The duel between
Since the generals themselves were clashing, the command structures of their respective legions had completely broken down, plunging everything into chaos.
But none of that mattered to the two combatants — they had acknowledged each other as worthy rivals, and they were savoring every moment of the fight.
"Kukakakaka! Quite the skill you've got! I salute you, sir! To think I could cross blades with someone of your caliber — it is an honor for any warrior!"
"It isn't my own skill. These arms and armor were bestowed upon me by my lord, Master Rimuru. With my previous equipment, I would have been unable to withstand your sword pressure and would have already been defeated."
Albert calmly deflected Glasard's praise.
It was the truth, of course — but the ability to bring out the full performance of mythological-grade equipment was entirely due to Albert's own prowess.
"Hmph! There's no need for modesty. Among the giant race, there are precious few who can match me blow for blow. My original plan was to sandwich Luminas's forces together with the angels, but — things rarely go as planned, eh? Still, slaying one of the enemy commanders is an important duty in its own right. More than enough for me! But still... my brother Fen really drew the short straw on this one. He gets the chance for a grand rampage, and his opponent is some feeble mage. His knowledge is certainly remarkable, and as a person he was a likable enough fellow, but... as long as we possess the 'Magic Nullification' ability, a mage simply won't cut it."
He swung his two-handed greatsword overhead as he bellowed.
It was a calculated provocation, aimed at making Albert worry about his lord and lose his focus. A single moment of hesitation could mean instant death — and inducing mental instability was a perfectly legitimate tactic.
Albert, however, didn't so much as flinch.
"I think you're mistaken about something. It's true that I serve as Lady Adalman's bodyguard and take the front line. However — please don't forget this: Lady Adalman, one of Master Rimuru's Twelve Guardian Kings, is stronger than I am! I trust you understand what that means?"
He flatly denied Glasard's words.
Glasard let out a soft "Oh?" and raised one eyebrow.
But he said nothing further, settling into a high guard with his sword. His psychological ploy had failed — so be it. He would simply overpower Albert head-on. Glasard, ever straightforward in his thinking, reached that conclusion without hesitation.
"Heh heh heh, is that so? Then Fen had better enjoy himself while he can. Now then — I shall fulfill my duty as well!"
And so the fierce clash of swords resumed once more.
The battle grew increasingly heated, and before long both combatants had abandoned all awareness of their surroundings, focusing entirely on their blades.
Adalman was slammed into the ground, his consciousness flickering for an instant.
He understood exactly what had happened. He'd seen the enemy close in the moment his spell activation window opened.
He had prioritized the chanting of his grand magic — magic that could turn the tide of this battle.
It was possible to cast spells without chanting, but only for ones he was thoroughly familiar with. The grand magic he was attempting now required careful assessment of the battlefield to be deployed at maximum effectiveness.
There was also the fact that he had recovered a substantial amount of Magicules through his earlier consecutive Extreme Magic casts, and he wanted to put those reserves to productive use.
For all these reasons, he'd refused to interrupt his chanting — he found the idea distasteful — and chose to prioritize the spell's activation.
Of course, he'd only made that choice because he was confident in his physical defenses against melee attacks...
But it turned out the enemy's capabilities exceeded even Adalman's predictions.
Every layer of his Multi-Barrier was pierced, and only a single defensive measure managed to activate. Without that last line of defense, Adalman could have suffered a fatal blow in a single strike.
It was an odd thing to say about someone already dead, but — to receive fatal damage yet again...
(What!? The enemy's attacks went straight through all of my magical barriers!? Does that mean his ability really is 'Magic Nullification'!?)
In an instant, Adalman arrived at the correct answer.
It helped that
If that was the case, then preparing non-magical defenses had been the right call after all.
(Well, it doesn't matter. My Magicules will be depleted by this spell anyway. 'Magic Nullification' or whatever — it's irrelevant now! If anything, this works in my favor.)
In any case, though "unscathed" was a stretch, the plan had succeeded.
Adalman's grand magic — the one he'd been chanting — activated successfully.
The spell was: Create Undead Army.
An ultimate-class magic with wide-area effects, one of the most powerful spells in existence.
It was the forbidden pinnacle of necromancy — the very art that had given his legion its name — converting the dead into obedient soldiers.
It reanimated the corpses of everyone killed on this battlefield, friend or foe alike, transforming them into undead soldiers bound to Adalman's commands.
Giants had remarkable regenerative powers and rarely died. Minor injuries healed on their own, so they had to be destroyed completely and utterly.
That meant he'd needed to wait for corpses to accumulate on the battlefield — watching and waiting for the right moment to cast.
