IN THE LAND OF DESTINY

“Hoh, hoh-hoh-hoh… This is quite a surprise. I was expecting Yamza to turn tail and flee. But imagine, dispatching Charybdis that easily…”

“Mm-hmm! I kind of have an affinity for it, but not even we could pull off a kill like that.”

“Clayman’s forces are destroyed. The mission’s a failure—the losses immense. He should have just sat there and played nice, the way our fellow jester told him to.”

“Yes, yes. Well, Laplace warned him. Clayman can’t blame anyone for it but himself.”

Footman and Teare exchanged looks as they spoke. Before them was a heavily wounded Phobio, kept on his feet by the attending Geld.

“We’ll need to brief him about this, so I’m afraid playtime is over.”

Footman himself was unhurt. Teare wasn’t, but she was still healthy enough to fight. Judging by their injuries, Geld and Phobio appeared to have lost the day.

“You think you can leave?” Phobio groaned, staggering as he tried to keep himself up. “I knew you guys were bad news. If we can keep you here, Alvis and Sufia will show up before long. Plus, we’ve got Sir Benimaru. It’ll be the end for you.”

He was scarred from head to toe, but his wounds had already closed up. The speed at which they healed was mind-boggling, going well beyond the Self-Regeneration most beastmen had and almost reaching the realm of Ultraspeed Regeneration. Phobio had inherited that skill to some extent after the previous Charybdis swallowed him up.

“Just give it up already, kitty!” Teare shouted as she gave Phobio a punch that sent him reeling. It didn’t leave Phobio down for long. In a few moments, he was back on his feet.

Teare was the quicker of the two, but she could never quite land a lethal blow. Phobio, on the other hand, was slowly but surely damaging Teare’s body. He might have appeared defeated at first glance, but the longer the fight lasted, the more likely it was that it’d end otherwise.

Footman, meanwhile, was rolled up like a meatball, bounding around at hyper-speed and trying to run Geld down. Geld used his great shield to deflect his trajectory, swinging his Meat Cleaver to try to smash him up. His attempts were blocked by Footman’s thickened skin, preventing him from dealing decisive damage.

On offense and defense, it was safe to call them perfectly even—but only because Footman hadn’t begun seriously fighting yet. And now, with Charybdis defeated, Footman’s recess time was over.

“Mgh?!”

Geld, realizing this, positioned himself in front of Phobio.

“What is it, Geld?”

Before he could answer, Footman began raining attacks on the both of them. These were balls of magic, each one enormous and stuffed with energy—a simple attack but one with enough force to alter the landscape around them. One of the magic orbs was enough to shatter Geld’s shield and even smash up the armor covering his body. It damaged Phobio in the process, and he no doubt had Ultraspeed Regeneration to thank for still being alive.

(Hooooooh-hoh-hoh-hoh! We weren’t tasked with taking care of you two, so we’ll extend you the honor of letting you go.)

(I hope you’re grateful! If we were serious about this, neither of you would be in this world any longer!)

Neither Geld nor Phobio could stand up any longer to contest them. When the dust from the explosions finally settled, Footman and Teare were gone.

“…This was a total defeat,” Geld groused. “I thought I had some strength, but I suppose there’s always someone better than you.”

“No, Geld. If you hadn’t been here, I’d probably be dead right now. Sorry to drag you down…”

“Not at all. We may have lost the battle, but we’re still alive. As long as we win next time, we’re good.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right!”

Phobio was not a weak beastman. Footman and Teare were just too strong. Strong enough that you could even call them demon lords. Perhaps Geld had more magical energy at his fingertips, but without the ability to use it shrewdly, that power meant nothing. Geld focused entirely on defense against Footman, but even he knew that he’d never win in a serious fight opposite him. For now, though, that was fine.

(Sir Benimaru, the jesters have fled.)

(I saw,) came the Thought Communication reply. (They might think they’re letting us live. How naïve of them.)

Benimaru’s orders for Geld were to discover what the enemy was capable of and keep Phobio safe. I couldn’t just sit there and watch things unfold, he thought, but not killing me was a bad mistake. Sir Benimaru has recorded how that battle worked out—and then Rimuru will analyze it and break open the secret to their strength.

Thus, this was a defeat with some benefits to them. Mission accomplished. And if he can’t win now, he can close the gap with his future training. He had hoped to settle the score with these guys for using and abusing him, but Geld simply didn’t have what it took.

But next time, I’m winning, he silently resolved.

(I’ll go back to my command, then.)

(Please do. There’s one more dangerous element on the field right now, so I’d better tackle that.)

