to show it off. Was Frey busy at the moment? Who
cares?
On Milim’s hand, however, was something new.
Not a ring—a brass knuckle covering her four fingers. It was something far too
boorish for most young women, but on Milim, it couldn’t have been more perfect.
It had a relief of a dragon carved into it, half aglow in magical aura, and it
fit snugly in her clenched little hand.
“Mmmm, maybe a little too hot, though?” she
said as she fanned her face with one hand. It was obvious what she was doing.
She never gave a crap about the weather.
“Oh, Milim. Haven’t seen you in a while. You
look like you’re doing well. Did something nice happen to you?”
Frey had to take the bait. Otherwise, she’d
have to put up with this act for the next hour.
“Ooh, you could tell? Well, just look at
this!”
She thrust her Dragon Knuckle–equipped hand in
front of Frey’s face, giving her a proud little eh-hem!
Frey glumly sighed. “Oh, wow,” she said,
giving Milim what she thought the girl wanted. “It looks great on you. Where’d
it come from?”
“Oh, you wanna know?” came the bashful reply.
“Oooh, I dunno if I can tell you or not… Hmm, ohhh, what should I doooo?”
This I’m-the-best act was grating on Frey.
Despite all the years they had known each other, it still rankled her.
“Well, aren’t we friends,
Milim? It’s all right to tell me, isn’t it?”
Milim’s eyes sparkled. “Ooh! Oh yeah, we sure
are friends, huh?! Okay, I’ll tell you! To tell the truth—”
Now that Milim finally had the invitation she
wanted, she burst into a long story about the town of monsters she visited. The
self-aggrandizing tale went on for a while, accompanied by several wardrobe
changes from the new clothes she picked up there. It gave Frey some pause.
Milim loved carrying on about herself all the time, but rarely to this level.
Once the conversation died down a little, Frey
realized that now was the time to do the favor she promised Clayman.
“Oh, right. You know, Milim, I actually have a
present for you, too. From friend to friend. Would you like to see it?”
She signaled to her attendants. They quickly
brought over a tray bearing a beautiful, shining pendant, perched on top of
purple satin cloth. An orb had been installed on the pendant, a jewel that even
someone who knew nothing about precious stones could tell was worth a fabulous
amount of money.
“Mm? A pendant, huh? Can I have it? But that
doesn’t mean you can have my knuckle, okay?”
Frey chuckled. “That’s fine, Milim. Consider
it a symbol of our friendship. And as a friend, I hope you won’t be too shy to
wear it around.”
Milim gave a bright nod to Frey’s soft smile.
“You got it!” she chirped as she attached it to her clothing.
Forbidden magic: Demon
Marionette launching… Activated.
At that instant, the
expression on Milim’s face changed. Her eyes glazed over; the light of
consciousness faded away from them. With the magic in the pendant released, a
forbidden spell wormed its way into her.
This jewel was the Orb of Domination provided
by Clayman to Frey—and having Milim put it on was the promised favor Clayman
asked of her.
So there’s my promise. That takes care of my
duty, but what will Milim do…?
Frey observed the girl. She stood there
motionless, face a total blank. Then, for just a single moment, she felt like
Milim’s blue eyes looked at her.
There, at that moment, Milim knew something
weird was happening. Maybe… Yes. Indeed. I suppose it is,
Milim…
The Dragon Knuckle fell out of her fingers,
clunking on the ground. Frey looked at her and sighed.
“I’m done, Clayman,” she called out to an
empty corner of the room. “Are you happy?”
“I am,” the Marionette Master replied,
emerging from the corner. “Well done, Frey. Now I’ve obtained the strongest
puppet there is! Ha-ha-ha-ha! This is what she gets for picking on me, calling
me a young upstart. Pathetic, isn’t it, Milim?!”
He punched her as he laughed his nasal laugh.
Her face reddened, a cut appearing on her lips. The multiple layers of Barrier
protecting her were gone, meaning that even she could be hurt now—especially if
it was a demon lord like Clayman doing the hurting.
“Shouldn’t you stop that?” Frey coldly
commented as the half-giggling Clayman prepared to land another blow. It wasn’t
a pretty sight to see, and besides—
“Pfft! This isn’t the sort of weak curse
that’ll undo itself after a punch or two. This is forbidden
magic. It includes all the magic force I can muster from my body. Don’t you
resent her at all, after the way she acted around all of us? That’s
why you joined me on this plan, is it not?”
“It’s not. I just fulfilled my promise to
you.”
