Chapter 80: Declaration of War
Text"You know, you should probably be resting."
I called out, wandering over to the figure leaning back against the railing with her arms crossed.
This particular balcony on the highest floor of the Assembly Hall afforded an excellent view of Tempest's evening sunset-tinged glow. Though she didn't seem to notice, as her eyes remained shut, and expression remained cool.
"Shuna might do something drastic if she finds out you're still here. Probably to me, thinking I made you work late."
"She'll be fine. Mary will distract her. Had something to talk to her about, I think." Tanya glanced at me then, and I met her eyes, amused.
A cold breeze drifted along the late winter air. Neither of us seemed bothered by it.
I settled against the railing to her and leaned forward to rest my elbows on the railing, looking over the city. My city, I suppose. Next to me, I noticed Tanya tilting her head back and closing her eyes. The chill lingered, probably, but latent warmth from midday was keeping it on edge.
"You and her, huh?" I asked, curious.
"Hm?"
"It's just... you and Shuna are really close now, aren't you?" I smiled then, not exactly sure how I felt about it beyond contentedness. They're my friends, after all. "Dating?"
"…I wonder? We haven't been to an aquarium yet…" She huffed out a handsome little laugh, then paused a bit in thought. "I won't deny that there is something… more. I'm not really sure. I'm not exactly… used to all of this."
I wasn't entirely sure what she meant, given our differing pasts, but I got the gist of it. Instead of commenting, I shrugged, and tried to lighten the atmosphere.
"Something more than bed partners, right?" Was my quip, and she laughed again, quiet.
"Would you know anything about that?"
"Hey." I wasn't offended, but still. "Low blow, blow below the belt. That means you're disqualified." We shared the amusement that time, a smile from her and a muffled giggle from me. "Don't be rude. You know that's not true."
"Do I? I suppose." Half-lidded, she side-eyed me. "You know, I'll show you rude if you want me too. But no, you're right. I apologize. You aren't some wet-behind-the-ears virgin. You're welcome."
"Sure." I rolled my eyes, and it was only my unique physiology that let me suppress a blush. It shouldn't even be possible for me to blush. "Seriously though, Tanya. How do you feel about her?"
"…feel, huh?" Abruptly, Tanya pushed off the railing and turned to face me. "Humor me for a bit, Rimuru."
I blinked, I think, and took a second to respond. "Of course."
"This might sound strange, but… imagine a fleet of boats. One fleet, however many that is, at a total of 10,000 people. Completely ordinary people. Civilians, families, salarymen and soldiers and knights and mages, hard workers and lazy workers all together. Just people. Residents of some place or another, and perhaps you know some or most of them. Or maybe you don't know any of them."
"Tanya, why-?"
"I know I'm rambling. Just listen." Tanya shook her head, a little oddly, and it's only then that I realize my joke earlier may hit closer to home than I thought, because she has dark circles under her eyes. "Okay? 10,000 ordinary people. The backbone of society, the citizens of a nation, and maybe they aren't good people. Or they're just good people in the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way, people. And then, on the other side is... one single boat, with one single person. One person who is important to you, in some way. A friend, maybe a one-time lover, or family member, or a mentor. In that situation, which would you save? The fleet, or the boat?"
And then, without waiting for me to respond, she says.
"You don't have to answer. It's a stupid question. The answer is obvious, right?"
The thing is… the answer is obvious. She's right. But…
Maybe she was worried about herself. I know she's not exactly used to caring. Maybe she was trying to reaffirm something or other. Anyone reasonable would choose the 10,000. The many over the few. The disparity is simply too great to let personal feelings get in the way.
But I can't be the one to do that.
You're right, Tanya. The answer is obvious.
To me. Even if it means killing 10,000 people to save 1, I've already made my choice.
All that's left now is to live with the consequences.
--
Afternoon
Prison Field Deployment Garrison #2
North of Tempest
"Do you think that grief saves you? Pain exempts from atrocity?"
Two days after the demise of Tanya, and one day after the vengeance of Mary and Shuna, Tempest's true counterattack begins in earnest.
As can only be expected, there is no mercy left to be found.
This is war.
"ENEMY ATTACK! ENEMY- gurck!"
From behind the Templar knight, Souka appears in a crouch, yanking her knife ungraciously from his severed spine. Without looking, she flips the bloody blade between her fingers and throws it over her shoulder.
Another knight finds their white robes splattered in blood, crimson pouring from their jugular.
Souka stands, glaring coldly at the remaining group of cloaked Falmuth church knights. She makes no move to approach them, however.
