50 49th Move | 11/11 11:11

AN: I did a mistake last chapter by calling Clayman's forces 'kijins' when they should be 'majins', it's fixed by now

Yes, they are inspired by the War of the World.

Concerning the Plasma Impactors, just imagine the flamethrower from the Pyro from Team Fortress 2 except for way fewer 'holes' and looks more high-tech, and it shoots out different forms of plasma instead of fire.

The in-universe reason why these plasma impactors are so large is that it's the most cost-effective way as compared to efficiency, giving an Autonomous Marine anything like a Quantum Variation Field blade would be like giving a normal soldier a diamond-edged knife; the cost outweighs the efficiency.

_____________________________________________

Jistav, miles outside Amrita

Autonomous Marines marched in blocks of thirty or more. The rhythmic sound of the collective march was enough to almost hypnotize anyone watching.

In the skies above, flying Military Drones hovered, acting like a protective blanket as they scoured the sky. These were a larger more robust version of the Autonomous Security Drones used to patrol the streets of Tempest's cities. Being that their purpose was to lay down suppressive fire akin to an attack helicopter, they were armed with numerous lasers, electromagnetic autocannons, and anti-armor micro-missiles.

Additionally, the sound of thumping can be heard as colossal, 30-meter-tall giant three-legged tripods walk through the forest, appearing more akin to a mobile fortress or maybe an artillery platform than anything else.

A tank and an artillery piece rolled into one, the Tripods were meant to be unstoppable weapons of war that serve both a practical and a psychological purpose. Though their huge forms made them easy targets, their size also gave them an intimidating presence, which is only compounded when the tripods looked, unlike anything on the planet. The tripods were even more heavily armed than A.A.A.s. These things were meant to dish out so much firepower as to be able to singlehandedly lay siege against a Demon Lord's domain.

Possessing three powerful tentacle legs that can hold up an arcology, the main core of a Tripod from which the three legs come out has the appearance of an alien void craft, with two large groove-like extensions running down its sides as if they were 'wings'. Above these wings were close to a hundred small built-in laser turrets that can ensure nothing gets within a kilometer of a Tripod. Underneath these wings, however, were the main weapon: Filament Projectors each attached to their own tentacles.

The Tripods were designed to go toe-to-toe against an entire army of A-rank superhumans. Slaughter them all, assist in pacifying the province, and then help in the rebuilding with dozens of smaller tentacles held in the front between two legs meant for manipulating large objects.

This strike force that can easily roll over a whole host of smaller Western states was meant for only a single city.

Such overkill, such methods of shock and awe, ways such as these were the core tenants of the Tempest Doctrine.

Replicating the phenomenon of an actual storm, the Tempest Doctrine was pioneered and spearheaded by Commander Scientia Tempest. When applying to an actual war, the strategic goal of the Tempest Doctrine called for the utter devastation of enemy forces while Tempest's own remain untouched, with civilians caught in the crossfire being relegated to an ultimately secondary concern compared to total victory. Effectively, complete supremacy from start to finish.

The Grand Military of the Republic achieve this goal through what the Commander called 'integrated arms warfare'. Thanks to the advanced technologies provided by Research and Development, the average soldier achieved an unprecedented level of integration with every aspect of the combat arms, enough that without a built-in assistant AI, it may be too much.

The first step of integrated arms warfare is extensive information gathering. Without it, overwhelming firepower is useless. It'll be like punching the air. After that is the actual deployment of overwhelming firepower to soften the target before infantry moves unmolested through the battered battlefield, ultimately cleaning up any remaining pockets of resistance or surviving enemy.

Just like an actual storm; unstoppable, overpowering, where one can only weather it instead of fighting against it.

Sitting inside the bridge of one of these Tripods, Rimuru couldn't help but admire the view from so high up. Though he's had plenty of such views given his job as the President, those were often in the skyline of the metal and glass jungle that is the Metropolis, an actual view of a forest or even uncurated nature is far rarer now that the capital is more developed.

Though, if possible, he'd liked if the surrounding forest were less 'dead'-looking.

Beyond that, one can barely feel the movement of the Tripod.

[Tattletale, Lord of Seeking]. An alternate way to view its title is 'Seeker of Knowledge'.

This was Rimuru's Ultimate Skill, created by combining [Great Sage] and [Predator]. It was formed as a gift from [Contessa] using the leftover energy of two dissolved Ultimate Skills.

According to [Tattletale], [Contessa] took the 'knowledge' aspect of [Great Sage] and the 'devouring' aspect of [Predator] to create this Ultimate Skill. Given its parent Skills, [Tattletale] remained to be able to act as a disembodied advisory voice inside Rimuru's head and the ability to take the Skills, knowledge, and experience of anyone the slime consumes, the latter of which is a step above what Unique Skill [Predator] was able to offer.

Ironically, Rimuru became similar to Hinata, his killer. The more he consumes, the more powerful he becomes.

More than that though, [Tattletale] possesses the ability to infer a supernaturally large amount of information from a small subset of data, a great tool for the day-to-day activity of a President.

But even in spite of such tremendous potential and already existent power... it's the name he's having a hard time wrapping his head around.

'Tattletale'? Seriously? Since it must've been [Contessa] that named the new Ultimate Skill 'Tattletale', did [Contessa] have such a weird sense of humor to reflect its wielder?

Scientia's sense of humor has always been a bit unconventional. For example, with how she names things, it seemed almost as if she's intentionally avoiding gravitas, avoiding naming ships that moved whole worlds things like 'World Shaper' even when it was warranted.

Okay, that's a bit unfair since Endbringers are a thing, but 'Tattletale' sounds so lame!

Rimuru flinched. Before, [Great Sage] was more of a passive observer, but after the upgrade, the privacy inside the slime's mind was pretty much gone.

Still, at least [Tattletale] is someone he trusts a great deal.

'Sorry. But still, why such a lame name though? Like the epithet of 'Seeker of Knowledge' is cool and all, but I think that fits more with an Alchemy-based Ultimate Skill or something.'

'...Yeah, that's fair I guess. True—'

"Mister President," Rimuru's communication with his now-more active Ultimate Skill was cut off when the Minister of Magic called out for his attention. Her unique clothing made her stand out from the Officer uniforms of the others in the room, "I have detected anomalous movements within the forest surrounding us, mostly obscured using stealth-based thaumaturgy."