“No need to lie to her face like that, you
know. This girl is nothing more than a doll to us now. A pointlessly sturdily
made doll, I should add. We can just fix her before she falls completely
apart.”
The veins were visible in his eyes as he
kicked Milim away, Frey coldly watching the whole time. Such
an impertinent man. This is how you really are…?
It was at that moment when Frey abandoned
Clayman for good. Thus, she decided to act on her own instincts for a change.
“Listen, Clayman. Maybe you don’t know, but
Milim comes with a self-defense mechanism, all right? The way she described it,
at least, it’s called Stampede, and it puts her in an uncontrollable state.
You’re free to trigger that and die if you like, but try not to take me with
you.”
The words were enough to restore Clayman’s
composure. He resentfully groaned. “Psh. What a bastard of a demon lord this
is. Very well. Using her should give my words a little
more presence among us all. And you, Frey; you’re a coconspirator as well. I’ll
expect you to work for me.”
“Oh? I thought we were equals.”
“Fool! I’m the one who came up with this plan.
You’re already one of my pawns. Or would you like to engage Milim in battle?”
“…Are you threatening me?”
“Ha-ha-ha-ha! You can take that any way you
like. But if you don’t want to die, I’d suggest not angering me.”
It was classic Clayman—sometimes offering the
carrot, other times the stick, but always with a heaping helping of arrogance.
And it’s true; this was Clayman’s plan all along.
That, and it was his hint to Frey that Milim had a weakness for the word friend. How he managed to learn that
little tidbit, she didn’t know, but all Frey did was keep her promise—although
she only did so because of one she firmly believed in.
“…All right.”
“Good. Just don’t think about doing anything
to betray me. As long as you listen to my requests a bit, I will personally
guarantee your position as ruler of the skies.”
The escape route was cut off. Now Frey was
Clayman’s business associate—a fancy name for his puppet. All of this happened
several weeks before the Day of Ruin that visited Tempest.
………
……
…
Thinking it all over again, Frey sighed.
With Milim under his wing, Clayman was using
her overwhelming potential violence as a cudgel to coerce her with. Now Frey
was simply following orders, forced to do his bidding.
She couldn’t help but laugh at how much she
deserved this. She felt like such a fool for believing him. But she also had
another thought. Clayman was a sly, conniving demon lord, never one to play
down, but he also tended to overestimate his own powers. That’s why he never
had a perspective on the true essence of things. Frey, luckily, was blessed
with exactly those observational skills—not a “skill” like breathing fire, but
something she naturally picked up in her relations with other people. The
ability to see the kind of truth that someone like Clayman, who treated people
as nothing more than useful tools, could never notice.
So, trusting her instincts, she made a bet.
And no matter how it turned out:
I don’t think you’ll be alive for much longer,
Clayman.
She began going over the procedure to come.
The “promise” came to mind once again. It made her smile.
The frigid land was
encased in howling snow and ice, surrounded by frozen tundra. Temperatures
stayed at well below zero degrees Fahrenheit, driving away nearly all life.
In the middle of it all stood a tall, looming
castle, a beautiful, fantastical palace. A demon castle, one materialized from
an unimaginable amount of magical force. It was called Icefayr Castle, and it
was the domain of the demon lord Guy Crimson.
A calm, collected man
strode along a corridor inside the castle, his hair of platinum blond, eyes
long and narrow. Those blue eyes were a prominent feature of his chiseled
visage. His skin was fair, practically translucent, and his beauty would almost
make some assume he was female.
This was the demon lord Leon Cromwell, known
alternately as either the Platinum Devil or the Platinum Saber, and he stalked
the halls of this castle like he owned them.
Ahead of him was a large door, decorated
ornately by a master woodsmith. It led to the audience chamber where the master
of this domain awaited. Leon was here to see Guy Crimson, and as he stood
before the door, two large, heavy magic-born grunted and strained to open it
up.
“The demon lord Leon Cromwell has arrived!”
A beautiful female magic-born beyond the door
shouted Leon’s name as he entered. There, he saw two lines of powerful Greater
Demons lining the way ahead on both sides. Each one was a named demon, and each
had been granted physical corpuses for use in this world. All of them were
powerful beyond the definition of a Greater Demon, easily surpassing what a
high-level magic-born could manage. They were also bedecked in a fine array of
magical equipment, each having evolved in their own unique ways. They numbered
two hundred or more in all, and some were even calamity-class threats, rated
Special A on the scale.