Sir Benimaru sure has it tough, Geld thought as he closed the link. This battlefield was full of dangerous elements, and since they had to deal with them all at once, he was forced to divvy up his army’s assets and scatter them around. Benimaru intended to sort these conflicts by priority and step in himself to handle any rescues needed, but one misstep along the line could lead to serious danger. He seemed to be handling his post well, however. One would think he’d focus on finding and killing Footman first, but he successfully managed to put overall victory above his own vendettas.

This isn’t some general with a thirst for blood, I suppose. Compared to when we fought him, the growth he’s shown has been amazing…

It made Geld trust in Benimaru all the more.

It was several minutes into the battle—minutes that, to Gabil and Sufia, felt like hours. But it ended unceremoniously.

“Mgh?!”

“What on…?!”

“Huff…huff… What…what is the matter…?”

After the second or third repetition, Sufia had learned how to roll with Middray’s throws, helping recover her energy. Gabil, meanwhile, had flung his spear wildly around at this attack he wasn’t used to, completely exhausting him. Middray, dealing with them both, appeared completely unhindered by fatigue—compared to sparring with Milim, this wouldn’t even make him break a sweat.

And Middray was the first to notice it.

“All forces, use your healing magics!” he shouted, the casual ease disappearing from his face. “Stand up! Stand up and rouse everyone around here!”

“This is bad, Father Middray,” Hermes said, apparently feeling much better now. “This guy… The reading I’m getting is huge.”

“I know that! This is Charybdis, the beast Lady Milim dispatched just the other day. Or is it its remains?”

“Yeah… It looks unstable to me. I imagine it’ll disintegrate before the day is through…”

“But this is a battlefield. If things go wrong, it could rapidly evolve. Better not to give a monster like that the food it craves.”

The fallen priests around him cast healing spells to revive both themselves and Team Hiryu under Gabil’s command.

“Charybdis?” Sufia asked. “The monster that used Phobio as a core to revive itself with?! I thought Lady Milim had already destroyed it!”

“Yes,” Gabil added, realizing this current match was over. “If it was Charybdis, Lady Milim definitely killed it…”

“Calm down. It’s not the real thing; just a fragment of its force. I think it used Yamza as its replacement core…”

Middray was using Dragon’s Glance to analyze the innards of the creature. It was not as strong as Milim’s own Dragon’s Eye, but it still provided him with ample enough vision and analysis skills.

Hermes, meanwhile, was surveying the area for any other potential threats. “Looks like you’re right, sir. That ass Yamza was trying to kill us, but his soul’s already been consumed. With how he is now, we’ll just have to keep damage to a minimum and wait for him to fall apart,” he coldly concluded.

“Did you hear that? Keep your weapons at the ready, people. And don’t get greedy! If buying time is all we need, that won’t be a tall order.”

“Let us help you out,” Gabil added, in sync with Middray as if they were old friends. “We are more used to high-altitude flight since last time. If we can catch those scale attacks before they strike, they cannot hurt us.”

Even a crazed, twisting beast like Charybdis had a tendency to chase after anything moving. A flying target, Gabil reasoned, would make the perfect lure. Sufia was also thinking unusually lucidly, trying to execute on what she could do here.

“Right,” Middray began, “I’ll aid in the retreat so it can’t feed off any of our ground forces and—”

But before he could finish, things took an abrupt turn as Benimaru all but vaporized Charybdis.

“What…on…?! He just pulled off the most unbelievable thing!”

“…Who is that guy? A demon lord? Unless you’re Lady Milim, how could some regular magic-born do that? He has to be some kind of monster…”

Only Middray and Hermes had an accurate bead on the situation. Sufia and Gabil saw it at the same time but couldn’t parse what just happened. All they could see was that the evil aura of Charybdis had been snuffed in an instant.

“Hey, what’s going on? Tell me!”

“Yes. We seek an explanation as well.”

“Yeah, um, I’d want to explain,” Hermes said, “but…”

“I don’t think we need to,” Middray finished.

Before either of them could, the air in front of them twisted and warped, revealing a magic-born with hair as red as roaring flames. It was Benimaru, sword rested on his shoulder, and he was here to take on Middray, the last threat on the battlefield.

“Well,” he said with a sneer, “I see you’ve been entertaining my friends?” Then he realized something wasn’t quite right about this picture. There was evidence of combat around him, but there were no injuries—and by the looks of things, no hard feelings on either side.

“Sir Benimaru, wait! These are Lady Milim’s fighters, the priests of the Dragon Faithful!”

“What? Lady Milim’s?! In that case…”

“Yes! They healed our wounds with magic!”

“…I see. It seems I’ve jumped to conclusions. You seemed like such a threat in this theater, I couldn’t help but be alarmed.”