Tempest is defined by its science. Because it was science that transformed the local's lives, and thus its opposite, magic, was viewed with an air of dismissal.

Thaumaturgy was the term coined by Albedo to try and rebrand magic in a nation of science. The Minister defined thaumaturgy as the study of magic through a more scientific lens, where the law of empiricism and replicability replaces mysticism and traditional dogma. Not that it has really caught on in places outside of the Ministry of Magic.

Looking at the holographic display in front of him, Rimuru saw how the strike group was surrounded on all sides by an unseen enemy clothed in stealth magic.

Whoever could cast such a wide area-of-effect magic strong enough to fool a Tripod's sensors wasn't weak.

"This is Adalman I assume? The undead necromancer of Clayman's Fingers?" Rimuru asked.

"Yes."

Even from the most basic of glances, one can tell that anything dealing with magic, or 'thaumaturgy', are a weak point for the Jura Tempest Military. Some military officers tried to remove this weak point but were firmly rejected by Scientia.

To not cause a public outcry, and to assure a concerned Rimuru given how common magic was, Scientia made the Ministry of Magic: the department of the government dedicated to all things magic.

Unlike Research and Development, the Ministry of Magic isn't one single grand organization, but instead more of a collection, a colony of many different smaller governmental agencies under a single umbrella term, with each of those agencies specializing in one type of magic. From the latest budget report, the Thaumaturgic Defence Agency received the most funding.

Given that it was arguably the most powerful magic user in all of Tempest confirming his suspicion, Rimuru had no reason to doubt it.

"Tell our troops to halt. Cease all movement. Establish a defensive perimeter. Get our military drones higher in the air and spread them out to prepare for close air support."

Within but a second of Rimuru saying those words, all troops received the command and stopped moving before scrambling into a defensive position.

The feet of the Tripods were split into three parts. Using this fact, the Tripods dig into the earth and scooped up large chunks of it, creating a hole that the Marines and Officers can use as cover. The Autonomous Military Drones flew up until they were high above the forest's treeline. Then, those drones spread out deep into the forest and positioned themselves in a grid-like pattern, with a single drone taking over 144 square meters worth of surface area.

A defensive perimeter was established in no less than a minute. Like a veritable castle, there was no blindspot.

Weapons were hot, target areas were highlighted within the HUD of each Officer, and all everyone waited for was the command to fire.

"Light them up!"

Everyone received the announcement at the same time.

A wall of light, heat, and plasma expanded and spread across the forest with the troops as its center.

The world glowed with incandescence as threads of plasma rounds from railguns streaked across the distance between Tempest's forces and connected with the enemy— an army of skeletons. It painted the surrounding landscape in a shade of white too bright for the naked eye to register anything except for the light from the plasma.

Everything that can be set on fire became a blazing inferno. Trees appeared like large candles as they burst into flames, the grass was like an oil spill as wildfires dispersed, and the targets were sliced apart before being carbonized by the intense concentrated heat.

If they were still humans, they would explode in showers of steam as the plasma rapidly boils the water inside their body, expanding its volume by a factor of 1,700 times— the human would sooner die because their internal organs are scrambled into a state of un-recognizability than from the actual heat from the plasma.

Since they're not, only vaporization and disintegration occurred to the dry bones of an individual shambling skeleton once the plasma bolts did hit, with nearby sections blackening.

The air was filled with shockwaves, the atmosphere blew turbulently as the plasma was hot enough to recreate the basic principle upon which wind itself was made.

The army of countless skeletons, some appearing human while others were more bestial, trudged on uncaring of the devastating power of advanced plasma weapons. Even when a single shot from a plasma railgun burned through dozens, it didn't matter when hundreds more took their place.

The army was really looking unending. It was a white sea of bones, all constantly shifting around, walking, inching closer toward the strike group like zombies in a disaster movie. One couldn't really focus on a single skeleton before losing it; they were packed that close together.

Then, the sky rained gamma lasers.

Each Autonomous Military Drones unleashed four rays of coherent light in the gamma spectrum from the four tips of their cross shaped body. They were bright enough that no color could be distinguished aside from white.

In total, hundreds of brilliant rays of intense photons surged downward at light speeds. They moved in a mesmerizing dance of annihilation. They were ethereal blades of light, slicing through the air, passing through multiple undead skeletons with a lethality surpassing most magical weaponry.

With a single stroke, the skull of an undead skeleton was cleaved in two, their body falling apart as if they were a marionette and the strings used to uphold them were cut. The beams continued to travel. These multi-gigajoule gamma lasers were powerful enough to melt through bunker doors within less than a minute of constant exposure, a mere caress from them was enough that any calcium structure in their way will find it very difficult to maintain its orderly structure against the onslaught of coherent photons.

The bleed-off from the lasers ionized the surrounding air and instantly carbonize the closest bones.

In total, the rain of gamma lasers lasted only a single second, as any longer risks damaging the lens used to concentrate photons. Yet in that second, each beam moved so quickly that all the skeletons underneath the drones were turned into useless charred, burning pieces of bones. Oddly enough, those bones were releasing a really large amount of smoke.

The next closest skeleton was now invisible against the backdrop of a forest on fire. The forest fire started spreading supernaturally fast. Smokes from the flames veiled the enemy's movements from most forms of motion sensors, huge fires served as a cover for infrared cameras, and the heat made most forms of echolocation entirely unreliable.

In a single move, the Tempest strike force accidentally blinded themselves.

"Sir! We're forced to raise the heights of the drones to a much higher level as the smoke will clog their engines." One of the lower-ranking Officers shouted.

"Mr. President! We're effectively blind to anything within the fire!" Another said.

"It seems the smoke is enchanted..." Albedo finally added, "A type of smoke that conceals whatever is inside."

Meanwhile, Rimuru was looking a bit sheepish. "...Shit, didn't realize that would happen."

He really didn't. The slime didn't take into account how with a single move, the battlefield turned against them.

It seems that the enemy knew that Tempest used plasma and laser-based weaponry— probably from those videos Scientia released. So then, they made the trees and skeletons release this special kind of smoke when they are burned, all in an effort to even the battlefield against superior firepower and technology.

