by Fuse
“Whether Lord Carillon is there to lead it or not, our armies are unhurt and in full fighting shape. We’ll never let Clayman’s minions seize our land!”
It goes without saying that the Lycanthropeers had the most visceral reaction to it all. Nobody likes their master being called a backstabber, I suppose. Plus, from what Ramiris said, apparently Clayman was gunning for his whole territory.
Man, we really got a late start, didn’t we? I had no idea he’d be moving this fast. Better dispatch him quick—he can’t be up to anything good.
“Calm down a sec, Ramiris. Yes, it’s true I declared myself demon lord, but I didn’t kill Mjurran.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that Clayman’s telling you a pack of lies. I expected him to come out against me with that accusation.”
Plus…
“Wh-what?! You got any evidence to show for that?”
…either way…
“…Um, demon lord Ramiris? Pardon me for speaking me out of turn. I am Mjurran, the magic-born servant of Clayman who was allegedly killed…”
…I’m gonna crush Clayman.
The moment I made him think Mjurran was dead, I knew he was going to react sooner or later. I didn’t take the bait—Clayman was just hooked by my lure. The rest of the demon lords weren’t involved.
The sight of Mjurran threw Ramiris for a loop.
“Huh? Wha?! Wait, so… Now I get it! The demon lord Clayman’s the real culprit now, isn’t he?! I knew it!”
Good thing she recovered so fast. Too bad that was incredibly obvious to anyone else in the room. I felt bad for her, so I decided to follow up on something else I’d wondered about.
“Yeah, I agree with you there, but I wanted to ask you something.”
“Mm? What? Just ask Detective Ramiris here, and she’ll crack the case!”
Uh-oh. I wound up just egging her on, didn’t I? “Detective?” Seriously? She must’ve been peeking at whatever Veldora was reading, huh? I opted not to pursue that for now.
“How do you think the other demon lords will react to this?”
I wasn’t expecting much, but figured I had to ask. She had been a demon lord for ages, so I couldn’t deny the possibility that she had something to go on. The room went quiet, awaiting her response. It was a question of deep interest to everyone else, too. Too bad Ramiris was so indifferent to that.
“Huh? Well, I dunno. It was just, like, ‘Here’s what we’ll talk about during the party, so join in,’ okay?”
So nonchalant with it. I shouldn’t have expected anything else. Just a kid. I should be glad she came over to tell me at all.
Next question.
“Okay, so when is this Walpurgis, Ramiris? Do you know the exact date and time?”
I’d want to know that before we formulate our anti-Clayman strategy.
“Oh, didn’t I mention it? Um, it’s gonna be three days from now, on the night of the new moon.”
Three days? That’s sooner than I thought. Gonna be kind of hard to finish him off in just three days.
So…is this showdown gonna have to wait until after Walpurgis?
Another issue to bring up with the gang, I guess.
That was about all I wanted to ask Ramiris. That was all she was here for, it turned out, and it wasn’t like I’d be able to glean anything else useful from her.
Then a sudden thought came to mind.
“So why’d you come all the way here to tell me?”
“Mm? Well, really, it’s like, if you get killed, what’s gonna happen to my Beretta here? So I decided to take your side on this, and that’s why I’m here. That kinda thing. And I’m gonna build a labyrinth entrance here, but is that okay?”
“No, it’s not okay! Where’d that come from?! What kind of entrance anyway?!”
I appreciated her bringing the news, but this came right out of nowhere.
“Huhhh?! What’s the big deal? Don’t sweat the small stuff!”
She never was one for listening. No, she was much more for talking—and arguing her point until she got it. As far as she was concerned, this conversation was already over. She’s one of the most free ’n’ wild fairies I’ve ever met.
“I am sweating the small stuff, and you should, too! And don’t go around thinking that Beretta is all yours, either!”
I held my ground, refusing to let her get her way. Any “entrance to the labyrinth” built around here could never possibly bode well for us. And Beretta’s fate wasn’t just in my hands—it had a lot to do with the golem, as well. It wasn’t something she had any right to dictate. A simple question on my part led to what I could only call an outrageous proposal.