"This is bad. We're outmatched!" The apparent leader of the group sputters. "We need to retreat. Quickly, retreat to-"
It is the last order he ever gives, and unsuccessfully at that.
Nearly invisible threads of a steel-like material surrounded him and his compatriots, some 10 or so knights. All of them, in less than a second, are reduced to the byproduct of a blender.
Hovering ominously in the center of the camp, distance means nothing as the massive glowing crystal which represents one of the Prison Field's four corners is swiftly coated in red human remnants.
Souei drops down from the trees bordering the garrison, dismissing his Steel Threads into motes of blood-tinted magicules.
Souka falls to one knee, her thrown knife already cleaned and returned to it's hidden sheathe.
"My Kurayami have secured the perimeter." She says, staring up at him. "I'm sorry, Lord Souei. These opponents were far weaker than expected."
Souei nods, then approaches the Prison Field's crystal conduit. In a flash, his swords are in either hand, and in another, the crystal is shattered.
"That's one." He says, not bothering to let go of his deep frown. It's not the weakness of their enemies that upsets him, however.
Such a simple mistake, and look what happened. Never again.
If only he could have joined Mary and Shuna in their revenge. But alas.
"Contact the others about their progress."
"Yes sir!"
--
Prison Field Deployment Garrison #3
South of Tempest
"Ready the air defenses!" A younger looking fellow with an average build and haircut calls out frantically. "It's Lizardmen!"
"GUAHAHAHAHA! Fool! We are Dragonewts!" Alongside his men, Gabiru lands in the center of the camp, brandishing his trident with all the showmanship and aplomb everyone expects from him. All around, the various tents and equipment that make up the enemy camp is slowly being consumed by flames. "Hello, and goodbye! My name is Gabiru! No need to remember it."
He strikes.
His statement is undeniably accurate. Before long, there is no one left to remember anything at all, as the Dragonewts' fire washes away even the memories of the garrison. Along with yet another of the Prison Field's crystal conduits.
--
Prison Field Deployment Garrison #4
East of Tempest
Elsewhere, a team of one takes out his rage on the opposing forces. But the turmoil it not just of rage, or in his heart alone.
"It's fine, Benimaru."
"Th- they never told us about-"
"Even if you say so, Lord Rimuru, killing over 10,000 humans may be... I don't speak out of fear, but rather, concern. I am concerned this may leave permanent scars on your great heart."
"Tch." Benimaru disappears, then reappears behind the terrified Templar knight. He holds his katana out to the side, black flames flooding over the magisteel in violent waves. Behind him, a line of the same flame bisects the hapless knight, before engulfing him entirely.
"I know. I'm a monster, Benimaru. I understand the price I'm paying. And I don't know how I'll look her in the eyes after this is all over, but I don't care. This is my decision. 10,000 for 1. I'm fine with that."
The Kijin turns his attention to the floating crystal the knight had been guarding, and in a blink, performs the same action.
"And, my Lord, if by becoming a Demon Lord, you are no longer…"
Unaffected by the flames, Benimaru settles his katana along his shoulder, as the third of four crystals powering their foe's Prison Field shatters and melts.
"Benimaru. If after I become a Demon Lord, I am no longer myself- if I'm nothing but a mindless seeker of bloodshed and revenge, then I want you to gather up everyone who can fight… even Tanya, if you have to. And I want you to kill me."
"Now then…" He raises his voice, calling across the desolate and ruined encampment. "…is there anyone left struggling out there? I've been in a bad mood lately, and just so you know, if you make me search for you, it won't be pretty."
"…I understand. Then, to make sure, let's come up with a passphrase."
--
Prison Field Deployment Garrison #1
West of Tempest
"Oi. You smug bastard."
Shogo shoulders past one of the Templar knights manning the perimeter, unknowing or uncaring of the sour expression they give him. Hands behind his head, he sneers at his fellow Otherworlder.
"It's been a day already, Kyoya. You'd think they'd be chomping at it to get out, but nothing's happened except that old bastard getting spooked and leaving all hasty style. You don't think they're just gonna die by themselves, right?"
"Of course not, Shogo." Unseen inside his jacket's front pockets, Kyoya clenches his fists, nails digging into his palm enough to leave deep marks. "They'll come. If they know what's good for them, they'll come."
"Sheesh." Shogo clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're more bloodthirsty than me right now. Must be that ugly ass scar you've got there."
True to Shogo's insult, Kyoya face is far from the calm perfection it had been mere days prior. Rather, the left side of his face now features a perfect white line of scar tissue carving straight up from jaw to hairline.