“Wah-ha-ha-ha-ha! You didn’t jump to conclusions at all. We were actually fighting, yes. And we did perform some healing, but that was to prepare for what we thought was an oncoming disaster. Now I suppose all that wasn’t necessary.”

“…Ah. So what now? Are you taking us on?”

“Well, what should we do…?”

“Because personally speaking, I would prefer not to engage in combat with Lady Milim’s forces.”

“No, I suppose not. I can understand wanting to try it, but there is no quarrel between us. I would simply want to compare our powers.”

“Yes… I can see that.”

The two gave each other knowing grins.

“Whoooa!” Hermes interjected. “Not good, Father!”

“Yes, Sir Benimaru! If you hurt one of the Dragon Faithful, there’s no telling what kind of calamity that would bring upon us!”

“You heard her, Father Middray! Sir Rimuru is Lady Milim’s friend. It would all end in tragedy, I am sure of it!”

Sufia silently resented Hermes and Gabil for stepping in.

“Fair enough,” Benimaru said. “Besides, if I don’t come at him trying to kill him, I expect it’ll result in nothing but defeat for me—and I don’t like engaging in losing battles.”

“Wah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Quite so. And I’m not sure even I could withstand a blow like the one that buried Charybdis!”

Middray might have laughed the concept off, but he had a suspicion that he could win the battle before Benimaru had a chance to bust that out. That would result in a life-and-death duel, however, going well beyond the boundaries of a friendly sparring session. A battlefield was the wrong place for this, and it no longer meant anything anyway.

Thus ended the battle in the former kingdom of Orbic, while the unified forces enjoyed a near-total victory. But this wasn’t the only battlefield.

At the stroke of midnight, Shuna, Soei, and Hakuro sprang into action. They quickly discovered Clayman’s headquarters within the wetlands covered by the mysterious mist and began to stealthily make their way there.

Beyond these wetlands were several murky swamps, gas bubbling out from the surface. This was what created the cloud of mist, making things seem eerier than they already were. The moment they waded in, visibility plummeted to nearly nothing.

“Uh-oh. This mist is blocking our Magic Sense.”

“It is,” confirmed Soei. “That was why we called off our investigation. With this poor visibility, anyone inside would have to rely on their own five senses to ‘see’ around them. That’s what the enemy must use to keep track of what goes on in here.”

“Mm, I see. So we face a brutal disadvantage.”

“Indeed, Sir Hakuro. You and I can use Covert Agent to hide our presences, but Lady Shuna…”

“I should be fine.”

It was true. Hakuro could use his Haze concealing skill to all but disappear to the external observer, as could Soei. You could be standing right next to them and never realize it. Shuna, despite not having this exact Art, could still perfectly heal herself.

“Hmm… A combination of illusory and mystical magic? It doesn’t work like Haze, but it has the same effect. Well done, Lady Shuna.”

Hakuro was right—this approach was Shuna’s original creation. While she wasn’t quite as gifted at it as Rimuru, her Creator unique skill allowed her to conjure up her own magic spells without a recipe.

“Then we should be fine,” Soei said. “But I want you all to remember that Thought Communication won’t work in this fog. Visibility is low, it is hard to stay in contact, and we all need to proceed carefully and cautiously. Also…”

Even with Soei’s Replications, Thought Communication–based conversation would be impossible. Instead, he provided a length of Sticky Steel Thread around each of their wrists for emergency contacts. Focusing on this thread would allow them to maintain at least a modicum of communication, but if the string broke, that would be the end of the contact. Using it required a great deal of caution.

Shuna and Hakuro nodded and wrapped it around their wrists. They were ready now. “Let’s get going,” Shuna said, and the three ran off.

Then, after several minutes of walking, Shuna stopped.

“…Oh no,” she whispered. “We seem to have fallen into a trap.”

“A trap?”

“I can feel my senses going haywire on me, yes, but I don’t feel any enemies around the— What?!”

Before he could finish speaking, Soei felt multiple presences nearby appear from out of nowhere, virtually surrounding them.

“How on…? Where were so many of these enemies hiding, such that we couldn’t notice them?”

“No, Hakuro! They weren’t hiding. We were lured right to them!”

“Ah… This fog. The cloud’s doing more than confusing our sense of direction. It’s concealing the enemy and inviting us right to the middle of their circle…”

“I see. That explains the odd feeling I had just now.”

“You’re right. The mist is triggering Spatial Interference to lure intruders from any direction to a specific place—”

Before Shuna finished explaining this, one of the presences appeared. Soei and Hakuro steeled themselves toward it, keeping a watchful eye out for the still-unseen monsters in the mist, as Shuna closed her mouth and focused on it—a skeleton dressed in a vestment of pure white.