But not even these demons could defy the
figures beyond—the sheer overpowering awe exuded by the six demons that
surrounded the throne in the chamber’s midpoint, under the watchful eye of Guy
Crimson.
These were named Arch Demons, capable of
subduing even calamity-class monsters. If anything, they could be defined as
demon lords themselves.
Amazingly, not even these
demon kings were allowed to speak freely in this chamber—for there was a wall,
an impregnable force, that none of them could ever conquer.
The green-haired demon
that heralded Leon’s arrival was soon joined by a demon with blue hair that
guided him down the aisle. She was gorgeous, the personification of all human
desires. Her graceful, wispy arms were hidden in the sleeves of a dark-red
maid’s dress.
The green-haired one was Mizeri, the
blue-haired one Raine, and they were the two pillars who stood on both sides of
the absolute ruler Guy Crimson, doing the speaking for him. They were both
Demon Peers, superpowered creatures that each rated a disaster
classification—the equal of a demon lord.
Now Leon was at the
throne. Mizeri and Raine nodded at him, then took their posts beside Guy as the
man on the throne stood up. The only people in this room allowed to move a
muscle were the two demon lords.
“It gladdens me to see you, Leon,” he said in
a clear voice that carried across the chamber. “Doing well, I hope? I
appreciate your answering my invitation.”
His bloodred eyes had stars of gold and silver
dancing in them, and his wavy, burning hair was a deep shade of rouge. He was
about as tall as Leon, and while Leon was feminine in his beauty, Guy’s was
more prideful and distant. He had an alluring sort of attractiveness, the look
of one born to lead—and conquer.
He walked down the steps from his throne as he
greeted Leon, bringing an arm to his chest and embracing him. Then, without
hesitation, he placed his hand upon Leon’s face and kissed his lips.
Leon pushed him away, wincing. “Leave me,” he
complained, like he always did. He glared at Guy, looking genuinely peeved. “I
am not interested in other men. How many times have I told you?”
“Ah-ha-ha-ha! Oh, you never were any fun like
that,” Guy gleefully replied. “I’d be happy to become a woman for you, if you
like. But very well. Let us change locations.”
He walked off, without waiting for a response.
This, too, was how it happened every time.
Considering the arctic
region he lived in, Guy’s clothing was quite unusual. He mostly had his clothes
draped over him, revealing a great deal of bare skin. To Guy, who never felt
the cold anyway, that was never an issue. He wore a near-mystical smile to
complement his bewitching beauty, perhaps recalling the sensation of Leon’s
lips against his—and then a snakelike tongue licked his bright-red lips,
creating an eerie sort of irresistible allure.
For Guy, who could adjust his gender at will,
men and women were both targets of his sexual appetite. He—or she,
depending—was Guy Crimson, demon lord, master of this castle, and the oldest
and strongest of demon lords. As the Lord of Darkness, he was the sole and
absolute ruler of this blindingly cold continent.
Guy pressed on ahead,
not bothering to guide Leon. Leon followed behind, as if this was normal to
him. No one else in the audience chamber moved until they were both gone. It
was forbidden. They all bowed their heads to them, waiting for their ruler and
his guest to leave.
Once all were sure they were gone, Mizeri and
Raine stood before the rows of demons. And then, a single word from Raine:
“Disperse.”
Then the two Demon Peers left, setting off to
prepare tea for their guest. They were the highest-ranked among all the demons
in this castle, but their sole occupation was to take care of Guy Crimson. This
work was prioritized above all else in this domain—and so they quickly set off,
not wanting to attract their master’s ire.
………
……
…
Following Guy, Leon stepped into the ice
terrace on the highest floor of the castle. Despite being open to the elements,
not a single snowflake made its way inside. It was a comfortable, fully
air-conditioned environment, and since Guy was wholly unaffected by the
temperature around him, he had set this up exclusively for Leon’s sake. He
might have been arrogant, but when it came to his friends or those who
recognized his authority, he took care of them down to the last detail.
Musing about how little Guy had changed, Leon
gruffly threw himself down in his seat. It was made of ice but didn’t feel cold
at all. That didn’t faze him, nor did the way the ice bent pliably under him,
providing a soft cushion.
“So,” he asked, “what did you call me here
for?”
An ice table appeared out of nowhere. Raine
lined up two cups of tea on it, as Mizeri soundlessly stood by the terrace
entrance. They were not to interfere with their masters’ speech, unable to
speak themselves without permission. This was not at all an equal relationship.