He opens his remaining good eye, glaring hatefully at the other. The effect is only amplified by dark glow of his Extra Skill, All-Seeing Eye – which he'd been making thorough use of since his embarrassing defeat – and the alight runes along his sword, currently held in a white-knuckled reverse grip.
Otherwise, his appearance mimics that of his fellow. Black pants and an unbuttoned button-up jacket, only differentiated by the clothing underneath. For him, it is a black turtleneck, and for Shogo, a white shirt with a black stripe around the midsection.
"If you wish to see the coming action from the medical tent, feel free to insult me further."
That Shogo would be doing so missing a limb or several goes without saying.
"Yeah yeah." Shogo waves him off, though not before taking a few steps back. Confident as he is in his own power, he's not exactly in the mood to test himself against someone with such a grudge. Grumbling to himself, he walks away. "Guess we'll just wait some more. Haven't heard from the others yet, so not much else to do anyway… can't even banter anymore, not with buzzkill over there and Kirara just fucking off somewhere…"
That was another problem. Upon tactically retreating, as it were, the Falmuth Otherworlder trio found themselves down a number. Whether she'd been killed or captured, neither of them knew. But it's not like their handlers cared, nor did he all that much. Her Skill hadn't even worked, and without that she might as well be dead weight.
But still… at least she was fun to talk with.
Oh well. That just leaves more for him to kill himself. Maybe there'd be enough to literally bathe in the blood next time. The closest he'd gotten to that was during his summoning, and his mind had been a bit too preoccupied at the time to properly savor the moment.
Damn. Now he's reminiscing. Here he is, dead bored waiting for something, anything to happen-
Thump.
There's something interesting. It's the sound of some has-been Templar knight's body hitting the ground behind him.
"C- CAPTAIN!!"
Guess it was the captain. Too bad.
Shogo smirks, turning and walking back to the end of the small cliff overlooking Tempest's outward road that their camp is stationed on.
"Looks like they're here, huh?"
All around him, the garrison camp bursts to life.
"Enemy attack! Ranged attackers from the east!"
"Form up! Magic squadron, activate enchantments! Strengthen our frontline!"
"Front scout, quickly! What's the enemy's status!"
It's only this last yell that Shogo pays any attention to. He darts over, appearing next to the telescope-bearing, horse-riding scout in a blur.
"Confirmed!" The scout yells to all. "Enemies approaching from the east! Their numbers are- what?"
Soon enough, Shogo's sharp eyes widen, as if in confirmation of the scout's next exclamation.
"They number only… four?!"
Down below, the stone-faced foursome approaches the inclined roadside.
"This is a declaration of war." Atop his companion tempest wolf, Gobta's expression can only be described as thunderous. He lowers his smoking sheath, dismissing the remnants of black flame inside. The quick snipe of their foes' captain had only been a warning shot, after all.
Adorned in similar furred gear as their normal wear, Rigur pulls up beside him riding his own wolf. The other two with him, Geld and Hakurou, walk at a calm pace that does not match the darkness in their eyes. The former tightens his grip on the massive magisteel cleaver and shield in either hand, and the latter simply leaves his weaponless hands at his sides, black fingernails glinting.
None of them, it seems, are in a good mood. With good reason.
Say it again. There is no mercy left to be found.
Tempest's counterattack only begins here. The vanguard before apocalypse, before the Awakening yet to come.
Their opponents, pathetically, have not realized they are already dead. They still make a passing effort at breathing in the last air of their last day.
"Alright!" This is shouted, and in the same instant, Shogo leaps down the cliff to meet them.
Right as Gobta and Rigur rush up the cliffs around him, ignoring him entirely.
The Otherworlder ignores them right back, even as Gobta calls, "Geld! That's the one who nearly got Shion!"
"Understood." Geld says to himself, standing like a pillar in the center of the road. Beside him, Hakurou chuckles.
"I'll leave him to you." The old Kijin disappears in a blink, likely following after Gobta and Rigur.
Geld nods, his response once more known only to himself. As Shogo lands a short distance away, he stabs his cleaver into the road and reaches up, adjusting his helmet and one of the straps of his nearly full body armor. Then, he grabs his cleaver's handle and hefts it once more.
"It seems that I shall be the one to put you down."
"Heh." Shogo smirks, clenching his hands into fists. "Tough luck with that."
-
"So. You're still alive, ghoul."