“Such massive magical force,” she whispered, beads of sweat on her forehead. For a moment, she thought it might have been Clayman himself, although she banished the thought quickly. It was past midnight; the demon lord should be over at the Walpurgis Council. Perhaps it was one of Clayman’s five fingers, then—but the figure before them exuded pure presence, beyond that of the Lycanthropeers and approaching demon lord level. The power of this magic-born was overwhelming; it was a wonder that it was subservient to anyone else.

She recalled what Mjurran told her about Clayman’s most senior leaders—and that one of them was geared strictly toward defending their base.

“…You must be Adalmann, then. The ruler of this land—the wight king with power over countless undead…”

Hakuro had just used Heavengaze to reach the same conclusion. But this figure was more ominous than how Mjurran described it, its force far more massive. The guardian of this wetland was a wight king on the level of a demon lord.

Soei accepted Shuna and Hakuro’s appraisal, finding no reason to doubt it. Then, quietly, he sharpened his bladelike mind. No matter who the enemy is, he will kill him—that was his credo.

But just as Soei was about to move, the wight king spoke.

“Indeed, I am Adalmann. I have been ordered to protect this land by the great demon lord Clayman. Lowly intruders like you may do nothing but humbly submit your lives to me. Do it, and I will kill you without pain.”

This was the command of a kingly figure, not the words of a foe who saw Shuna and her companions as equals. Considering the massive, overwhelming amount of Adalmann’s magic energy, anything else would almost seem improper.

Now, all around the area, a legion of over ten thousand undead were writhing, as if attracted to the seemingly inexhaustible supply of magicules. Cracking, wrenching sounds filled the air as they moved to encircle the trio.

“We are fully surrounded,” Shuna breathlessly reported. “This mist is working alongside a directional barrier to prevent teleportation outside. All our means of communication are blocked. The only way to get out of here is to defeat this Adalmann foe.”

“Then we must strike their leader at once.”

“No disagreement here. A blow from me can even kill the dead.”

Hakuro and Soei had no interest in following Adalmann’s advice. As Shuna explained the situation, they both went on the attack. But Adalmann simply laughed in their faces.

“Heh-heh-heh… You appear not to know your place. I generously provided you mercy, and yet, you remain foolish to the end. You will regret refusing that offer shortly.”

He breezily swung an arm. The next moment, the most surprising thing happened—the white blade of Hakuro, instantly zooming within range of Adalmann, was blocked by the knight who had appeared in front of him.

Hakuro stepped back in shock, failing to believe that this killer blow could be parried. This was a death knight, ranked A-minus in the Guild system, but from that clash, Hakuro could sense something was off. It was a powerful monster, yes, but no garden-variety death knight could ever block a slash from him.

“You are no normal adversary. Very well. Let me give you my full attention.”

He had an accurate bead on this death knight and the threat it carried for him. Its strength relied not on physical toughness but on the built-up level of its skills—which meant Heavengaze would tell him nothing about it. So he used his own physical might to confront it.

“……”

The death knight was silent; the corpse serving as the shell of its body was incapable of speech. But there was a blistering blue flame in its sunken eyes. The light of consciousness was in there, the pride of a former human being, and it told Hakuro that his challenge was accepted.

Even after abandoning life, this death knight was a proud, noble warrior. The difference in magical energy between the two was negligible, as was their physical muscle. It marked the beginning of a clash between built-up skills, one that quickly made sparks fly.

Before Soei, meanwhile, was Adalmann himself, an enormous shadow from out of nowhere blocking all attempts to attack him.

“Deh!” Soei glared at the towering shade. “No… A dragon zombie?”

“No, Soei!” Shuna could see it more fully, through the muck. “Nothing that weak! Its magicules outnumber yours; it stands at the peak of the undead—it’s a death dragon!”

Soei’s face tensed upon hearing this. He could manage this solo, but fighting this foe while guarding Shuna was a different story. The usually reliable Hakuro was too busy with the death knight. He had to dispatch this death dragon as soon as possible, or else Shuna would be overrun by the thousands of undead lumbering their way in from all sides. Now, Soei realized, was no time to hold back.

“Then, die! Mystic Thread Strike!”

Without delay, Soei dealt out the most powerful attack he could, a killer move that fricasseed the enemy with thousands of branching strings of Sticky Steel Thread, each granted the Insta-Kill effect from his Shadow Striker unique skill. They created a virtual garden of beautiful, bloody blooms, like a kaleidoscope. Even a half-spiritual life-form like an undead would be snuffed out by this spiritual body-slicing move—or so it should have.

“No! It’s regenerating?!”

Soei could feel himself begin to sweat. The sixty-foot-long beast’s body was ripped apart, seemingly ending the battle. But then, as if nothing was amiss, the death dragon’s body reassembled itself. It went so fast, even faster than Ultraspeed Regeneration, that it seemed like nothing less than immortality.