Until ordered, they could not even allow their emotions to be shown in public.
If they ever acted on their own without their master’s orders, they would be
provided with nothing but a quick death.
Even Demon Peers as powerful as them both were
mere tools before the demon lord. That was how strong Guy was, and that was why
they wouldn’t move even if Leon attacked Guy right there. His rule was
absolute, and worrying for his safety was the height of disrespect. Their
presences were thus ignored as the conversation continued.
“Well, as you know, a Walpurgis Council is
coming soon. I thought I should implore you to attend, no matter how
inconvenient it was.”
“Oh? Rare of you to force anything upon me
like that.”
“I know. Even if it means I owe you a favor, I
want you to participate.”
“…Why is that?”
“Ha!” Guy smiled, enjoying this. “Wary as
always, I see. Very well. Let me explain. It was Clayman who proposed this one.
A little man. But for some reason, Milim’s name was among the cosigners. Milim
is one of the oldest demon lords, up there with me. She wouldn’t lift a finger
for someone the likes of Clayman. So I believe…”
“You believe that reports of Carillon’s death
might not be entirely true?”
“Oh, you know, do you?” Guy resented having
his thoughts guessed so easily.
Leon paid it no mind. “Clayman went too far,”
he continued. “He tried to harass me without leaving any evidence behind, but
I’m not letting it pass this time. Whether Carillon lives or not, if Milim is
taking action, that is bad news.”
Guy gave this a relieved nod. “Hmm. I agree
with you. This might be just another game to Milim, but I don’t like to see
anyone tipping the balance of power among the demon lords. It just gives me
more work.”
Waiting to make sure Guy was no longer peeved,
Leon decided to tackle the question that interested him the most.
“So, Guy, do you think Milim is being
controlled by Clayman?”
“Thinking about Milim is pointless,” came the
blunt reply. “Someone like me is too intelligent to read the behavior of a
moron. That is one of my very few weaknesses.” He shrugged and gave Leon a
broad grin, then went back to his first question. “But if you worry about it
that much, Leon, should I assume you will be participating?”
Leon could tell that dancing around each other
like this would lead them nowhere. “Yes, I intend to. I hate working with
others, but this time, I suppose I have no choice.”
“Oh? Well, very good. Before then, I was
hoping we could embrace each other in bed later this evening—”
“I have no interest in men. Or
in women, unless they strike my fancy. Besides, what benefit would embracing
you, as you put it, have for me?”
“You don’t have to start with that. If you wish, I would happily take on a woman’s body
for you…”
Guy slithered in for a hug. Leon, seeing it a
mile away, dodged it beautifully. One saw this little exchange between them on
regular occasions.
“By the way,” he said after it was clear Leon
wasn’t putting up with it, “it’s rather rare for Ramiris to provide feedback to
us one way or the other, but do you know anything about this ‘Rimuru’ person?”
This was another topic of the next Walpurgis,
something everyone had an interest in since it’d mark the first new demon lord
after Leon.
“The way Clayman puts it,” Leon replied, “he’s
just a self-styled demon lord. Personally, if he has the strength to back it
up, I have no problem with him.”
“Ah. So you think Rimuru is qualified to be a
demon lord? I was just wondering, since Ramiris, of all people, is involved. If
someone’s piqued her interest that much, it should be
a lot of fun for me.”
Although this Walpurgis was convened by
Clayman, Ramiris had made the additional proposal of having Rimuru himself
attend. By Guy’s estimate, Ramiris must’ve had something to say about Clayman’s
actions here.
“…Ramiris? I have trouble dealing with that
fairy. She makes fun of me every time we meet. I’ve thought about strangling
her to death countless times…”
…But if it was Ramiris making this request,
Leon had to agree with it. He couldn’t help but feel like he owed that much to
her.
“Ah-ha-ha-ha! Better not. If you kill her,
you’d be making me your enemy, you realize.”
“I’m sure. I wasn’t being serious. Besides, there’s
no way I’d win in a fight against you.”
That was no lie. Leon was no fan of Ramiris
and her big mouth, but he didn’t actually mean her harm. And to be honest, he
had no hope of beating Guy. They were both equal in demon lord rank, but the
difference in strength was like night and day. Leon was closer to Mizeri and
Raine than Guy on that score. There was just no comparison.
“Mm? I wouldn’t be so sure. Maybe you’d kill
me one in a million times?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not interested in a
fight I’m not guaranteed to win.”