"Hohoho. I do think that's my line." Hakurou closes his eyes and smiles. "It seems one of my apprentices left quite the mark on you."
Kyoya's jaw tightens, tugging slightly at the aforementioned mark. His good eye glows a sinister hue, and his muscles tense, the runes along his reverse-grip held sword flickering at intermittent intervals.
"You should have stayed home old man."
"Oh? Genial I may appear, but-"
Kyoya blurs from normal sight, stabbing through Hakurou's skull-
Or at least, he would if Hakurou were still there.
"Huh?" His good eye widens.
"-I do, in fact, hate losing."
The voice comes from well behind him. Kyoya turns in disbelief, and the feeling only multiplies as the old Kijin pays no further attention to him, instead looking around before entering a seemingly random tent.
"…huh?"
Hakurou exits the tent – actually, it's not a random tent Kyoya's mind helpfully supplies, connecting it with a certain someone – a moment later, holding-
Huh???
"You see, my original blade is still buried in the rubble somewhere, and there just hasn't been the time to find it." Hakurou hefts the pitch-black blade and rests it over one shoulder, the silver-wrapped handle and cross guard practically glimmering under the sunlight. "The weight and length are a bit more than I'm used to, but those concerns are unnecessary against such a second-rate opponent."
That snaps Kyoya from his bemusement, just enough for him to finally notice something different about the old man.
In the middle of Hakurou's forehead, the skin has split vertically, revealing a glowing third eye.
"Oh?" Hakurou notices him looking. "Are you curious? This is my own Heavenly Eye. Perhaps, give or take 900 years, you could advance to this level. Even a second-rate novice such as yourself might be able to do so… triple the time it took me, as I said."
Kyoya Tachibana is the most dangerous of his Otherworlder companions. Or at least, this is what he thinks.
The Unique Skill, Severer, which creates blades of the Spatial attribute that can be swapped with his ordinary sword, and thus prevents wounds inflicted by Kyoya from healing by ordinary means. The Extra Skill, All-Seeing Eye, which enhances one's vision to all around them and forces an instinctive reaction time well-beyond human levels. And finally, the Extra Skill, Thought Acceleration, which can increase the speed of his thought processes up to 300 times faster than normal.
This, combined with his own personal training and a slightly above average intelligence, makes Hakurou's words all the more insulting.
Second-rate…? You're just like her! That's right, the one who gave me this scar… your apprentice, huh? Then I'll show you right now! I'll show the both of you!
Kyoya says nothing before he charges, attacking with everything in him. All three of his Skills are operating at max capacity, and a dark blue miasmic glow surrounds him and his sword, leaving thick magical residue in the air with each slash.
I'll become the greatest swordman in this world! Me! Every waking moment since she marked me, I've image trained with Thought Acceleration, studied my own energy with All-Seeing Eye. In mere days, I'll be unstoppable! In fact, perhaps I should thank you!
Hakurou ducks once, dodges back, sidesteps. His expression never shifts.
I've thought too much about that defeat. I'm different now! If I were to go all out, I know for a fact that I could surpass even that arrogant bitch, Hinata Sakaguchi-!!!
"It's over."
Of course, it's a simple fact. His Skills, enhancing as they may be, are nothing compared to someone with much greater skill or much greater power. Tanya, fitting the latter, gave him a scar and removed him from battle. Hakurou, fitting the former, strikes similarly.
Hakurou steps past him, feinting low at a pace Kyoya can catch. All-Seeing Eye forces him to react, and then-
A blur of black magisteel that All-Seeing Eye and Thought Acceleration together can't even make out.
The same story. It's inevitable for a style and skillset that is fundamentally weak to feints and power gaps.
"Huh?" Kyoya's good eye widens. All sensation below his neck simply… disappears.
Too bad. Such a short period of time makes it impossible for this individual to change in any meaningful way. He should have spent the time since their attack repenting for his actions.
"The only reason you caught me before was because of shock. Nothing more." Hakurou reaches out with his free hand, catching Kyoya's severed head by the hair. "All me to give you some advice. Someone who relies on Skills alone will never make it in this world."
Skills…? What? Kyoya's headless body falls to the dirt. Thought Acceleration… isn't wearing off?
"You attack not in defense, but in order to hurt. You believe in power and ability overall. Well, unfortunately for you, your power and ability are lacking. My apprentices surpassed your paltry ability in mere weeks."
It… hurts…!!!
Hakurou calmly meets Kyoya's tortured gaze. This is the end.
"You have talent. And yet, I spoke the truth: you were less than second-rate. What does that say about your life, young man? With the time you have left, contemplate this fact and beg for a forgiveness that will not come."