“Then let me destroy you, soul and all…”

“Soei,” Shuna shouted out as he steeled himself, “calm down! You know how to analyze your foe’s strengths. You should know that you can’t beat a death dragon!”

“But…”

“That dragon’s soul is within the magic-born Adalmann,” she quietly declared. “Don’t worry about me; just work on keeping that dragon where it is. I’ll defeat Adalmann!”

“That’s too dangerous!”

“No, Soei. Listen to me. I’m angry.”

A cold smile stretched across Shuna’s face to dispel Soei’s worries. They shined a piercing light, exhibiting her raging emotions. The sight made Soei clam up, unable to speak.

As the former princess of the ogre tribe, Shuna’s words had the power to make others do her bidding—and now, that power was stronger than even the otherworlder Kirara Mizutani’s Bewilder unique skill. Besides, Shuna wasn’t some precious cargo that required constant protection. Soei knew that. So there was only one answer.

“Yes, Lady Shuna. Best of luck.”

She contentedly smiled. “You too, Soei. That dragon’s all yours.”

Soei nodded back, giving Shuna his full trust, then threw himself back into his own fight.

Shuna, left alone, didn’t waver at all as she confronted Adalmann. The wight king rewarded this by glaring at her.

“Hoh? And what do you intend to do, little girl? What could you do without anyone to defend you? How are you going to engage ten thousand foes at once?”

There was an odd sort of joy in Adalmann’s voice. He was enjoying this, in fact. The demon lord Clayman’s orders were absolute, but Adalmann was still afforded his own sense of free will, although his activities were limited in every other way. The only thing he was allowed full rein to do was wipe out intruders.

Clayman’s other minions derided him for having so much power but so little brains to back that up—and it was only because he was not allowed to leave this land or do anything on his own volition. And it was perhaps the way that he wasn’t even allowed to provide excuses to them that made people fail to realize it.

Adalmann was less a magic-born and more a weapon, a base-defense mechanism bound to this land. His soul remained unbound, but his behavior was now automatic, following the orders input into him. He spoke of his loyalty to Clayman, but that was just an act. He had been preset to pay his formal respects to the owner of this device.

In his heart of hearts, Adalmann wanted to be released from these bonds. That was why he enjoyed talking with Shuna. The defense mechanisms worked automatically; he had no authority to alter them in any way. The chats he had with intruders were his only hobby to speak of, the only thing no one else could interfere with. The demon lord Kazalim, creator of this structure, offered him that much mercy. Or maybe not. But Adalmann wanted to think so. That gesture, after all, was what had allowed him to live all this time, a thousand years or so, without succumbing to insanity.

Even if it was just a measure to keep this system running longer, I have to thank him for that, at least.

And he meant it. That was why he never spared any effort to hammer down intruders, regardless of what he thought about it. But at least he prayed, as he imagined an army of ten thousand undead preying upon Shuna, that it could be done painlessly.

But then her voice rang out sharply once more.

“No need to worry about me. Alignment Field!!”

At that instant, the area within a three-hundred-foot radius of Shuna became holy ground, where nothing of evil alignment could tread. It was another original product of Shuna’s mind, using her experience to Analyze the Anti-Magic Area and Holy Field, then Fuse them together. This barrier obstructed all magicules, but it could also be set to block fire, wind, or any one of the other four major elements, making it a shockingly formidable defensive spell.

“Now we won’t be distracted. If I defeat you, that will destroy the defense system with you at its core, right?”

“…Hmm. Impressive. And you’ve seen through my secret as well. What is your name, girl?”

Shuna was absolutely right. If Adalmann died, the whole base-defense system would crumble. It was structured to bind Adalmann’s soul down, using it to circulate the large amounts of magicules it required. That would no doubt free the death dragon serving him—as well as the death knight, Alberto, who was once Adalmann’s friend and confidant. Shuna had seen all that at a glance, and Adalmann offered her his honest respect for that. Respect and the ever-so-slight hope that she might be able to release him from this pain.

“My name is Shuna.”

“Shuna… Lady Shuna. Then let us settle this for good. If you can defeat me, I will follow your wishes.”

“My, thank you for the polite request. However, all I seek is the destruction of the demon lord Clayman. If you stay out of my way, I could leave you alone to live on this land, perhaps?”

“Heh-heh-heh. I’m not sure that’s possible, I’m afraid.”

“No? I thought you might be capable of conquering the ties that bind you, but perhaps I was wrong. Oh, well. In that case,” she said without a moment’s hesitation, “I will kill you as I intended to.”