All that concentration, all that chanting, had been for this purpose.
A massive magic circle materialized between heaven and earth. The giant corpses scattered across the ground began drawing together, clumping into several large masses.
From those lumps of flesh, limbs sprouted — and undead giants roughly four meters tall rose to their feet.
They were larger even than Death Knights — Undead Giants, reanimated corpses of the fallen.
Their combat power far surpassed what they'd possessed in life. It wasn't just the Physical Body that composed them — the souls of fallen comrades had been gathered and fused together, resulting in enormous Magicule content.
They even retained the self-repair ability that should have been lost upon death.
Reborn as A-Rank-plus monsters that exceeded even Death Knights in power.
Many corpses had been too degraded to be fully utilized, so only about one thousand Undead Giants had been created — but that would suffice.
The newly born Undead Giants turned upon the giants who had once been their comrades.
Adalman, who had already depleted even the Magicules needed to cast Light of Recovery, rose to his feet as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
He cast a brief glance at the rampaging Undead Giants, confirmed they were active, then turned his attention toward Fen, who was tearing through his own forces.
"
"Yes, I let my guard down —"
Venti had shrunk into a humanoid form and answered Adalman's question in a quiet voice.
She had taken serious damage, true, but the moment she shifted into her humanoid shape, her recovery had already completed.
It could only be used once per day, but her Super Recovery — triggered by altering her physical composition — had activated.
"No, no, it wasn't a matter of letting your guard down. That diminutive giant is simply powerful. I'm glad you're safe. From what I can see, that giant is an abnormal concentration of energy. And rather politely, it's of the holy attribute — so naturally, magic is completely ineffective against it. Had we not also been of the holy attribute, we would have been purified on contact."
Adalman calmly reported the facts as he understood them. True to his nature as a mage, his gaze toward Fen held the detachment of a researcher.
(Still, even so — that giant is far too powerful.)
Combat speed, destructive power, and defensive capability — it excelled in all categories. In terms of raw energy alone, it rivaled the dragon species.
Even hurling a Colossal Bone Warrior at it would accomplish nothing but getting crushed.
"Well, well. It seems it's time for my long-refined Physical Body to finally see some action."
"Huh?"
Adalman's incomprehensible remark drew a bewildered response from Venti — the undead dragon who had sworn loyalty to Adalman and remained faithfully at his side.
Physical Body? Adalman had no flesh. He was, for all intents and purposes, nothing but a skeleton.
As if answering Venti's unspoken doubt:
"I don't believe I've mentioned it before. I held the position of Grand Bishop, but that wasn't my true vocation. My original class is Sacred Fist Instructor — a higher-tier occupation combining monk and martial artist. With Albert, an excellent front-liner, present, there was simply never any need for me to engage in close combat. When I fought you, you weren't in humanoid form, so I didn't see much point in displaying my techniques, and the opportunity never arose."
"E-even so... you don't mean you intend to face that giant with your bare hands?"
"Is there a problem?"
Well, yes, there were quite a few problems — Venti thought this but couldn't quite articulate it.
Despite their long association, she had never once seen Adalman training his Physical Body. Whether it was even possible to train a skeleton was a question she didn't know how to ask.
"No, nothing at all..."
That was all Venti could say.
(Adalman may seem intellectual and composed, but underneath — )
She cut that thought short and turned her gaze toward the berserking Fen.
"Very well. Then allow me to relay the plan. Magic appears to be ineffective, so we'll have to resort to physical attacks. It's the only option. Your breath weapon also draws upon Magicules, so it would likely be classified as magic as well. That means the two of us — with no means of attack — are at a severe disadvantage. Therefore, I propose the following."
The strategy Adalman laid out was something Venti could never have imagined.
But she trusted Adalman completely, and agreed without hesitation.
"I leave it in your hands, Adalman. May fortune favor you!"
With those words, she relaxed her body completely.
Adalman's proposed strategy was possession — fusion through spiritual inhabitation.
As an undead, Adalman was already extremely close to being a spiritual life-form. In a sense, he was already possessing his own corpse — his skeleton. The reason was simple: to exert influence upon the physical world, he required a temporary body.
Therefore, performing possession was trivially easy for him. As long as Venti didn't resist, success was guaranteed.
The only issue was whether they could separate afterward.
"Rest assured. Even if I possess you, your consciousness will not vanish. In the worst case, we'll simply ask Master Rimuru to prepare a new body for you!"
And so Adalman possessed Venti.
The undead dragon's formidable magical power and Magicule reserves, combined with her tough Physical Body — and layered on top of that, Adalman merged his own magical power.