-
BOOM!
Shogo jumps back, a shield bash from Geld crushing the ground where he'd just been. Neither fighter appears tired; rather, this battle is just beginning.
It should be, but one of them is unaware of the truth. This battle was over days ago.
"Damn!" He spits off to the side, shaking out his hands. "The hell is that thing made of…?"
Across from him, Geld hefts his spade-shaped shield, one of several forged from the leftover scales of Charybdis. He remains still.
"Oi! Pig-face! Ain't you ashamed of using something like that!"
Geld says nothing for a moment. "What?"
"I'm over here working my ass off with just my fists, meanwhile you're cowering behind that shield and armor! If you're a real warrior, fight me on my own turf!"
"…why would I do that? This is war. A true warrior fights with everything they have available. Are you a child?"
"Hah?" Shogo loads his weight on his back leg. "Here I am asking you to play fair, and now you're insulting me? Forget it! I'll show you what I mean personally!"
His aura explodes from deep within him. Now, he activates his own Unique Skill, Berserker. Simply put, it grants the user power and durability, alongside granting a certain level of energy absorption upon defeating a foe. It is an excellent companion to accompany such a bloodthirsty nature.
Shogo lunges, blurring across the pavement and slamming his foot into Geld's shield.
"By the way!" He yells over the shockwave of the impact, before spinning and kicking again. "I was just kidding!"
Geld crouches, his boots digging into the road from the back-to-back force. Then, he shoves the other back, right as his shield shatters and falls away.
Shogo lands a few feet away once more, then stands up straight. "Heh. I was just hoping you'd throw away that shield willingly, but I'm not against shattering it myself."
"…I see. It's not that you were acting childishly because you are a child, but instead you intended for me to lower my guard. A simple trick, yet effective against the correct opponent."
"And you fell for it, hook line and sinker!" Shogo smirks, holding his arms out to either side.
"Not so."
"Huh?"
"You misunderstand. I am not the correct opponent for such a trick." Geld stands up straight and, hefting his cleaver in his right hand, points at Shogo. "Indeed, you are the one in this scenario who has been tricked."
"The hell are you- GAH!" Shogo collapses to one knee. With shaking hands, he peels back the sleeves of his jacket, revealing the disgusting, painful truth underneath.
"Corrosion, or perhaps here we may refer to here it as Rot." A sub-skill of his own Unique Skill, Gourmet, which Geld received upon being named after his predecessor, aka the Orc Lord turned Demon Lord Seed Orc Disaster. "Your physical power is indeed noteworthy, but nothing I have not seen in a human before. And, unlike her, it seems you lack any resistances or immunities. An unfortunate weakness against one such as me."
Down on both knees now, Shogo vomits. The skin of his arms falls away in green-tinted flakes, revealing the muscles fibers underneath. Underneath his pants, the same occurs to his legs.
"The areas you struck me with will go most quickly. A shame. If you had gone for a headbutt, perhaps your suffering would end quicker."
"Y- you bastard!!" Shogo glares up at him, sweat pouring down his face and blood splotching the road. "Cheating, pig-faced-"
"Are you not done yet, Geld?"
Hakurou lands at Geld's side, having hopped down from short cliff next to them. Before Geld can answer him, however, Shogo does.
"Y- you! Geezer, where the hell is that smug-faced bastard?!"
"Hoh?" Hakurou turns, revealing the oddly shaped object in hand that his body had been concealing. "If you mean your friend, then I have him right here."
He tosses the odd object Shogo's way.
It rolls to a stop. Shogo looks.
"I-"
More and more, blood trickles down, staining the ground.
Kyoya's lifeless head meets his gaze.
No… no, this can't…
In another timeline, Shogo would scramble to his feet, escape back into the camp, and recover. Through desperate, despicable means, he would receive the ailment to his wounds via the Unique Skill, Survivor.
In this timeline, he has no opportunity to kill his fellow Otherworlder, Kirara Mizutani, and thus acquire such a Skill. For you see, Kirara never returned to camp.
"Please… someone, please… save me…"
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A deep shadow is cast over the cowering Otherworlder.
"I have no desire to torture you." Looming, Geld raises his cleaver. "I relieve you of your pain."
"No… no!" Shogo looks up, desperate. His right arm begins to fall off at the elbow, revealing bone under rotting flesh. "No, please! PLEASE, SOMEONE SAVE-!!"
CRASH!
"-ME… huh?"
"Are you the only one left, Shogo?"