If I could conquer them, thought Adalmann, I would have done it eons ago. Kazalim is a man to be feared, a foe no one can hold a candle to. The nickname Curse Lord is not just bravado. And she makes it all sound so easy…

“Then the time for talk is over,” he declared, still having no ill will toward her. “Try to resist me with everything you’ve got!”

………

……

…

Adalmann was born a prince in one of the small nations under the jurisdiction of the Holy Empire of Lubelius. These lands were all too weak to have their own standing militaries, instead relying on the Temple Knights sent from the Church’s central headquarters. In exchange, they were required to adopt Luminism as the state religion and provide money and qualified personnel for their knight corps.

The Western Holy Church of the time didn’t enjoy the influence they wielded now; this was before the advent of their Crusader groups. Practitioners who showed talent could be granted the name of “acolyte,” a nonhereditary title, but that was it. In the midst of that, Adalmann was an exceptional performer—and with his elder brother taking over the country and quickly giving birth to an heir, he was free to devote himself deeply to spreading the faith, joining the Church’s missionary corps and quickly making a name for himself.

He was devout to the faith, constantly fascinated by the divine works of Luminus. Never once did he doubt the existence of this lone, true, powerful goddess. That devotion eventually led him to learn the “divine miracles” of the Church’s archbishop class, making him the greatest master of holy magic in his era.

In time, he advanced to the rank of cardinal, the loftiest in the Western Holy Church. In the Lubelius noble hierarchy, he was no one particularly special. But he redoubled his efforts, extending his interests to magic beyond the holy spells he was familiar with. He would hold long discussions about magic with Gadora, one of his best friends at the time, as he incessantly polished his skills. The effort eventually paid off—he became an Enlightened, transcending the bounds of humanity itself.

An Enlightened was a person who retained their human form but on the inside was a demi-spiritual being, similar to a higher-level elemental. Their powers were leaps and bounds above those of a regular human, and they were often seen as defenders of the human cause. This power quickly put Adalmann in a position of immense central authority.

Time passed. Adalmann’s intensive study continued. And eventually, he took the next step forward, to the highest peak of mankind—a Sage. As he did, he was greeted with wondrous news: He would be called to the Inner Cloister, at the top of the Church’s holy mountain.

The offer filled him with joy.

Finally, an audience with Luminus herself!

He always believed that Luminus was real, an unwavering belief that served as the source for all his faith. So he promptly set off for the holy mount, not believing for a moment that it would lead to tragedy. That belief, sadly, would ultimately betray him.

………

……

…

The intense magical battle continued.

“Melt all and wear it away—Acid Shell!”

The aspectual spell Adalmann had just cast conjured balls of liquid in the air, each capable of melting flesh to the bone. They rained down upon Shuna.

She didn’t miss a beat.

“Flame Wall.”

The barrier of fire deflected and vaporized all the magic-infused droplets. Between accelerating her mind to a thousand times normal, possessing superior Analyze and Assess skills, and changing the rules with Cast Cancel and Control Laws, Shuna’s unique skill Parser was made for a clash of magic like this. From the moment Adalmann began constructing a spell, she had a way to deal with it.

“Then how about this? Malicious dead, accept this sacrifice—Curse Bind!!”

This was necromancy, an offshoot of elemental magic that took advantage of the negative energies from ghouls and the undead. Curse Bind was a particularly nasty one, summoning zombies that latched on to anything living—human or magic-born—and drained away their life energy.

Even that wasn’t enough.

“Holy Bell.”

Shuna’s refreshingly clear voice reached Adalmann’s ears, and right after came the tolling of bells he was once well used to hearing. That was all it took to send the grudgeful zombies to the afterlife.

“…It can’t be! Why? Why is a monster wielding elemental magic?!”

Adalmann’s eyes shot open at the divine miracle playing out before him. The magic was deployed all too beautifully, reminding him of his youthful days spent studying.

This was holy magic in the air, something a monster girl should never be able to weave. The unbelievable sight made him scream without thinking.

Shuna smiled as she decided to answer Adalmann’s question, even though she had no obligation to. “Do you find it strange? Perhaps you need a little more imagination. Holy magic is not the exclusive domain of humans; it will work with anyone who believes in the power of miracles, based on the strength of their belief.”

Conventional wisdom in this world stated that holy magic worked by forging a pact with an elemental spirit. This was both right and wrong. The fact that magic-born could cast healing spells indicated that “holy” magic was possible for them without any pact with a holy being. Most humans, and even monsters, didn’t understand that.

The sole condition for acquiring holy magic was having faith—believing in miracles, to put it another way. Good, or evil, didn’t factor into it; the strength of one’s emotions was directly converted into power. That was how this family of magic worked. (This was also the reason why the Dragon Faithful that worshipped Milim could access holy magic.)