Right now, Rimuru wondered if this was like the Vietnam War from his old World, where instead of using the cover of jungle foilage, the opposition used magical smoke.

Cupping his chin, Rimuru pondered a way of getting out of this. If they are blind... then just send out smaller drones to act as eyes.

"Tell our marines to use their Survey Drones."

Survey Drones are small, helicopter-like drones that are no bigger than a pencil. They are given to each Autonomous Marine to act as an extra eye in the sky, offering additional recon ability and battlefield information collection that can then be shared with other marines and Officers. A dozen of these drones grant an Autonomous Marine near omniscience over an area of 10,000 square meters, making most forms of surprise attacks and ambush useless.

"Mr. President." This time it was Rubedo who finally spoke up, "Why don't we use the Tripods? We already know the general idea of where the enemy group is, our troops can take cover as the Tripods unleash absolute hell upon the forces of the enemy necromancers."

The slime was a bit hesitant. In truth, he wanted to lead this military assault on Jistav for mainly two reasons. The first was to show Scientia that he isn't some fragile being requiring constant protection, and the second was to reassure himself that he isn't some weak-ass slime.

Being killed tend to destroy one's own confidence in oneself. More so when you were trapped and forced to watch helplessly as your body fall apart— disintegrated— within that pillar of holy light before finally, your consciousness ended.

Rimuru's fingers twitched as phantom pain assaulted the edge of his senses. Even though it was a painless way to go out, being killed by [Disintegration] was far scarier than being killed with a knife. In the slime's personal opinion.

Rimuru ignored [Tattletale].

Using a trump card at the first sign of something not going according to plan doesn't build confidence.

"Albedo, what do you think?" Torn between either looking good or making a good decision, Rimuru delegated the ultimate deciding factor to the pink Kijin.

Albedo thought about things for some moments before finally speaking up, "I think we should carpet bomb our surrounding area, to flush out the enemy necromancer so to speak, and chop off the head to kill the body."

Rimuru grimaced for a moment before returning to a neutral expression.

In a typical sci-fi space-faring empire, the primary armament held within a Tripod would be ranked as 'capital-ship grade', because that's how destructive Filament Projectors are.

An interesting property of Subspace is that anti-squarks (the Supersymmetric partner of an anti-quark) don't react explosively with a squark. This effectively offers a very safe and reliable method of containing antimatter so long as one can keep it there.

The Filament Projector keeps strands (filaments) of anti-hydrogen molecules within Subspace and only materializes it in Realspace if the situation demands it, hence, 'projecting' it into the World and having it react explosively. In essence, a weaponized Slingshot drive with no blindspot and a range only limited by what it can detect.

The drones rose up as fast as they can, and the Officers and Marines all laid flat on the ground to take cover.

Since the captains of the Tripods know where the strike force is but not the enemy, all of them opted to aim the Filament Projectors towards everywhere that doesn't contain friendlies.

It was only two minutes after the last plasma railgun stopped firing when the annihilation reaction began.

Cataclysmic fireballs erupted all around the Tripods as strands of anti-hydrogen materialized into existence and touched the air molecules composed of normal matter.

The night became day with how bright everything was. Brilliant flashes of gamma radiation accompanied the release of the energy that held particles and antiparticles together, mostly comprising of the binding energy between quarks— the Strong Nuclear Force.

Those enemies who were closest to the ground zero of the explosion were simply wiped away, with not even ashes remaining since the temperature was hot enough to turn everything into plasma.

The detonations sent out shockwaves that reverberated through the air. They tore through everything like a runaway train tearing through a neighborhood. It blew away the smoke, shattered the burning trees into tiny fragments— that is if they haven't been vaporized, and swept all skeletons away.

All that remained was a smoking crater shaped more like a ring, surrounding the strike force. The forest was gone, the enemy army was gone— everything now lay in silence, as if the world was taking a moment to contemplate what just happened, to fully realize the aftermath of using such a destructive weapon.

A lower-ranking Officer then reported, "All enemy forces have been wiped out— scratch that, we have a visual on a single... lich?"

Right there, three kilometers away from where the strike force was currently hunkering down, stood a single lich dressed in fine clothing more fitting on a figure of immense religious significance. Around it were colorful shields weaved expertly from magicules that protected it from much of the damage brought about by the antimatter explosion.

Though given how it was kneeling as if exhausted, protecting itself from the Filament Projectors must've taken a lot out of it.

Rubedo then directed the fire control Officer, "Finish it—"

"No."

Rimuru overwrote Rubedo's orders.

"I will deal with it."

There's a certain degree of finality in Rimuru's voice as if he has the last say and to object is to object against a higher authority.

Rubedo was taken aback. Usually, Rimuru and he are pretty relaxed, and informal except in public cases, and even then, the President was very friendly. To the point where Scientia would say too friendly.

"Mr. President—" Albedo tried to say, only to get cut off when the humanoid slime pushed the guard of the katana out of its sheath with a single 'click'.

"I will deal with it."

The blade singed as it was fully unsheathed. Standing up from his seat, everyone in the room can see there's a slight shimmer to Kusanagi, an ethereal outlook as if it shouldn't exist.

"Wait, Mr. President! Please consider this for a moment: do you think Director Scientia would want you to needlessly risk your life? After the length she took to give it back to you?" Albedo called out, her right-hand mere inches away from grasping onto Rimuru's shoulder.

To actually touch someone else would be considered improper, especially in a formal setting like this.

Rimuru did stop and sheathed his blade. Taking a glance at the exhausted necromancer displayed on the holographic screen, the slime then said, "Rubedo, take over. Only fire if Adalman does any threatening gesture. Albedo, I need to talk with you privately. Now."

Rubedo nodded and sat down on the same seat that Rimuru used to before the two left the command room towards a more private part of the Tripod.

Walking into a maintenance hallway devoid of anything except for some neon lights and an emergency escape hatch at the end, Albedo was the first to talk.

Dropping the formal mask, Albedo reverted back to the informal 'friend' persona.

"Why the hell are you doing something so risky? Are you seriously TRYING to make Scientia's effort all for nothing?"