Next to Shogo's kneeling form stands someone who could only be called a sorcerer. Old and wrinkled, with swept back short grey hair, Falmuth's Chief Sorcerer Razen extends his staff, blocking Geld's block with a wall of crackling magical energy.
Geld backs away, Hakurou steps forward next to him, the recovered sword Seizon ready at his side.
"Ra- razen…" Shogo's breath hitches, the rot visible underneath his shirt collar. "You saved me…"
"Of course, Shogo. You are an important asset to- oh." This last part is stated as Shogo collapses, the majority of his right arm fully rotting away. His left is in nearly the same state, Razen notes with a raised eyebrow.
With a casual gesture of his staff, the rot along Shogo's body fades, but doesn't disappear. His eyebrow rises higher. Razen gestures again, this time putting much more power into his Restoration Magic.
"…his body is an important asset to Falmuth." Razen says, looking over Geld and Hakurou with a new light, literally, to his eyes. Shogo collapses wordlessly beside him, healed and yet missing an arm. "I see. It seems our intelligence vastly underestimated the strength of you monsters. First, a humanoid type managing to repel the majority of our ambush, and now a Kijin and an Orc Lord… I can see now that, in this specific circumstance, we are outmatched. Shogo and I will retreat for now."
Geld makes to rush forward. "I won't let you-"
"GELD, STOP!"
Hakurou yells out just in time. Geld yanks himself to a halt, and the ground in front of them explodes. Armored forearms crossed in front of his face, Geld skids backward just enough to end up right back where he started, next to Hakurou.
"Kekekeke!" As the dust clears, the two of them can see Razen grinning. "You're sharp for one so old. That experience makes you rather dangerous, wouldn't you say?"
"That's insulting coming from a decrepit geezer like yourself." The third eye in Hakurou's forehead glimmers. Lowering his voice, he tells Geld, "A trap spell layered underneath his barrier from earlier. And he's rigged himself to blow up with Nuclear Magic, so there's no point in engaging further."
"Understood."
"Well now, what are you whispering over there!" Razen shakes his head, amused. "No matter. As I said, Shogo and I will be retreating now. Assuming you don't die of old age, feel free to meet me again on the upcoming battlefield-"
"This will be our only meeting." Hakurou interjects, resting Seizon's blade against his shoulder. "The place you're heading to will be little more than a graveyard soon. Our Lord will meet you there personally."
"What a dour bluff. I'm afraid you're grasping for straws, aren't you?"
"It is no bluff." Geld responds. He too relaxes his stance. "You have made a terrible mistake taking one of our own. You have enraged individuals who should never be enraged. You may only pray our Lord ends your suffering quickly."
"Indeed." Hakurou chuckles, imagining for a second Shuna and Mary meeting this man and his pet Otherworlder. "I imagine, even if you couldsomehow survive our Lord, that you would soon wish to have died anyway."
Razen looks pensive for all of a second. Then, he shrugs it off.
"Your confidence is impressive, if unfounded. But I will take your warning into consideration anyway." He taps the ground with the end of his staff, a purplish black swirl overtaking him and Shogo. "Farewell!"
The duo vanishes, unknowingly teleporting directly to their own doom.
Hakurou shrugs, then turns to face the cliffside sporting their enemy's camp.
"They are fools." Geld says, echoing the other's thoughts.
"Indeed, but they are out of our hands now."
Atop the cliff and atop their tempest wolves, Gobta and Rigur reappear covered in blood.
Not their own blood, needless to say.
"The crystal's been destroyed!" Gobta yells.
Hakurou and Geld nod.
Their job is over now. All that's left now is for the main show to begin.
--
Over Tempest were three barriers.
One of which was an Anti-Magic Area cast by Mjurran on the orders of the Demon Lord Clayman. Its effects have been well documented thus far. The second barrier, meanwhile, was the Prison Field deployed by Falmuth's Templar knights. A Holy Magic field using four crystal conduits stationed at each cardinal direction as a foundation, it was designed to weaken magical beings via Holy energy.
It is worth noting for future reference that "Holy" and "Divine" energy are two separate things.
In any case, with the four crystal conduits destroyed, the Prison Field over Tempest has now fallen. And, at the same time as it falls, another barrier replaces it inside of Mjurran's Anti-Magic Area.