“Quit being so modest. There aren’t many
people who could wound me. The mere fact that you have a chance of killing me
makes you more than strong enough, Leon.”
“Pfft. The truth’s the truth. You and Milim
are on a different echelon from us. And speaking of that…”
Leon was reminded of something—the reported
resurrection of Veldora, the Storm Dragon. And when he told that story, Leon
managed to honestly shock Guy for the first time in his life.
Just then, an icy,
shrill voice echoed across the terrace, cutting them off.
“Oh my. I am very
interested in that topic.”
The voice was a perfect match for the
beautiful woman it belonged to. Her skin was like porcelain, her eyes a
fascinating sort of cold, glowing blue diamond in color. Her pearl-white hair
cascaded past her cheeks, where the light-green shade of her lips drew the eye.
She was allowed to move and speak without
Guy’s permission, shining more beautifully than any crown jewel. She was
praised as the Ice Empress by some, but to the rest of the world, she was known
as Velzard, the Ice Dragon—one of only four dragon types to exist, and the
demon lord Guy Crimson’s friend and partner. Just like Leon, she was on equal
footing with Guy.
“Ah, Velzard,” Leon said, dripping with
sarcasm. “I suppose there was a dragon type here,
wasn’t there?”
“My, cold as always, aren’t we? But I’m glad
to have the chance to see you.”
“Are you? Well, it’s a great honor to have a
glimpse at your face.”
There was little real emotion behind this
exchange.
“You never did get along with each other,” Guy
observed with a groan. Not that he had any interest in mediating. Normally,
this would kick off a series of back-and-forth put-downs, but today Velzard
changed the subject.
“So the topic you were discussing? Sir Leon,
my younger brother has awoken?” Her blue eyes were shining as she asked for
details on Leon’s big news. “You are sure of that, Leon?”
“I stopped feeling his presence two years ago,
so I assumed he had met his end, but…?”
If Veldora had resurrected himself, it
would’ve been obvious. His massive, out-of-control aura would’ve changed the
world’s weather patterns. But none of that happened. Guy and Velzard could be
excused for their shock.
“It’s no mistake. A spy I sent to the Western
Nations reported as much to me.”
“Oh…? So why is that evil dragon acting so
obedient? Has he weakened to the point that he can no longer replenish his
magicule stores?”
“And who would’ve undone the seal placed upon
him? I don’t think he could’ve broken out by himself…”
The Hero had sealed Veldora away—and Velzard
had done nothing to save him from it. To her, this was a good way to teach
Veldora a lesson for all that selfish rioting. She figured she would spring him
out before he disappeared for good, once he was a bit more mature. But then he
really did disappear, which perplexed her. It happened
much quicker than she anticipated.
“As the spy put it, Clayman’s scheming was the
cause. He had impressed upon the Western Nations, and the larger kingdom of
Farmus in particular, to defeat and destroy the Great Forest of Jura Alliance
this Rimuru character has established. The results cost Farmus its entire
military force and caused Rimuru to place his hat in the demon lord ring.”
“You know much about this, Leon.”
“Of course I do. I’m a former human, unlike
you. I’ve also just recently learned that Veldora was apparently sleeping right
in the middle of the most intense combat. Just before his soul disappeared for
good, he was exposed to vast amounts of blood, and it awoke him. That is the truth.”
The Farmus troops were subsequently massacred
by his rage, he went on to explain, although Rimuru escaped injury.
“So that’s it? The
seal just undid itself?”
“That much, I can’t tell you.”
Velzard nodded at this. Leon could be right,
but a single spy’s report wasn’t enough to make a policy decision from. The
Hero’s unique skill Unlimited Imprisonment encased its target in a dimension of
an imaginary number, shutting out any access or interaction with the real
world. But now Veldora was exercising his presence here, once more?
“Perhaps the Hero’s seal wasn’t so complete
after all…”
This made sense to her…before Leon corrected
her.
“That’s possible, yes, but I have another
theory. What if someone swallowed Veldora up, seal and all, and placed him in
another subspace of their own making?”
Guy smiled giddily at this. “Ooh, I like that!
So someone did undo the Hero’s seal, then! The seal’s too interwoven with the
Hero’s own abilities to be undone by any normal skill. Perhaps you or I could
do it…but if this person exists, then he must be as powerful as us. How fun!”
“It is just a possibility, keep in mind.”
“And you think this person might be Rimuru,
Leon?”
“…Exactly.”
“I see, I see. Then we definitely do need to size this person up.”