Something inside Rimuru snapped the second he heard Albedo's words. Like a volcano building up stress, the slime's fuse blew.

"Don't you think I don't know what I'm getting into?" Rimuru seethed, his golden eyes a visage of rage as his mouth is pulled back into a snarl, "I am not like the old me. Every moment that I'm not working as a President is a moment I am training with Rubedo or Jeanne— do you really think I'm as weak as I was before I died?"

Placing a fist in front of his chest, the slime stared deep into Albedo's eyes.

"I know I grew complacent after I became President. Dying made that more than obvious. I recognized how I've pretty much cruised through a crisis after crisis, mostly letting Scientia deal with them while I just took the unclaimed credit being the head of the government and all. Paperwork became my main focus after the founding of the Jura Tempest Republic."

Rimuru's lips thinned until they couldn't be seen anymore. To Albedo, it seemed that the slime was struggling with something, with some part of himself unreconciliable.

"I need to fight. I need to prove to myself, but more importantly, to Scientia and the rest of the world that I am not a weakling. My complacency already made those closest to me pay the price. Scientia paid the price of my mistake. She burned herself so that I could come back."

The sight of the Perfect Homunculus breaking down was one Albedo could never forget.

Albedo, like all of her Kijin companions, never had a great relationship with Scientia. She's always this looming figure in the background, like a sleeping dragon, always there, dangerous if provoked, yet peaceful if left alone.

The breakdown irreparably shattered that image. It made Albedo realize Scientia isn't some inhuman invincible monster, but a very flawed being prone to social connections just like her and other humans.

How... mortal of her. To feel guilt over the deaths of so many transient beings.

Mortals and immortals are fundamentally unable to understand each other. One could perhaps walk a mile in the other's shoes but true empathy? Impossible. The very idea of an immortal loving a mortal is about as incomprehensible as a human loving a flash of lightning. The best that a mortal can be to an immortal is a pet, failing that, property. This aspect was embodied by Violet of the Seven Primordials.

Legend says that Violet tried to understand mortals by trying to create a nuclear family— one comprising two parents and their children. Eventually, after failing an almost innumerable number of times, the Primordial gave up and went back to her sadistic ways.

"In the end, I couldn't even help Scientia when she was at her lowest. What kind of friend am I?" Rimuru's eyes took on an extra reflective sheen, "I promised myself to get closer to her, and yet... I couldn't even comfort her! I felt so useless! I wanted to resign! But I didn't. So, Albedo, please, let me go. Let me prove to her, to myself, that I have grown beyond my weak self into someone strong, someone that's strong enough to be worthy of calling Scientia a friend, someone who's strong enough to carry at least some of the burdens from Scientia's shoulders. I want to be so strong that Tempest can proudly call its President."

For Rimuru, it was like a dam bursting. He spilled his heart out, letting go of the feelings that have been building up ever since his resurrection. His self-loathing came outward like a flash flood and if he had remained human, the slime doesn't doubt he would be full-on crying right now.

Albedo was speechless. In the place of a verbal response, she nodded and accepted his reason, adding with a soft and gentle smile, "Just... please be extra careful."

"I will," Rimuru said with a grateful expression.

The humanoid slime then used his thumb and pushed out the crossguard, revealing the actual blade to the world before teleporting away and appearing 30 meters away from where the necromancer was.

Despite being a lich, one could easily tell based on its body language alone that the kneeling Adalman was tired.

The next thing that Rimuru focused on was the clothing, which was luxurious enough to fit more on the body of an important Saint rather than a skeleton.

In the games that Satoru Mikami played, all necromancers wore dark, brooding clothing to reflect the nature of death. Though... perhaps Adalman was a reincarnated Japanese?

Ridding himself of such thoughts, Rimuru began.

"Adalman? The Index Finger of Clayman's Fingers?"

Even if it looked so vulnerable, Rimuru never allowed his guard down as he held the handle of Kusanagi tight enough that within but a single moment, it can be drawn.

"Argh." Adalman stood up from his kneeling position, groaning as if in pain, "How interesting that you know my name. I was sure I was the most secretive member of Clayman's Five Fingers. Though, is it not common courtesy to introduce oneself before we fight?"

Rimuru's head tilted forward by the tinniest margins as if asking Adalman was for real or not. Upon realizing the lich was serious, the slime introduced himself properly, "My name is Rimuru Tempest, President of the Jura Tempest Republic... and Scientia's friend."

In his usual introduction, Rimuru would forgo that last part.

Adalman nodded. Cracking his head, the lich returned the courtesy, "My name is Adalman, the Index Finger. I am an ex-Cardinal of the Western Holy Church, cursed by Demon Lord Kazaream to forever protect his land. Now, let us fight to the very end. [Magic Missile]!"

Gesturing his hand to the President, Adalman unleashed several bolts of destructive magic that traveled at speeds comparable to a bullet.

Because of a fully powered [Thought Acceleration], those missiles were moving excruciatingly slow, allowing Rimuru to fully comprehend what [Tattletale] was reporting.

Though [Tattletale] has the incredible ability to infer immense amounts of data from the tiniest amount of information, Rimuru had to turn it off most of the time because it tends to, for lack of a better word, ramble on.

If activated, most of the information [Tattletale] provides is trivia, with only perhaps 1% being somewhat useful and 0.1% being actually useful. In a sense, using [Tattletale] is like a fishing boat doing bottom trawling; the huge net may capture all of the fish but only a tiny percentage is the desirable species.

<Adalman's faith was shattered when someone close to him betrayed him. That 'someone' has to be at least as close as a best friend>

Pushing away the inferred information concerning the quality of the dirt underneath his feet, Rimuru conjured up an anchor in the form of a question for [Tattletale] to focus on.

'Is there anything else interesting about him?'

'Nothing more huh? Although I don't even need to attack, do I? I can beat him with just words.'

<Adalman's bones are very nutritious if made into a broth>

'...'

As those magic missiles neared, they suddenly veered off course, curving around Rimuru before continuing their straight path, creating an explosion behind the President that caused his and Adalman's clothing to flutter about.

"Someone betrayed you, didn't they?" The suddenness of Rimuru's words caught Adalman off guard, who froze suddenly. Taking this hint, the slime continued, "Ah yes indeed, it was someone close to you, I assume a dear friend?"