Hearing this terse explanation was staggering to Adalmann. I—I was wrong the whole time? I was betrayed. I lost my faith in the goddess Luminus. I thought I would never be able to wield holy magic again…

Luminus betrayed Adalmann—or to be precise, he had been trapped by the supreme leaders of Luminism. He still didn’t know why. Perhaps they feared his rise in power; perhaps it was another reason. All he knew was that Luminus, his goddess, offered him no helping hand.

It’s almost comical, in a way. The Seven Days Clergy tricked me into setting off to quell a large army of undead attacking our people… I never could’ve guessed it was a trap. And thanks to that Gadora conducting magical experiments on me, I’ve been revived as this twisted, reviled figure…

Unaware that he was being led to his grave, he waltzed right into the far edge of the Great Forest of Jura, where he still dwelled today. He was awaited by a legion of undead, led by a dragon zombie. He was accompanied by Alberto, acolyte and his closest friend, along with four knights and an expeditionary force that loved him, and they fought with all their might. It wasn’t enough.

Adalmann fell to the ground—and died once. But then Reincarnation, a Mysterious Art placed upon him by his other friend Gadora, activated and resurrected his soul—a soul that had already been poisoned by the miasma across the land, the malice of the dead around him. He was reborn not as a man but as a wight, transformed into a skeleton. The metamorphosis had caught the attention of the demon lord Kazalim, and now here he was today.

“Thus, if you are incapable of handling holy magic, then I am positive you are incapable of beating me.”

Shuna’s words hit home like a knockout punch, reminding Adalmann that he was still in battle. “Wh-why?” he instinctively asked. “Why did you think I was a master of holy magic?”

“Because of how you look,” came the cold reply. “That white vestment, which only high-level bishops and above are permitted to wear. You were worthy of such fine robes, and yet, you whine and carry on about being unable to conquer such a basic bind like this. I hardly needed to examine you closely to see that you wore that robe simply out of blind attachment to your former holy magic.”

She had him pegged the entire time. He could hear it in her voice.

“Nnnhh… I have let you spout far too much nonsense!!”

Adalmann flew into a rage—not at Shuna but at himself. Seeing his true heart now, something he couldn’t notice until it was pointed out to him, made him both exasperated and enraged at his own spinelessness. But he could also feel an inexplicably refreshing comfort in his heart, like the fog of a thousand years had finally lifted from him. He let his raging emotions drive him to cast another spell.

“I offer this prayer to my god. I seek your divine powers. May my request reach your ears safely—”

Yes. I simply lacked the resolve. Having my beloved friends turn into undead, I couldn’t let myself die and leave them behind… I wasn’t good enough. Necromancy and aspectual magic cannot cleanse the undead. Who could say how many times I wished I could tap into holy magic…

Those “friends” were one reason why Adalmann was bound to this area. He couldn’t abandon the fine men and women who died here but lived on as accursed zombies. And that intent was the bond that tied them to this land. Finally, just now, Adalmann realized the mistake he had made.

So he connected together a complex seal with the bones that were his hands and boldly declared his prayer to the lands above. It was an incantation, as shown by the complicated geometrical shapes that appeared in the air before him.

This girl, Shuna… I have no grudge against her. If anything, I owe her a great debt for opening my eyes. But suicide is forbidden to me. I apologize, but I will need to have you join me—

That apology came from the heart.

The checks placed upon him by Kazalim ranged far and wide, holding Adalmann down—but if he was caught up in the fallout from an attack on the enemy, that was hardly his fault. He planned to destroy himself, taking Shuna along him, for only then could he free the people who unwittingly joined him.

A layered circle of magic spread out, covering Shuna and Adalmann.

“—and render all to dust! Disintegration!!”

“I was waiting for that! Overdrive!!”

Just before Adalmann could complete his spell, Shuna used Parser for a Control Laws rewrite. The results wrested control of the local spiritual elements away from Adalmann, driving them haywire.

“Wh-what…? You have less than a tenth of my magical energy! How could you possibly overwrite my magic?!”

Magicules and spiritual particles were controlled by magical force. Having his magic overwritten could only mean that Adalmann’s force was overpowered by Shuna’s. To him, Shuna looked hopelessly outclassed, but now, at long last, Adalmann realized he was wrong on that score as well.

“Impressive. Let me reward you by releasing you from this land!”

The wight was swallowed up by a flood of light, unable to hear Shuna’s words to the end. She had used magic on him, realizing that someone like Adalmann—at least her equal in terms of holy magic—could collect the energy required to purify the local area. She wasn’t expecting him to break out the most powerful of all holy spells, but luckily for her, she knew how that one worked. That was what made it so easy to overwrite.

The light now permeated the land, enveloping not just Adalmann but all the other undead—cleansing them.