We argued vehemently about it for a while, to no effect, before the crowd finally broke up. I was too busy to deal with her any longer, and Ramiris, her business apparently done, went back to her manga.
As they left, I promised all the attendees that I’d inform them of whatever new information I found. They all agreed to this before they went their separate ways.
Fuze planned to stay the night at the inn before heading home. “I hope you’re prepared for what lies ahead,” he warned. “It’s your country being targeted this time. A demon lord is a very dangerous thing. I think I know how strong you are, Sir Rimuru, but…”
I understood what he meant. At worst, I could wind up making enemies out of several demon lords at once. Out of the ten of ’em, who could I count on as nonhostile? Carillon was AWOL. Ramiris promised to back me up, so there’s one. Milim… Milim’s my biggest worry. I’m pretty sure she’s just being tricked, but I’d still need to prepare myself for the worst.
So if I managed to completely screw up everything, I could have eight demon lords wanting me dead. Of course, if it looked like I was gonna lose Milim before that, it was probably best to run for the hills immediately at that point.
“Oh, I’ll figure something out,” I reassured Fuze.
Erald and Elen also whined at me about wanting some time to talk to each other. I agreed to have them stay for several nights before leaving—not at the inn but at our luxury ryokan-style hotel. All of Tempest was proud of that place, and if we could earn the duke’s praise for it, he was welcome anytime.
It was funny, though, seeing how different Erald the statesman was from Erald the person. He was so preoccupied with his daughter that I was worried she’d run off on him—I just had to pray he wouldn’t do anything to make her even angrier.
Gazel also opted to stay a few extra days, so I lodged him in the ryokan as well. As I guessed from seeing them speak, they had known each other for ages, even fighting in battles together. Erald must’ve really been a hell of a wizard. And now, funnily enough, they were using Tempest as a new channel to build geopolitical ties with. It’s always better to get along, of course.
We really enjoyed a celebrity lineup at this summit, though, didn’t we? Leaders who’d hold major sway over human nations in the future. And—if you think about it—I was standing on equal footing with them. Having that selfish fairy crash it at the very end made for a less-than-snappy ending, but I think it’s safe to say I gained a lot from it all.
We would’ve liked to rest up as well, but that wasn’t happening. I didn’t want demon lords breathing down my neck, and we needed some countermeasures.
After a meal, we all gathered again in the meeting hall. The Three Lycanthropeers and Mjurran were our only guests this time. Yohm and Gruecith were already preparing to depart—Gruecith really wanted a seat in the conference but relented after Phobio screamed at him. They had an important job to do, so I really wanted them to focus their full attention on that. I was hoping Mjurran would join in the preparations as well, but she was the one with concrete intelligence on Clayman, so I had to ask her to join.
And for some reason, Diablo was joining us. “Heh-heh-heh-heh… I hardly have any need to prepare,” he declared, and really, I had to assume he was right. There wasn’t any reason to kick him out, so I gave him permis
sion.
The moment I entered the hall:
“Oh! You! You! What’re you doing? What’s the meaning of this?!”
Ramiris accosted me yet again.
“What do you mean?” I asked. Then she began yelling at me, her face turning red.
Here was the basic story: During this break period, she was called into the dining hall. I had totally forgotten about this, but Ramiris had a long history with Treyni and the other dryads, who served her back when she was still Spirit Queen. Treyni recognized her at once, of course, and it wasn’t long before they were all giving her the royal treatment, answering her every beck and call.
“That’s pretty great, huh?”
“Yes! Yes, it is great! Really great! So I’ve decided to live here, too, Rimuru!”
Guess Ramiris really likes this town. And as a lonely demon lord with no minions to serve her, I’m sure the dryad kindness lifted her spirits sky-high. Between that and being guided around town, soaking up all the sights, she decided to take the plunge.