The possession succeeded. In Venti's place now stood a young man with black hair, clad in jet-black priestly vestments.
"Hmm, it's a success."
(As expected of Lord Adalman!)
The two had become one.
They had become the youthful form of "Undead King" Adalman — possessing a powerful Physical Body and vast magical power — differing only slightly in details like hair color.
(My, it's been a while since I felt this exhilarated. In this state, perhaps I could even put up a good fight against Lord
He recalled the comrades he once couldn't so much as exchange blows with back when he was nothing but a skeleton.
A fearless grin spread across his face as he launched himself toward the rampaging giant.
Even in this state, he didn't believe he could defeat that giant. But buying time was certainly possible.
And fortunately, while the giant was the embodiment of violence, it didn't appear to possess the same level of refined skill as the one currently battling Albert. It had energy rivaling the dragon species, but its rationality seemed entirely absent — it simply raged without purpose.
It had targeted Adalman first simply because he'd had the highest energy reading in the group.
(If I play this right, I might be able to take it down.)
(With Adalman at the helm, of course that's possible!)
His thoughts were answered directly, and though Adalman was mildly startled, he nodded in agreement.
(Indeed, that's exactly right! I am one of Master Rimuru's strongest subordinates!)
Laughing with obvious enjoyment, he charged straight at the rampaging Fen.
---
The "Seven Celestial Sages" had completed their reconnaissance mission and reported their findings to Demon Lord Luminas.
Afterward, they had accompanied her to the outer perimeter where the giants were being confronted.
There, they encountered an astonishing series of events.
First — a knight existed who could fight evenly against Glasard, the one called the strongest Sword King.
Second — Demon Lord Luminas's attacks, their beloved master's assault, had proven entirely ineffective against Demon Lord
And third — a man with a familiar face, one they were certain they had seen before, had engaged the berserking giant in equally matched combat.
These three things had occurred almost simultaneously.
"What is going on?! What in the world is happening!?"
"A knight who fights the Sword King to a standstill — who is that man!?"
"This is bad! At this rate, Lady Luminas will be defeated!!"
"Wait, hold on — that person, could it be —"
"It's Adalman! Isn't that Adalman himself!?"
"Impossible!? Then that knight must be Albert!!!"
"But those two are subordinates of Demon Lord Rimuru!? What kind of joke is this!?"
Thinking in unison, the "Seven Celestial Sages" exchanged the information each had gathered.
And upon sharing that information simultaneously, they were engulfed in shock.
Back in their day, Adalman and Albert had been renowned figures.
Adalman — the prodigious wielder of sacred magic, the Grand Bishop.
Albert — the Holy Knight, widely considered the strongest in the order's history.
Together, both had possessed the qualifications to be heroes. Yet the egg of heroism never took root within them.
Instead, they had simply ascended to the Sage level by their own merits. And they'd been on the verge of becoming Saints.
If they weren't heroes, they were of no use to the "Seven Celestial Sages." And they had been far too talented.
They had even resisted Luminas's mental domination, choosing not to reside in the Holy Capital but rather to serve the Holy Church of the Ingracia Kingdom.
In other words, from the perspective of the "Seven Celestial Sages," they had been a double-edged sword.
They had the power to threaten the Sages themselves, and if left unchecked, could potentially destabilize their very positions.
Though the two showed no awareness of Luminas's true identity, they clearly harbored certain suspicions.
Despite acknowledging their strength, the two refused to become allies — so the "Seven Celestial Sages," playing the role of the Pope, had issued orders for them to purify a massive undead catastrophe.
It was an indirect assassination request, and the pair — with their strong sense of justice — had taken the bait beautifully.
They had accepted willingly and set out for the Great Forest of Jura.
There, they were supposed to have perished in a mutual defeat against the
"To think they were still alive..."
That was the shared thought running through all of the "Seven Celestial Sages."
"So — what do we do now? That is the question."
"At this point, defeating Adalman or Albert would be extraordinarily difficult."
"And this situation hardly leaves us the luxury of squabbling among ourselves."
"Indeed..."
"If those two can trade blows with the giant and come out even, that's the best we could hope for. If they lose, we won't be unscathed either."
"Correct. Our duty is simply to protect Her Ladyship."
"Agreed. As for those two — we'll deal with that matter after we've survived this."
The "Seven Celestial Sages" settled on their course of action.
There was no room for petty scheming — the situation was dire.
As per their original plan, they would cast aside personal grudges and shift to guerrilla tactics.
They too would spring into action, fighting to protect the Demon Lord they revered — Luminas.