Hakuro and Soei ran up to Shuna.

“I tell you, I wanted to end this sooner, but that death knight was far more capable than I estimated. You saved my life there, Lady Shuna.”

With the land fully cleansed, the death knight reverted all the way down to a lowly skeletal fighter and fell to the ground. Following Adalmann’s will, it had lost any further desire to fight. The sight was enough to make Hakuro realize the battle was over. He regretted losing such a challenging opponent, but protecting Shuna took priority over everything else, and she required his attention right now.

“No, Hakuro, you were a great help to me. You too, Soei, distracting that death dragon’s attention and buying me so much time. If it had fallen out of our control, I doubt we could have won.”

“It shames me that I could not defeat it.”

As Soei implied, the death dragon was a powerful foe, capable of healing light damage instantly and boasting an aura that infected the mind of anyone who touched it. It took someone like him, capable of controlling multiple Replications at once, to emerge from that unscathed. If anything, he deserved praise for holding out so long against a foe that shut down his decisive weapon.

The death dragon, too, vanished upon Adalmann’s defeat, unable to maintain its existence after the magicule supply that powered it was shut off. Soei didn’t much like how it ended, but anything you can walk away from is a victory.

A victory, yes, but one with regrets. The three looked at one another and sighed.

“Still,” muttered Shuna, “if Adalmann had engaged me seriously from the beginning, none of us would be alive, would we? I think I let my anger drive me to be a little too reckless.”

Adalmann never let up on her at all during the fight, but he also never attempted anything underhanded to snare her. If he really intended to kill them all, he could’ve done so in many other ways. Shuna could see that, and it filled her with regret.

“Quite true,” Hakuro commented. “Perhaps our new strengths have made us grow a tad conceited.”

“Certainly. It is just as Sir Rimuru fretted about. There is no telling what may happen in battle. I should have gathered more intelligence.”

In the end, however, a win was a win. Clayman’s domain had lost its main line of defense. But that didn’t end things. The trio had a job to do—seize Clayman’s castle and fully neutralize the threat inside.

Noncombatants comprised the majority of the people remaining in the castle, none of whom signed any oath of loyalty to Clayman. The more quick-witted among them, or those who took the employment simply for money’s sake, surrendered without a hint of resistance. There were also many who were restrained in the castle by mental or spiritual bonds, but a combination of persuasion and magical de-cursing on Shuna’s part allowed them to capture the entire castle in short order.

With the occupants neutralized, it was time to start searching. They had already confirmed that the demon lord Carillon wasn’t being held here, but they wanted to seek out anything they might be able to use against Clayman.

As they did, a figure approached them.

“…Please, one moment.”

“Mm? You’re still alive? Did you need me to finish you off?”

“Wait, Hakuro. He has no will to fight left.”

It was Adalmann, and Shuna had to calmly keep Hakuro from drawing his sword. The wight fell to his knees, accompanied by a single skeletal fighter.

“Please, allow me to call you Lady Shuna. Thanks to your magic, all of us have been released from the bonds that tied us here. Perhaps it was fate that kept us alive without being cleansed. I have a request that I hope you will let me propose.”

“…What is that?” a quizzical Shuna asked, fearing this would be yet more trouble for them.

“Thank you for hearing me out. I was hoping I would be able to meet the figure that you have devoted your faith to, Lady Shuna. When I lost my faith, I also lost the chance to ever reach the heights of my power ever again. My faith in my goddess Luminus is dead—and I need to find a new god for myself.”

“““……””” The three each gave Adalmann incredulous looks.

“I… Well, we have a great respect for Sir Rimuru, yes, but we don’t worship him,” Shuna stammered in reply.

“Sir Rimuru, you say?” Adalmann was unfazed, still eager to sell himself. “Truly a wonderful name, one fully worthy of describing the glories of my new god. We may merely be a pair of fragile undead, but I believe we may be able to offer you assistance. Lady Shuna, would it be possible to arrange an audience with this Sir Rimuru?”

Shuna wanted to remind Adalmann of the difference between blindly, unconditionally worshipping someone and treating them with respect while dealing with your problems by yourself. But she didn’t. It seemed like too much to get into. Instead, she conjured up a mental image of Rimuru, the boingy slime she knew.

Well, why not? Once he sees Sir Rimuru in the flesh, that might be enough to make him give up.

Adalmann seemed to be the type who got the wrong impression of people easily. It would take time to persuade him to think otherwise, so Shuna figured it’d be expeditious for everyone involved if she just nodded and said yes.

Once the dust settled, Shuna was in command of Adalmann and the several thousand undead that “survived” the battle (or whatever it was that undead did). Clayman’s castle was now fully conquered.

Siti Dara

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.