No response.

"A higher-up then?" Adalman flinched.

Bingo.

"Enough. Fight me! [Cursed Binds]!"

Black wispy, ghostly snakes emerged from Adalman's back and sprang towards Rimuru.

Switching Kusanagi's element from space into gravity, Rimuru created intense gravitational fields that are directed upwards into space like a funnel. Because gravity is invisible, the only evidence that something happened was how all the surrounding air started rushing toward a particular spot.

The instant those ghostly snakes crossed the threshold of five meters away from the slime, they were blasted upward into the stratosphere, disintegrating into a fine mist along the way.

"You know, Adalman, you don't need to fight me and Tempest. We could help you get back at the Western Holy Church, to help you gain your revenge against the higher-ups that betrayed you."

Offering the lich a hand, Rimuru continued, "The two of us aren't so different. I myself have been wronged by the Western Holy Church, and my dearest friend paid the price of getting me back. Join me, and we can free you before helping you get your revenge against the Church!"

Adalman growled, seemingly didn't want to hear any more of what Rimuru said, almost as if he was afraid.

A magic circle the size of a football field materialized underneath the necromancer. It was large enough that the circle's edge could almost reach where Rimuru was standing.

From that magic circle arose Adalman's strongest summons. Half-rotten bear-demihumans whose punch and pierce a wooden wall, Dragonewts whose agility is fast enough to cross a small country in a single night, and to top it all off, a Death Dragon emerged right under the feet of Adalman, bringing him up into the air.

"Even if you and I are similar and our differences small, it is far too late for someone like me to think of revenge. Even if I wanted to, I am too tired to go on. I have lived for far too long, and have seen far too much. Since I cannot kill myself I shall use you as a medium, to free me from my curse." More and more skeletons rose out of the ground, made not from dead bodies but from pure magic.

"If I rescue you from your curse, will you let us pass?"

Adalman scoffed as if a childish notion had just been suggested. "Oh please, it will be far easier to just end me. But to be polite and humor you, my savior, I agree to let you all pass. I will now unleash my greatest magic, do not hold anything back!"

Numerous colorful circles of magic materialized and started orbiting Adalman as if they were planets and the lich a star. The circles became more and more numerous until one couldn't count them anymore.

Still not too much for [Tattletale] though.

Grasping the handle of Kusanagi with both hands, Rimuru lowered his body by squatting a bit while bringing the blade up next to his face. With the cutting edge of the katana pointing up to the sky and the blade itself parallel to the ground, Rimuru looked like a samurai in the middle of a stand-off against an opponent.

"Time to end this! Since this is in the name of defending Amrita, I am allowed to use whatever means at my disposal. Therefore, I shall use my own soul as fuel for this spell! [Death Wave]!"

A point of raw blackness surfaced into existence right in front of Adalman, at the center of this storm of magic circles. The point flickered as it grew larger, sometimes becoming smaller, sometimes becoming bigger, but always returning to the same rate of growth.

Then, the sphere exploded, and from it, emerged a dark tidal wave that unfolded itself over all directions.

It was like looking at the water coming out of a faucet. Streams of water that were originally concentrated but became decoherent once they hit the bottom of the sink, before spreading outward in an attempt to fill its container.

The tsunami came forth. Having [Thought Acceleration] at maximum made the spell painfully slow as Rimuru pumped as much magicule into it as possible.

He then switched the blade's element into something else. Something more relevant, something to counteract death.

Life.

Kusanagi now shone with a radiance comparable to a second sun. Though, unlike the sun, its glow isn't harsh but instead comforting. All around Rimuru, never-seen-before lifeforms sprouted from what once was a small crater formed from the reaction of matter against antimatter. Life came forth as if guided by the gentle radiance of Rimuru's blade.

The life that sprouted around Rimuru was shaped like moss, only it was composed of countless interwoven iridescent tendrils and filaments, creating a sort of web that forms its body structure. If studied by Scientia, she would conclude these are a type of extremophiles that can live within the very vacuum of space, harvesting the light from its parent star alongside minerals from the asteroid they would cling onto in a process of energy conversion known as 'Chemosynthesis'. This moss possess a life cycle measured in millions of years because of how slow its metabolism is.

Life originally came from nothingness. Using the minerals and microbes both in the air and the ground, new life multi-cellular life emerged with an evolutionary tree separate from the rest of the planet because it's so new.

When the wave of death was just about to hit the edge of the moss-like life, Rimuru swung the blade around his head like the hands of a clock before slashing at the wave of darkness.

Like shining a megawatt flashlight into a dark room, the death tsunami parted as light overtook everything. The world was engulfed in life. Magic changed the very laws of physics within that radiance, making it so that the universe has never been more accommodating to self-replicating patterns than it is right this instance.

The wavefront of Life cut right through all the undead Adalman summoned as well as any magic shields he could've conjured up. Perhaps if Rimuru was a bit more powerful, then Adalman could've regained his humanity, but even so, once everything subsided, the lich still stood where he originally cast [Death Wave], only much more different.

One would think an embodiment of Life would deal a tremendous blow toward a being of Unlife, however, there wasn't a single scratch on Adalman's skeletal body. In fact, if anything, Adalman looked better than before. His robes looked much cleaner, his bones practically glowed, and every one of his summonses was gone.

Or rather, they've finally passed on.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Adalman's strongest summons were those who were the closest to him before he became a wight, though to some people, a 'lich'. Necromancy is more than manipulating the dead. High-tier necromancy involves the manipulation of the boundary between the material and immaterial realms— to bind souls to artifacts.

Demon Lord Kazaream used high-tier necromancy to bind the souls of Adalman's friends to their dead bodies, creating undead that served as an initial starting force under Adalman.

To Adalman, however, these were a twisted mockery, always there, haunting the undead guardian. It was painful, so Adalman spent most of his free time trying to figure out a way to let them go in peace.

He was successful, but it was contingent on their desire to pass on.

Even if they could no longer communicate, Adalman often wondered why they never passed on, to be free unlike him.

But now, that no longer matters.

"How...?"

The curse given to him by Kazaream was gone.

He was, for the first time in centuries, finally freed. All around him, the dead environment returned to life.