“I told you to stop making all these unilateral decisions! Plus, remember, Treyni and the dryads are kind of busy managing things in the forest. They don’t live with you anymore! They can’t spend all day dealing with you here.”
I gave the three doting dryad sisters waiting behind her some serious side-eye as I lectured Ramiris. She wasn’t interested in listening.
“Oh, don’t be so stingy! What’s the big deal? If anything happens, I’ll help you out of it! Ol’ Ramiris is the strongest gal you’ll ever find!”
With your help, I’m headed straight for the— No. Never mind. If I said that out loud, it’d make her cry.
“Sir Rimuru,” Treyni said, “we promise to take care of Lady Ramiris. I do hope you will be forward-thinking in your decision.”
“““Do it for us, please!””” her sisters said in chorus. I dunno. She’s gonna be such a troublemaker. We’ll be dealing with even more humans here before long, and Ramiris flitting around will be hard to ignore.
Hmm… Another issue for the back burner, then.
“All right. I’ll think about it.”
“You will?! Oh, Rimuru, I knew you’d see things my way!”
Let’s give some thought later to how Ramiris’s presence would impact the town. I had other issues to take care of before that.
With Ramiris suitably placated, it was time to start the conference.
“Right. I know it’s tough, having all these discussions at once, but bear with me. We have two items on the agenda here: fighting Clayman and the Walpurgis Council. Ramiris here has just informed me that I am being targeted. First, I’d like you all to hear Soei’s report and discuss our strategy. Soei, give us your briefing on Clayman’s forces.”
“Sir!”
He began right after my introduction.
While we were holding our summits, Clayman’s army had been busy. They had stopped in Milim’s domain to rest and organize their troops.
“They do not appear to be led by Clayman himself,” Soei stated. “Their leader is accompanied by a slew of magic-born and boasts a great deal more magicule energy than the rest of them, but even then, his force is along the lines of the Three Lycanthropeers. If that is the demon lord Clayman, he is far too feeble a threat.”
Man, he’s brimming with confidence, too, huh?
“In terms of Lycanthropeer-level strength, I can think of three magic-born serving Clayman who would fit that description…”
That many, huh? Yep. He’s sure a demon lord, I gotta admit. These three were three of Clayman’s five fingers, his most favored of assistants: Yamza, the middle finger; Adalmann, the pointer finger; and Nine-Head, the thumb. Mjurran, by the way, was the ring finger. The final little finger was named Pironé but was mostly involved in intelligence gathering and rarely appeared in public.
I had been wondering about the Moderate Jesters group and their relation to Clayman, but Mjurran apparently knew nothing about them. “Clayman was never one to trust in his underlings,” she explained, “so it wouldn’t be strange at all for him to put observers in place to keep tabs on us during missions.”
You could call them the audience for his puppet shows, I suppose. They might’ve been active without any of Clayman’s forces knowing, like in the orc lord battle. Better make sure I don’t forget that.
“So who’s their commander, Mjurran?”
The leader Soei had spotted was a thin, frail-looking magic-born. His Thought Communication broadcast a perfect image of him to all of us.
“This is Yamza. Yamza, the Frozen Swordmage. He is a cruel, unfair, merciless lowlife but a regrettably talented one. He willingly swore his loyalty to Clayman, and we never did get on well after that.”
So the army was led by Yamza, a magic-born and (according to Mjurran) the strongest of the five fingers. Clayman had granted him an ornate, expensive magic sword with the power to freeze its targets, earning him the nickname. In other words, there was no guessing what his latent skills were without that weapon.
Yamza was commanding an army of some thirty thousand magic-born, all with varying levels of power. By Soei’s estimation, around four-fifths were a solid B rank, the rest mostly an A-minus. There were a few solid A’s at the top, but we’re still talking Gelmud level at best. That made them stronger and dicier than the Farmus army I annihilated but still nothing to really break a sweat over.
“A little too weak, aren’t they?”