Now it made sense to Guy. No wonder Leon
wasn’t showing his typical reluctance to attend a Council. Clayman was engaged
in reckless violence; Milim was acting unusually strange; Rimuru undid
Veldora’s seal and declared himself demon lord. What if all these events were
actually connected? At the very least, it’d make this Walpurgis a hell of a lot
of fun.
A longing smile erupted across Guy’s face.
“You know,” he whispered, “why Veldora is acting so obedient, then?”
“…I think he’s been weakened,” replied
Velzard. “I’m receiving only the tiniest of reactions from his presence.
Nothing like before.”
Even as a fellow dragon type, Velzard had to
concentrate to receive even a weak blip from her younger brother. If his energy
had been drained, that would explain that.
“Strange that he hasn’t acted out at all,
though. With his personality, violence is practically what he lives for.”
Velzard was having trouble making sense of all
this, too.
“Well, be that as it may,” Leon
matter-of-factly replied, “I’m not terribly interested in Veldora. If you want
to try to drag an old friend of yours back here, be my guest.”
While Velzard was family, and Guy had torn his
hair out figuring out what to do with Veldora in the past, Leon had no
connection to Veldora. As long as this dragon didn’t mess with his domain, he
had no intention of being involved. That’s how dangerous Veldora was to him.
“Are you leaving?”
“Yeah. That’s all you needed from me, right?”
“Well, one moment. No need for all the rush. I
wanted to ask: Have you made any progress in pursuing your real goal? You know,
targeted summoning?”
Guy was referring to the experimentation Leon
had spent much of his life working on. He was just as interested in the subject
as Leon.
“…Not quite yet on that, no. I changed up my
plan and tried having them perform summons at random, but that ended in failure
as well. It just attracted too much attention, you see. I brought the theory of
‘incomplete summons’ to the Western Nations, but the Free Guild interfered with
me. It’s already a horribly inefficient way of going about this business, and
it’ll face another obstacle in the future. Once it does, I’ll just have to find
another way.”
To put it in an extreme way, Leon really
didn’t care about the Council or the new demon lord. He was simply trying to
pick out young weeds before they grew and got in his way.
“Obstacle?”
“Yeah. This one apparently saved the lives of
some kids who were just waiting to die. Before I could pick them up, no less.”
“Ah. So they were forced into rescue before
you saw any results? And you’re sure you’ll continue being interfered with?”
“Seems likely. He got angry about all these
nations summoning children, so he may start applying pressure to each of them.
So it’s time to clear out that experiment. If we go any further with it, he’ll
find out that I’m there, behind the scenes.”
“Hmm. Could you perhaps rub out this
hindrance?”
Guy hinted with his eyes that it’d be all too
easy for Leon. But his friend simply sighed.
“Well, this ‘hindrance’ is the exact Rimuru we
were just discussing.”
“What?! That’s no coincidence, is it?”
“Funny, isn’t it?” Leon nodded, face dead
serious. “That’s why I wanted to meet him for myself sometime.”
Of course, he still could’ve afforded to
ignore this Rimuru person, if only Ramiris hadn’t chosen to stick her nose in…
“All right. This seems to be getting more
curious all the time. Perhaps Milim is thinking along similar lines, too. She
may be a moron, but she’s got quite the instinct for this kind of thing.”
“Perhaps. Tonight’s Walpurgis could be a
rather raucous occasion.”
“Hee-hee! No doubt about it.”
Leon and Guy exchanged smiles as the gentle
blue eyes of Velzard watched over them. They proceeded to chitchat a little
more before Guy changed the subject.
“By the way, I had been wondering about
something else. Who is this collaborator of yours providing your information?”
“I don’t know much about him. He seems to be a
human from the Empire, and he calls himself a merchant.”
Summoning an otherworlder required vast
amounts of magical energy, exacting conditions, and convoluted rituals to work.
The pickier you were about who you summoned, the longer you had to wait before
you could attempt the summon again. To get around this, Leon did some business
with this merchant, who then conducted the summons for him.
“And this merchant can be trusted?”
“Trusted? Trust never needs to be involved.
All I’m doing is using him.”
“Ah. Well, if that’s fine with you, I have no
complaints. But be careful, all right? I don’t want you dying on me.”
“Heh. You, worried about me? That’s a rare sight
from you, Guy. But don’t worry. I have no plans to die until I’m finished with
my goals.”
“Again with those ‘goals.’ It’s that important
to you?”
“It sure is. I’d put them ahead of well near
everything else in this world.”