The stinking air was replaced by one of freshness. The dead trees are now covered in fresh green vines. The barren ground now blossomed with countless blades of grass with a height that reaches Adalman's waist.

Amrita, for the first time since time immemorial, was alive. The curse upon the land brought about by the late Kazaream was finally shattered beyond its ability to self-repair.

"This shouldn't be possible! Who are you!? How did you break my chains??" Adalman asked the humanoid slime who stood in the center of all this Life.

"As I said before, my name is Rimuru Tempest, the President of the Jura Tempest Republic and friend to Scientia Tempest. And for how I broke your chains?" Rimuru smirked, confidence brimming from his body. Particles of light— multi-cellular nocturnal lifeforms that emit light as part of their hunting pattern analogous to deep-sea fishes— rose all around the slime, making him look like an angel of life that just descended from the heavens, "Well, from my perspective, what is life without freedom? What is life without liberty? What is life without autonomy? Nothing."

Offering Adalman a hand, "Now that I've freed you from your curse, it's time for you—"

*Fump*

Adalman prostrated himself in front of Rimuru as if he was a god and the skeleton a worshipper.

"...What are you doing?" The slime asked after a bit of silence.

"I thank you, President Rimuru, for freeing me from my curse. Through it, you have gained my eternal loyalty."

"Uh..." The confidence that was there before evaporated quicker than droplets of water thrown onto a hot pan. Rimuru now looked startled at the drastic turn of events.

"Yeah but like, you don't need to do this! Plus, it was Scientia who gave me the ability to free you, so if anything you should direct most of your gratitude to her."

"So it was your friend who granted you the power to help me?" Adalman concluded as he raised his upper body up so that the skull is fully facing Rimuru. His legs were in a kneeling position that was looking increasingly uncomfortable.

"Uh, sure, yes. Now you can just get up and we can take Amrita—"

"I see! Then a new faith shall be created, one centered around God Rimuru and the Messiah Scientia who helped you realize your true potential and ascend to godhood! What a wonderful name for a deity!"

Rimuru visibly cringed at the reverence in Adalman's voice. It reminded him of his old country of Japan, more specifically, of the way zealots of the Unification Church like his uncle would talk about their beliefs and cry when their founder died in 2012.

Recalling what Scientia said about Church fanatics when he returned from that visit to Dwargon, the slime decided that it was best to snip this bud before it can grow.

"Adalman, listen, I'm not a god. If anything, the closest to a deity would be Scientia with her technology that becomes indistinguishable from magic."

"I see then! A new faith shall be made, one centered around Scientia!"

Adalman's words gave Rimuru pause as he imagined Scientia being a god.

Ruberios was burning. Scientia, clad in her void-like armor, stood in the middle of this sea of fire, untouched by the heat and the lack of oxygen. With a single swing, the Perfect Homunculus cuts down large swathes of Holy Knights using Asimov before teleporting in unimaginably advanced cannons behind her that shoot out colorful beams that then annihilated Ruberios' capital.

Like a cruel and uncaring god, Scientia then telekinetically grabbed the Pope of the Luminous Faith before closing her hand and started to crush the man until he was no more than a single ball of flesh and gore.

Rimuru shuddered at the violent and visceral image before silently reprimanding himself for thinking so poorly of his friend.

'Sheesh! So faith is needed?'

<Yes>

"All... right then. I guess you can create a faith around Scientia but..."

Trailing off, Rimuru can already tell Scientia won't like this. She was someone who pushed the hardest during the making of the Constitution for secularism and the separation of Church and State, before further doubling down on reducing the power of religion by making it so that any organized religion must pay taxes on their property but not on their income, just like every other Tempest Residents and Citizens.

Personally, Rimuru's more curious about how Adalman would address the issue between faith and the empirical nature of science. While people are freely allowed to practice their religion, Scientia would not bother at all to help Adalman just like how she didn't even acknowledge the existence of the numerous small cults that sprain up around Tempest, worshipping either Rimuru or her or even both.

Stanch atheist and all that.

"Thank you President Rimuru!"

_____________________________________________

In the meantime, in a pocket dimension, Walpurgis.

According to Diablo, the green-haired maid that came to collect me was one of Guy's closest subordinates, and also a Primordial— the Green Primordial to be exact.

I had to stop for half a second to fully process that information. Guy Crimson clearly knows the significance of having a Primordial in a subservient (maid) role, and if Jeanne and Diablo were any indications, the apex of the Demonic Nobility must be all at least somewhat prideful (Diablo is a different kind of prideful). As such, to be able to command two Primordials and force them into such a degrading position...

Guy Crimson must be very powerful indeed. As such, I sent a message through the Noosphere to prepare a billion of the already constructed ships of my Grand Fleet for activation at a moment's notice.

The Block-Form Singularity Mathematic's main purpose against Guy in a fight would be to merely last long enough for the built-in Subspace Diver to throw me out of this pocket dimension. I may not know the full depth of magic of the caliber that Guy possesses can do, but in the worst-case scenario, I can only hope the Mathematic can last at least three milliseconds. That's the amount of time it takes for the Diver to force me into Subspace where I think I'll be safe.

After a quick retune of the warp space of my Mathematic to allow the foreign translocation spell, I walked through the metal gate and appeared on the edge of a rather fancy room.

The place was filled to the brim with magicules. A normal human couldn't possibly survive here without protection.

It couldn't really be called the peak of luxury, I observed. The walls and floors had the color of a dull gold while sitting in the center of this room was a large round table surrounded by ten seats nine of them empty. The most eye-catching thing in the room I would argue is probably the giant ethereal 'tree' that's coming out of the center of the table, serving as the primary source of illumination with lanterns off to the side of the room being relegated to a secondary position.

If someone told me this was a set from a King Arthur movie, I could almost believe them. It's the main vibe that's really killing the possibility of it relating to King Arthur since this room gives some serious Dark Lord feel like maybe it's the boss room for the final big bad.

A quick glance at my companions, I found Diablo continue to be as calm and collected as ever whereas Jeanne looked bored as if she had seen this all before.

Sitting down on the nearest chair, I disguised my act of observing the only other one who was sitting in the room as me getting comfortable.