Right now, the number of refugees we had taken in from the Beast Kingdom of Eurazania had surpassed twenty thousand. Around half, ten thousand, were in fighting shape, each averaging a B rank—which went up to A-minus after their beast transformation. It was a surprisingly powerful force. Even Farmus’s most elite knight corps were lucky to average a B, and that was with assorted magical enhancements placed on them, so it said a lot about how strong Eurazania’s fighters were.
Humans and beastmen were just different, down to the foundation. We had a big force of them, but Carillon’s domain still had more on reserves. These were beastmen that the army recruited from nearby villages during the capital evacuation, only to have them spread out across the countryside. The most powerful officers of the Beast Master’s Warrior Alliance had brought them back together, regrouped them, and sent them off to hide out at strategic points. Add their numbers up, and they, conservatively, amounted to over ten thousand themselves.
Thus, we had a total of twenty thousand A-minus fighters on hand. Carillon really was a demon lord. What a force he’d had on him.
“It is strange, yes,” Alvis said. “Yamza is undoubtedly a powerful magic-born, but we Three Lycanthropeers would never lose to him. And while his force outnumbers ours, we hold an overwhelming advantage in training and fighting ability.”
“Yeah,” agreed Phobio, “if you want leadership, we’ve got loads of it!”
“Do they think that Lord Carillon died, and we’ll just fall over like trees to them?” Sufia sniffed. “No, Clayman can’t be that much of a fool…”
All seemed to believe that Clayman’s force wasn’t much of a threat.
Benimaru wasn’t as sure. “One moment, though… Could Clayman be aiming at something besides this town?”
Ah yes. Maybe we had the wrong idea. Everyone was always trying to hit this town first, so Ramiris sort of assumed Clayman was after me once more and flew on over. And here I was hoping we’d get to strike them from both sides once the army left Eurazania. The best-laid plans and all that.
“So are they marching for the Beast Kingdom?! There are nothing but refugees left there, plus over ten thousand fighters. They may be better in combat, but Clayman’s numbers could overwhelm them!”
Right. Soei reported that they were camped in Milim’s domain for now, but they had already reorganized and were ready to head into Eurazania territory tomorrow or the next day. I didn’t think they’d attempt a night march, but we’d need to factor that possibility into the equation, too.
“I wonder i
f they are aware at all that we are on the lookout for Clayman,” Geld gravely stated. I wasn’t so optimistic about that. Better to assume the worst; then we can take action when it happens.
“But even if they are marching for this town,” observed Mjurran, “Clayman would never ignore danger from the rear. He would snuff out the source of that first before proceeding.”
Yeah. So would I, actually. But…“snuff it out”?!
“Wait, so you mean…Clayman’s intending to kill off all the fighters in the Beast Kingdom?!”
And who can say if it was just the fighters…
Understood. I have predicted the actions of the demon lord Clayman. There is a 100 percent likelihood that he seeks to awaken himself to become a “true” demon lord. I do not believe this town factors into his plans. However, to achieve this, he is likely taking the crude and uncertain tactic of hunting down all remaining life in the Beast Kingdom of Eurazania.
Ah. So genocide, then. I’m a total hypocrite for saying this, but I can’t say I’m a fan of his any-means-necessary approach.
Clayman never left any stone unturned. I was sure he’d been observing the highway leading out from this town. The moment we sent out reinforcements, he would know. And even before that—
“Clayman is a master of intelligence gathering. I imagine he’s aware that we Lycanthropeers and the main Carillon force have evacuated here. Even if we marched for home right now, it would take two days, at least…”
We’ve totally been given the slip. Just as Alvis said, Clayman had read through it all. An army composed of what’re normally B ranks wouldn’t make it in time, even if they never stopped to rest. I was intending to invest all my troops in the fight as well, but by the time we reached the battle, the Beast Kingdom would be massacred already, I’m sure…
But would that genocide be enough to make Clayman awaken?
Understood. Despite the lack of efficiency, he would be able to obtain a vast number of souls. Clayman’s chances of awakening are…78 percent. This probability would rise if he was able to obtain more souls shortly afterward.