“Hmm. I’m starting to feel jealous.”
“Don’t give me that nonsense. But I will
accept your warning. See you tonight.”
With that, Leon left the terrace. Guy
refrained from stopping him this time, as Leon left a single shining crystal
and used Spatial Motion to set off.
A pair of eyes watched
him go.
“Talk about impatient. I know that’s how Leon
is…”
Guy grinned a little as he spoke softly.
“It feels to me that Leon is leaving himself
uncharacteristically open to attack,” Velzard observed in her icy voice. “He’s
working with people without even knowing who they are. Should I investigate for
him?”
“Nah,” Guy replied, unconcerned. “Meddling in
Leon’s affairs would just offend him. I don’t want my friends to hate me.”
To him, Leon was a trusted friend, someone
whose personality he was keenly aware of by now. He knew about Leon’s talent
more than anyone else. If Leon wasn’t looking into his cohorts’ backgrounds, it
must have been because he saw no great need to.
“If he asks us for a favor, you can help him
out then.”
“All right.”
And that was the end of their conversation.
Now the attendees of
tonight’s Walpurgis were set in stone.
Clayman proposed the Council; Frey and Milim
signed on to it. Ramiris, with her additional proposal, was also attending, as
was the homebody Leon.
Speaking of homebodies, there was another
demon lord whose location was a complete enigma. Guy had reached out via their
specialized demon lord connection, all but demanding that one’s attendance.
Beyond that, there was his old friend
Daggrull, along with… Hmm. What about that other guy? He should
be coming. Daggrull promised to bring him along. And that just left Guy
himself. It’d mark the first Walpurgis in a while to have all the demon lords
show up, except for the missing Carillon.
“It should be a fun one, for sure. You want to
join me?”
“Hmm…” Velzard reflected on this. “No, I think
I won’t. Perhaps if my brother were there, but otherwise, I have no interest in
demon lords.”
“No? All right. Keep the lights on for me.”
“I would be glad to. Now, time to prepare.”
Velzard stood up, leaving Guy to brood over
the upcoming Walpurgis as he gazed at the aurora covering the frigid land.
A demon lord working
behind the scenes, head full of schemes.
A newer demon lord, but one that could crumble
at any time.
An old friend who was starting to get
surprisingly active, considering he hardly left the house.
And then the potential birth of a new demon
lord.
So exciting! His heart
hadn’t sung like this for hundreds of years.
He needed real change like this. Demon lords
weren’t friends; they were supposed to be competing with one another. There was
no artificial limit placed on their number—there were times when a dozen
existed at once, even more. Whether it’s ten or a hundred, anything was fine.
If they weren’t strong enough, they’d get pushed out of the picture the next
time a Temma War came around, every five hundred years.
It’s just that each time that happened, this
new crop would fight for a piece of the pie, and to combat this, the maximum
number of demon lords was finally set at ten. The human world, once they became
aware of this, started calling them the Ten Great Demon Lords. Guy was firmly
against it, but it became a sort of tacit agreement among them. The humans
didn’t mind the demon lords picking one another off until they were a more
manageable number. Ten was enough.
But Guy figured it was time to put an end to
that. The weak didn’t deserve the title demon lord. Perhaps it was time for a
new era of rule to unfold—one, he thought, where real
demon lords held sway.
Guy was one of the
seven Primal Demons, and the first demon lord to be summoned to this world as
an Arch Demon. Each of these demons had a primary color associated with them,
and his was Rouge.
He was an unnamed demon unleashed upon the
world, fulfilling the wishes of the powerless human who summoned him and
destroying a nation that the human was apparently at war with. He followed that
up by destroying his human’s own nation as well. That earned him his name—Guy,
pronounced “ghee.” An unpleasant-sounding name, like the shrieks of the doomed
and desperate as he crushed them.
Upon being named, Guy realized he had awakened
into his new class of “true” demon lord. He thought it needless at first, given
that he believed he was already the strongest out there—but this evolution also
affected the Primal Demons Vert and Bleu, summoned alongside him as errand
girls. They, too, were given physical bodies to work with, as well as the
brand-new class of Demon Peer.
On a whim, Guy decided to make them his
servants and gave them names. For Vert, Mizeri, reflecting the misery of
mankind. For Bleu, Raine, the rains of blood that fell wherever he strode. They
had been faithful to him ever since.
Just after Guy awakened
to demon lord-dom, another one did the same. That was Milim, a girl conceived
by a human in this world and the first of the four dragon types that ever
threatened it. That dragon had paid for its strange dalliance by losing the
majority of his power to his own child. The act had been reviled as taboo ever
since.