Red hair, red eyes, a rather handsome face, and clothes draped over him revealing a lot of skin... that's most likely Guy Crimson.

[Confirmed]

[Contessa]'s agreement sealed the deal.

My two subordinates stood behind me quietly, and from a glance at their face, even a child with barely any social experience can tell they were tense.

Tapping on the desk, I found the thing to be made out of metal instead of the expected wood.

From another teleportation door came Ramiris, who was accompanied by a blue-haired maid and no subordinates of her own.

The fairy gave me a curt nod before sitting down, signaling that she was on my side as agreed upon before.

"Well Rouge, long time no see..." Diablo suddenly spoke, causing my attention to drift back toward the first person in the room, who was one of, if not the, oldest Demon Lord in existence, "Or do you prefer I address you as Guy Crimson?"

Said Demon Lord gave me an intense look before smirking. Waving his hands in front of his face as if dismissing Diablo's concern, Guy said, "As I live and breathe. Noir, I would have never imagined you of all people taking a master. Though I guess I should be more interested in you, Jaune."

Jeanne forced a smile, "Oh yeah? And why's that?"

Guy's hands came together in a frozen clap before gesturing at the Yellow Primordial, "Your bloodline is notoriously difficult to form a contract with. But here you are, working under someone. How peculiar."

It's as if I didn't even exist.

"Times are changing," Diablo said wistfully, "The status quo from before is gone, and my Lady is the Herald of Change."

The way they act is similar to two old frienemies. I wonder how close are they? The psychology and social structure of immortals are always fascinating. They would be completely different from those of mortal species like humans and demihumans since the Social Contract that is fundamental to group dynamics requires a fear of exclusion, as exclusion means death.

It's why many crimes like murder or stealing are frowned heavily upon because they actively go against the survival of the group.

"I take it you two know each other? Being Primordials and all?"

"Yup!" Jeanne cuts in before Diablo could talk. Strutting behind my chair and draping her arms over my shoulders as if we were lovers, she leaned in placing her chin on my head, "We are the Primordials, Seven Colors representing the seven demonic bloodlines. We are royalty, and as you already know, I am Yellow, the guy with a stick up his ass is Black, and that guy who's even more of a battle maniac than I am is Red."

"I see—"

With the grace of a bull in a china shop, the next Demon Lord made himself known by the mere sound that comes from his heavy footsteps. Jeanne backed off. This new Demon Lord was far taller than I was, his height almost reached the ceiling of this place.

Looking at the giant, I figure this likely Dagruel, a Second Generation Demon Lord and someone strong enough to fight almost toe-to-toe with Veldora. He followed Vert, the Green Primordial who fetched me. Behind him was another person with wings.

I don't recognize him, so then he's probably the much-disputed Dino.

Seemingly choosing a seat, the chair expanded as Dagruel sat down.

The blue Primordial who collected Ramiris then came out of another teleportation gate with a vampire, a maid, and a butler in tow.

Demon Lord Valentin.

The Mathematics on a part of my left shoulder formed a tiny laser pointer that can easily be mistaken for the sparkle of a piece of jewelry. Pointing it at the gate, the laser pointer shot out streams of coherent neutrinos that then exited out the other side.

With receivers that use gravitons as a medium for transporting information, the satellites orbiting my home planet told me the neutrino laser came from... Ruberios of all places.

I frowned. Interesting, though speaking of Ruberios, I wonder how is my little weapon coming along. My ultimate goal with that little Virasite was to effectively take over the Western Holy Church and direct it towards a less xenophobic stance regarding 'subhumans'. It'll be far easier and less bloody to simply reform the Church rather than outright banning it since as Christianity and the Native American cultures can attest, unless you're actively committing a holocaust, it's very difficult to remove cultures and faith.

Though, if the Church has ties to a Demon Lord, that may prove to be a problem.

It was only when the vampire sat down that I realized his maid is looking at me funny. Like someone trying to conceal the fact, they're glaring at you, the moment my eyes move to look at the maid she instantly turned her head away.

Is this Valentin's attempt at a power play? Like the vampire is saying that I'm so weak his own subordinates can look down at me?

"Is it usual for one's attendant to be so rude?" I called out, catching everyone's attention, "Demon Lord Valentin, your maid is looking especially hateful today, isn't she? I may be new to the Demon Lord circle but I dare say such action isn't really befitting of a Second Generation Demon Lord... or are you so pathetic you see someone new like me as a genuine threat?"

Valentin merely looked thoughtful for a brief moment before nodding, "I apologize for the action of my subordinate. I will reprimand her harshly after this Walpurgis is over."

Still though, that maid...

[Data]

'How the hell does that maid have [Asmodeus, Lord of Lust] while Valentin's got nothing?'

[Suggestion]

'Well, I guess there are no rules stipulating you can't be in disguise but why?'

[Suggestion]

'That's fair.'

As Valentin sat down on his seat, I took a good look at the maid. She's a vampire as well, not surprising coming from the vampire Demon Lord. Though from what I remember, the last vampire Demon Lord was killed alongside her kingdom of Nightrose during the event known to historians of today as 'Dawnbreak', for the morning rose over the kingdom of the twilight.

During Dawnbreak, Veldora ravaged the vampire kingdom within the Jura Forest, destroying every piece of it until not even remnants remained of the old Demon Lord's domain. Veldora continued to ravage, moving from Lake Shisu westward until Chronoa stopped him and sealed the True Dragon away... until both I and Rimuru found him three centuries later.

Among the more scholarly circles, the cave where Veldora was sealed was called 'Storm's End'.

It was thought that vampires as a whole have mostly gone extinct. The common conscience among the Western elites was that Luminous Valentine, the previous vampire Demon Lord, must've somehow enraged Veldora enough for the True Dragon to effectively drive her species into near extinction, with maybe a few handfuls left.

When I asked Veldora about these topics, he was just as always, reluctant to talk about it like a teenager embarrassed to talk about their emo phase. However, with some pushing, I at least got the cause of the rampage; Luminous decided to expand her kingdom's lands and trespassed upon Veldora's own. Being a dragon, Veldora defended what was his fiercely and brought about Luminous' downfall after deciding to make an example of the vampire Demon Lord.