This is the rough order of events:
After hearing Eren's tale, Rimuru casts a barrier of his own over Tempest, beyond the Anti-Magic Area but underneath the Prison Field -> Shuna delivers her ultimatum -> Rimuru offers to watch over Tanya's body, with "his own life, if need be" -> Mary and Shuna track down and defeat Drake -> The counterattack against Falmuth's forces is planned in full -> Four teams are sent out to destroy the Prison Field weakening everyone inside Tempest -> Mjurran and Shuna take control and bolster the power of Anti-Magic Area and Rimuru's barrier respectively, with Mary, Eren, Gido, Kabal, Youm, and Grucius acting as guards -> the current event right now, being Rimuru's own counterattack.
And, following that, his ascension to True Demon Lord.
I don't know if this world has gods. In two years, it's never really crossed my mind.
Over hills and between the sparse trees designating the edge of the Great Forest of Jura, a sprawling encampment bustles with activity. Groups of tents of similar sizes stand together at various points, with a great number of armored soldiers and robed mages walking between them.
Like ants.
10,000 against 1. If I'm going to do this, I'm killing more than 10,000 people… no, that's wrong. It's actually just over 20,000. I'll be killing double what I need.
In the sky above, convex half-spheres of water form from nothing. One after another, they blip into existence, until they number too many to count.
With or without gods, killing that many people… you'd almost have to call it divine retribution. Ha. The wrath of God? What right do I have to claim that? What right do they have to attack in the first place?
Rimuru stares at the inside of his mask, formerly Shizu's. Idly, he tilts his head, listening as Great Sage continues to calculate in the background.
In lieu of any gods, I'll take their place right here and now.
Great Sage finishes her calculations. The half-spheres of water fill the sky above him.
Let's see… these guys, they believe in the God Luminous right? But in Jura, the highest authority probably falls to Veldora, as the Storm Dragon. Therefore...
He places the mask over his face. The half-spheres drip, spherical droplets falling to float amidst the camp itself. More droplets form and remain hovering underneath the convex constructs.
...feel free to direct any prayers for mercy to me. So I know who to kill first.
"At the very least," Rimuru raises his hand high, fingers outstretched wide like a claw ready to carve. Down below, the expanse of soldiers and tents appears naught but ants and ant hills to crush underneath his feet. "You all should feel honored to have a part in my evolution."
A short pause, as if reflecting. It is the recognition that everything will change.
He bends, slashing his hand violently down.
"MEGIDDO!"
-Z-
Afternoon
Kruskos Army Air Corps Testing Lab
Germanian Empire
"That should be the… second to last one."
Wiping the sweat away from her forehead, Tanya steps back from the newly decorated desk, slotting a combat knife into her belt.
According to Visha, this office space was primarily used by- well, used by the 203rd, during the early stages of the project. The warehouse the office is inside of also served as sortie point for drills and announcements, with a large opening on one end leading out to the numerous flight-testing fields.
"You planned for five of… these?" Visha can't help but tilt her head looking at the dizzying array of interlocking circles, numbers, and symbols. To her, lacking any knowledge of the subject, Tanya might as well have spent the past hour and a half drawing a demonic summoning circle. That, or a faux language from a fantasy book of some kind.
"I planned for seven of them, for symbolic reasons. But the energy requirement to establish them atop an unfamiliar 4th dimension andsuitably cloak them from a certain overseer's sight, atop of my own physio-spiritual problems… I'm settling for five."
Tanya crouches back down, opening one of the desk's drawers and rifling through it. As a result, she doesn't notice Visha jerkily, almost unwillingly, raising a hand and brushing her fingers over the top of the desk.
"Adjusting for mana instead of magicules is trouble, too, and not to mention after all of that and settling for less than is ideal, it's a serious stretch of my improvisational- ah, there we go."
She pulls out a pair of full-to-burst manila folders. One in each hand, Tanya stands and tilts them until the papers inside fall across the desk in a disorganized array, covering the far more organized runic array carved into the desk's surface.
At Visha's questioning look, Tanya shrugs.
"They'll be useless to anyone that isn't me. Still, just in case." She drops the folders back in the sectioned drawer and slides it shut with her booted foot, before beginning to make her way around to Visha's side of the desk. "The papers should catch fire. Which sucks for whoever works here, but- whoa."
Despite not having activated the runes and expended any extra energy, Tanya stumbles.
Suddenly, Visha is there, grabbing hold of her shoulders and keeping her upright.
"Tanya? You okay?" There's a deeper urgency to that question than the words alone imply.
Her concern is admirable, and more than a bit heartwarming, but Tanya's too busy keeping down her lunch from the sudden bout of mind-body-soul dissonance-induced nausea.
"Tanya?"