Upon losing his power, the dragon type
dispersed his body, came to the surface to attain a physical form, and became
the founder of the dragons as they existed in this world. This led to dragon
types as being defined as the self-sentient propagations of natural spirits,
the prototypes, and all the dragons that existed and thrived in the world came
from this first father—Veldanava, the Star-King Dragon.
One day, the Star-King Dragon gave his
daughter a pet, a young dragon that would serve as his next incarnation
someday. This “pet” was killed by a certain foolish kingdom that ignited
Milim’s rage, causing the very heavens to tremble as the nation was destroyed.
This made Milim awaken, and the resulting new force sent her wholly out of
control, almost wiping all life away from the world.
It was Guy who stopped her. The battle took
place over seven days and seven nights, the most severe anyone had ever seen,
turning the bountiful fields of the west into an utter wasteland.
In the end, no winner could be crowned. The
battle ended once Milim regained her senses. It was Ramiris who did this, back
then a leader of spirits who sacrificed her own power to neutralize Milim’s
rage. She paid a heavy price for this. Being exposed to the auras of demons and
dragons sapped her force and made her fall to the world’s surface, becoming a
continually self-resurrecting fairy.
But it did the trick. It prevented the end of
the world and allowed Guy and Milim to come to an agreement.
These were the first
three demon lords, and each had their own goals.
One wanted to find the
farthest reaches of power.
One wanted to live free from all barriers.
One wanted to promote balance in the world.
But that was fine.
These differing goals were exactly why they could see one another as equals.
The demon lord ranks
were soon swelled by a giant protecting the gates to heaven, as well as a
vampire from ancient times. A figure fallen from heaven became number six. This
was the second generation—not as strong as the oldest but more than strong
enough to rule over the world.
The giant’s body was too imbued with the holy
element to allow the seeds of demon lord-dom to take root, but he was still so
blindingly strong that he got in anyway—an unusual path to take. The old
vampire was shrewd, sly, and more conniving than any of the others—although
someone else was currently occupying her seat at the Council for her.
The sixth one was interesting. Definitely
strong, but completely uninterested in the world. Laziness was the watchword
here. No doubt had the ability to rule the land but probably still living just
as “fallen” as ever somewhere.
Four out of the six demon lords at this point
had “awakened” to the job, apart from the giant and the fairy. They had
survived multiple Great Wars, polishing their skills with each one—enough so to
earn ultimate skills, like Guy’s and Milim’s.
In addition to them, there was Guy’s friend,
Leon. Leon was a human and a former Hero. A unique upbringing led to him
picking up an ultimate skill, making him strong enough even to satisfy Guy’s
strict standards.
That made seven. And how many of this next
Walpurgis’s attendees would live up to the standard of these seven? Guy
couldn’t wait to see.
And then there was
Clayman.
That fool thought he could rule over Milim. It
was just too hilarious. Guy could barely contain his laughter. That was impossible. If Guy couldn’t do it, there was no way
someone like Clayman could. Lower-level skills simply didn’t work on those who
possessed ultimate skills. All the natural laws that ruled this world were
nothing more than unique cases to them; they could easily nullify any magical
attempt to cloud their minds.
An elemental attack that struck at their weak
points might have some effect, yes. But mind-domination magic? Out of the
question. Anyone spineless enough to be ruled over by conditions like that would never be able to obtain an ultimate skill in the
first place.
Ultimate skills, as the name implied, gave the
wielder ultimate power to control the very laws of nature. The only way to
counter an ultimate skill was with another ultimate skill. That was the
absolute, unbendable rule of this world.
Clayman couldn’t do a thing against Milim.
Milim was just having him dance on the palm of her hand.
What a fool…
Guy flashed a weak smile as he watched the
events unfold.
The era of weaklings
styling themselves as demon lords had come to an end. The fakers would get
sifted out; the generation of true demon lords would begin. Guy was sure of it.
He smiled.
And thus he set off for
what was bound to be the most chaotic Walpurgis in recent memory.
Hi. I’m Designer of Blog Magic. I’m CEO/Founder of ThemeXpose. I’m Creative Art Director, Web Designer, UI/UX Designer, Interaction Designer, Industrial Designer, Web Developer, Business Enthusiast, StartUp Enthusiast, Speaker, Writer and Photographer. Inspired to make things looks better.
0 komentar:
Posting Komentar