Veldora assured me that he slew Luminous so that mostly ruled out the possibility of Luminous Valentine still being alive. But given how the faith of the Western Holy Church is called 'Luminism'... While I don't know the intelligence of Luminous, I highly doubt she's stupid enough to use her own name as a disguise. God Luminous simply must be referring to someone else.

I then observed the interaction between Dino and Ramiris, silently taking note of anything I can use to my advantage.

[Data]

[Contessa] says Dino is a 'Fallen Angel', instantly piquing my interest. Perhaps I should reach out with an alliance with Dino. Any information concerning angels would be invaluable.

Next came the harpy Demon Lord Frey and her two attendants, one another harpy, and what I can only presume is some type of humanoid griffin given it's a lion standing on two legs with wings.

For some reason [Contessa] is giving me odd vibes about that one.

[Concern]

'I see, I'll keep an extra eye on that one.'

[Alert]

[Contessa] alerted me to the new presence. Turning to face it, I found a platinum blond-haired man walking towards me, stopping just shy of Diablo's reach toward my left.

"So you are Relentless Reborn?"

That instantly caught everyone's attention.

I felt my right eye twitch at the title he called me. Obviously, that's meant to be some kind of insult, so in place of properly answering him, I replied, "The Great Betrayer of Humanity."

I saw his hands twitch subtly. I wouldn't have noticed if not for the heightened perception that being a Perfect Homunculus granted me.

Continuing to keep him off-balanced, I leaned on my left forearm which is planted on the armrest so that I'm closer to the Demon Lord.

Speaking in a much quieter tone, "Humor me for a second, how does it feel to be an ex-Hero? Good? Bad? How does it feel to fall into the dark side for the sweet promise of more power? Do your old allies look at you with disgust? Do you still have the mementos you gained as gifts from Granbell, Chronoa, and all those you've saved when you were a Hero?"

Both of Leon's hands tightened into fists. He's not even trying to be discreet anymore.

"Do not judge me, Relentless. If you think I became a Demon Lord solely for more power, then you are as wrong as your predecessor in trying to destroy the world only to unify it."

Leon turned and walked towards his seat. Meanwhile, I was angry. To call me Relentless Reborn is one thing, but to just call me Relentless as if I was that monster? That mindless monster whose body count is in the hundreds of millions? More than every dictator from my old world combined? Just because I am a Perfect Homunculus?

Looking around at the table, I saw that it dawned upon those who didn't know beforehand that I was a Perfect Homunculus.

Well... given how the Voice of the World exposed me, I figured it was pointless to try and hide it anymore. Still, I felt a petty desire to get back at Cromwell.

'[Path to getting back at Leon Cromwell]'

[3 steps]

[Step 1: ask him provocatively about his Ultimate Skill [Metatron, Lord of Purity]]

Just as Leon Cromwell was about to sit down—

"—Tell me something, Cromwell," He turned to face me again, "Whenever you use your Ultimate Skill [Metatron], does the irony ever... become too much? Do you laugh at the irony of having an Ultimate Skill all about 'purity' when you yourself are the farthest thing from it? Tell me does it make you want to use it more or less?"

I chuckled a bit.

"Though at this point, an ex-Hero having an Ultimate Skill all about Purity of all things... you simply must enjoy the irony."

Now for the final nail in the coffin. I placed a finger on my chin before looking up as if I was a child wondering about the mysteries of the world. Speaking in an innocent tone that reminds me of Arcueid, "Although, I wonder, did you gain [Metatron] during your Heroic Ascension or when you turned into a Majin? How many childrens did you kill to perform your Harvest Festival?"

To be honest, I don't know if Cromwell did commence a Harvest Festival. Some texts say he did while some didn't.

[Step 2: get Leon to attack]

Leon launched himself at me, his fist ready—

*Boom*

—but was stopped by Jeanne, who promptly threw him away as if he was a snowball toward the wall between two teleportation gates.

[Step 3: act hurt]

"I thought this was supposed to be a neutral ground, oh why have you attacked me, Leon? Was any part of the things I said wrong?" I asked in a tone full of faux hurts. It must've been infuriating. "If any part of what I said was wrong, you are free to correct me."

Leon merely glared at me before taking a seat.

There was no chance of me and him ever allying, especially not if he sees me as Relentless. That ex-Hero will always be on the lookout for opportunities to sabotage me.

Finally, Milim and Clayman came out of a single teleportation gate. Milim's motions were robotic and subdued while Clayman's was confident, taking wide strides as if nothing can hurt him.

Looking at his smug expression, I came to the realization that I don't really hate him. Hell, the corporate side of me has a small amount of respect for the Demon Lord. Clayman is an opportunist who will use whatever that's in his arsenal to win, his dealing with Mjurran and the way he used people would've made him right at home in Human Resources or at least a Management Position within a company.

He's not directly responsible for Rimuru's death, and my dealings with Milim were pure business. I provide her with food while she provides me with protection. No matter how much she acts like there's more to it— entering unannounced in my hot spring, popping up as if she owned the place— all of these are not stipulated in the agreement I had with her so they could be considered violations.

And well— I would've been satisfied to let Clayman mostly be as Tempest slowly entered more and more into the spotlight on the world stage. So long as he started a campaign of at least some reforms, Jistav would've been left alone.

But now, his interest and mine have become mutually exclusive.

Clayman roughly pushed Milim along, much to the shock of other Demon Lords.

"Greetings, fellow Demon Lords, I'm thankful that you waited for us," Clayman announced as he and Milim sat down.

Once everyone is settled, the blue-haired maid started to speak, "We shall now introduce everyone in this Walpurgis."

"Demon, the Lord of Darkness, Guy Crimson."

"Fairy, the Fairy of the Labyrinth, Ramiris."

We're going by seniority, huh?

"Dragonoid, the Destroyer, Milim Nava."

"Giant, the Earthquake, Dagruel."

"Vampire, the Blood Lord, Roy Valentin."

"Fallen, the Sleeping Ruler, Dino."

"Harpy, the Sky Queen, Frey."

"Deathman, the Marionette Master, Clayman."

"Demonoid, the Platinum Saber, Leon Cromwell."

"And lastly, Perfect Homunculus, the Error of the World, Scientia Tempest."

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