"I can't do much more." Tanya takes a steadying breath and rights herself. "I- we can't wait. Let's move."
There's not much talk between them as they leave the office for the warehouse, locking the door behind them. The walk through the warehouse itself to the outside is similar.
Visha, perhaps, lingers a bit closer to Tanya than before. Out of a renewed concern of her collapsing, of her disappearing, or both, she won't admit. And Tanya doesn't mind or speak against it, even if she finds it disagreeable to be perceived with the descriptor "fragile".
After their little – embarrassing as the phrase is – "heart-to-heart" earlier, Tanya moved up the timeline for her plans. Visha explained as much as she could, and none of it was good to hear.
There's no point staying here anymore.
Hence her current actions, the full explanation of which would go over the heads of most, relying on an extensive knowledge of several different systems of magic.
But for now, she'd told Visha to imagine the intent of what she is constructing in terms of a dual accumulator-discharger type array. Additionally, it should be understood that there is a certain element of location involved in the process.
Xerxes could never claim a spot on Tanya's list of favorite locations, but it certainly paid for its sins several times over by now purely through its lingering usefulness. A much more expansive knowledge of this somewhat ritualistic stye of magic is one such example, feeding the ability to know where and how to set up this gamble in the first place.
The point is that location matters. As do numbers, and the symbolism behind the actions being performed, and the energy underlying the entire system… just in case you were wondering exactly how many factors Tanya has to consider on top of every other difficult surrounding her current plan of action, aka wagering her own plans against those of the local deity himself.
No pressure.
"The last one is the most important." Tanya says, breathing in and out at an even, measured pace. There's a faint buzzing in the back of her mind, an instinctual warning or fear that something is wrong. Which, naturally, she pays the required amount of attention to with experienced ease.
Yeah, okay, everything is wrong; she already knows that. "Where I arrived."
"And where you'll… leave?" There's an odd pause in there, with a decidedly strange tone.
"Yes. You know the truth as well as, maybe better than I do. There's nothing left for me here."
Straight to the point, and not hiding her intention. That's something worth appreciating, even if the truth may be brutal.
Visha looks to the side, not acknowledging the flare of hurt and something else in her chest.
It's not like she hadn't suspected it. Tanya hadn't explained everything, but she'd implied enough. This experience, this reunion, it was only ever temporary.
She knew that. They always separate at the end. There's no such thing as a perfect reunion.
"And, if all goes well, where you will as well."
"Huh?" Visha blinks. She lifts her head to face her former superior, eyes wide as they take in a familiar half-smile. Something dark lurks under her bemusement. "Where I'll…?"
"I'm not sure if I should be insulted or not. Yes, where you'll leave as well." Tanya rolls her eyes, then bumps their shoulders together. "It's not a guarantee by any means. You understand? I can't promise it. I'm gambling enough with my own soul here. But honestly, after everything you told me, did you really think I'd be willing to leave you behind?"
"I- no, of course not, but I-"
Visha would admit it all right here, if her internal landscape were anything less than a great turmoil. There's a sinking weight in her gut, a sickening bile burning in the back of her throat.
Grantz, Neumann, Koenig, Weiss, Zettour… for some stupid reason, she'd thought that telling Tanya about them would somehow dissuade her former superior. That Tanya would act with the callousness she was always capable and fond of, and prioritize herself.
No, Visha hadn't just thought that; she'd hoped it would be enough.
Because Tanya was righter than she could possibly know. There's truly nothing left for her here.
It's too late. No matter what happens, you have to be the one to survive.
If Tanya knew about what happened to them, and about what happened to General Zettour, she'd make the most logical decision. Dammit, can't you see what HE has done to us, to me?
Can you not see it?! Can't you see what he'll do to you, too?
But this goes beyond survival or self-preservation. This is enemy action, intentional aggression; against an opponent they have no possible chance against, this is, for all intents and purposes, a declaration of war against a deity-
"Visha." Tanya gives her a look. The aforementioned woman's mouth snaps shut, her pessimistic line of thought drying up. Just like that. As if there's a chance of anything else.
And, despite herself, despite her fear, Visha smiles. Because she recognizes that look. It's something she and her comrades recounted fondly among one another many a time, because they knew.
They knew, whenever Tanya von Degurechaff got that look in her eye…
"Do you trust me?"
"With my life." Is the immediate answer. Even after all this time, after everything that's happened.
Tanya smiles, and looks forward.
"Good."
It isn't.
Oh god… Visha's smile falters.
She only hopes Tanya will forgive her for being so weak.
-
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone