Lizardman Tribe The chief was desperately trying to hold back the orc soldiers who kept coming in an endless, relentless assault.
He had divided his forces across the four passages ahead, assigning units to each one.
The passages weren't especially wide, which was a blessing—it limited how many enemies they had to face at once.
When it came to individual combat strength, the Lizardmen held a slight edge over the orc soldiers.
He had evacuated the women and children to the rear of the cavern, placing fighters in front of them.
This was to deal with any enemies that broke through the passages.
The chief observed the battle and realized that at this rate, they wouldn't last a single day.
They were managing by rotating units and recovering during shifts, but even so, the orcs kept inching forward through the gaps in each rotation.
Their current forces had fallen below twelve hundred.
Several units must have been wiped out, since none had managed to link up.
And then an even greater nightmare struck the chief. The orc soldiers were enveloped in a yellowish Demon Aura.
What the hell?
He wondered, but the answer came immediately. Each individual's combat ability had been enhanced.
They hadn't become dramatically stronger overall, but it seemed they had gained abilities effective against Lizardmen.
Until now, the Lizardmen's individual superiority had been the only thing keeping them in the fight. At this point, even that advantage was gone.
Now... their only remaining fate was annihilation.
The chief steeled his resolve.
Running would be pointless. It would only make them suffer, and they'd likely fail anyway.
But still...
"Listen up! The women and children will begin evacuating immediately! Royal Guard, forward!
You will escort the women and children—protect every last one of them!
Giving up is not an option! Seek a new land, and survive—every last one of you!"
He poured every ounce of his dignity into that shout.
"Ch-Chief, what do you intend to do?" the deputy of the Royal Guard asked.
"Isn't it obvious? I won't let those orcs have their way!
I'll show them the true strength of the Lizardmen!"
He could never show weakness.
He was the symbol of Lizardman strength—their beacon of hope.
"Warriors! From this moment on, hold your ground with your lives on the line! Do not let a single orc through!
Buy time for the women and children to escape!"
That was how he rallied the warriors.
There was no despair on the Lizardmen's faces. Even if the enemy had grown stronger, as long as the women and children escaped, it was their victory.
Their future wouldn't end here.
It would be difficult from here on, but their kind would not go extinct.
"Rooooaaarr!"
They raised their own voices, driving out the fear.
The interior of the cavern shook violently with the Lizardmen's war cries.
Satisfied, the chief was about to call out to the women and children to begin their escape when— "That would be a problem, Chief. We haven't fulfilled our agreement yet. You were supposed to wait here, correct?"
A man was standing beside him—he had appeared without anyone noticing.
Dark-tanned skin and blue-black hair. Blue eyes. A demon standing roughly 190 centimeters tall.
The demon who had once met with him and called himself
He had come? No—the alliance hadn't been formally established yet. But still...
"Lord Souei... you came? But we ignored your advice and acted on our own..."
"Advice? What are you talking about? That doesn't matter now.
I would like you all to remain here as you are. The agreement is for tomorrow.
Tomorrow, our master will come here as well."
He was honoring the promise of an alliance? But...
"But right now, we can't—those orcs are—"
With an annoyed expression, Souei glanced at the orc soldiers.
As if they were nothing but a trivial nuisance— "Having those noisy pests around does make it hard to concentrate. Very well. I'll take care of them. Just wait here for a moment."
Saying that, he walked off with composure.
Was it an optical illusion? Souei's body blurred and seemed to overlap—no! It had split into four.
Each clone headed toward a passage, arriving where the Lizardmen were stationed.
"I'll take over."
With that simple statement, each clone faced the orc soldiers in its respective passage.
What followed was an unbelievable sight.
The orc soldiers—the hellish, ghoulish creatures who had been tormenting them—couldn't break through even a single one of Souei's clones.
Standing one to a passage, each unleashed— "String Puppet Slaughter Formation!"
It was a dazzling dance of threads and death.
Steel Threads strung throughout the passage in an instant, moving freely at Souei's will.
The moment that technique was deployed, the orc soldiers' bodies were shredded to pieces.
Starting with those at the front, they were slaughtered without a shred of resistance allowed.
The unlucky ones were the orc soldiers. In each passage, they were cut down by Souei's clones.
Because they had no will of their own and simply followed basic orders, they couldn't even feel fear.
One after another, they charged into the Steel Threads as if throwing themselves at spider's silk—though those threads were terrifying traps that reaped lives in an instant.
They devoured the shredded corpses, advanced further, and were killed.
This scene repeated over and over, and the Lizardmen could only watch in stunned silence.
The labyrinthine battlefield had become Souei's personal stage.
The variety of traps he could deploy was vast, and he adjusted them according to the situation. For him, the orc soldiers were nothing more than targets to be eliminated.
He carried out the slaughter without a hint of mercy, without so much as breaking a sweat.
The Lizardmen were too shocked for words.
They were witnessing strength of an entirely different dimension. It was the embodiment of terror.
It was the sight of someone overwhelmingly superior.
The situation changed about two hours later.
Up until now, the orc soldiers had been advancing mindlessly to their deaths, but suddenly they began retreating.
Had something changed on the battlefield?
Souei sensed it immediately.
The maximum number of clones he could produce simultaneously was six. He had dismissed the first two, so four were currently deployed.
His main body remained hidden in the shadows, controlling the clones.
Everything here was under control. He decided to leave it to them.
Souei's main body slipped away without anyone noticing.
Heading toward his master—Rimuru.
—————— The Pig-Headed Demon Lord had declared himself a Demon Lord. Moreover, he had given himself a name.
Or rather, in this case, it would be more accurate to say he had *taken* one.
For the Pig-Headed Demon Lord, it was simply fulfilling
He had made Gelmud into a Demon Lord, just as the man had wished.
The utmost loyalty of the Orc Disaster, who had possessed no will of his own. Of course, I hadn't been aware of this, nor did it really matter.
Now possessed of a will of his own, with eyes burning with intelligence— the Pig-Headed Demon Lord Gelmud, having declared himself Demon Lord of his own volition, had evolved to a level that made the Orc Disaster look insignificant by comparison.
Behind me,
They must have recognized the Pig-Headed Demon Lord Gelmud as a threat.
The relaxed smiles they'd worn before were gone, replaced by grim expressions.
"Lord Rimuru! I'll handle this!"
With that, Benimaru suddenly unleashed his Black Flame Hell.
I had received his telepathic signal and dodged upward. Good thing I'd kept my wings out.
A black hemisphere formed around the Pig-Headed Demon Lord Gelmud. A superheated storm raged inside, its ferocity attempting to burn the Demon Lord to ashes. But...
A dozen seconds later, the hemisphere dissipated, and there stood the Pig-Headed Demon Lord, completely unfazed.
It wasn't that the attack had no effect. He apparently lacked heat resistance—his skin was burned and mangled.
But it hadn't dealt a fatal blow because he had released Demon Aura and generated heat resistance of his own.
Furthermore, the burned skin had already begun regenerating. Was this the recovery ability Gelmud had possessed?
His amount of Magicules was vastly different from before. He was every bit worthy of calling himself a Demon Lord.
Or rather—was this what the Voice of the World meant by "Demon Lord seed"? If he awakened, he might truly become a Demon Lord.
If I didn't kill him now, he would become a genuine disaster. I was certain of it.
Benimaru grimaced, frustrated that his ultimate attack had been tanked.
True, Black Flame Hell was powerful. But it was a technique designed for groups—too weak against a single target.
It scattered too much energy. Against an individual, the energy needed to be focused far more tightly.
If done properly, he could probably burn through both their defenses and regeneration completely, leaving nothing behind.
The next to move was
Following my example, he concentrated Black Lightning into a single point and fired.
The Pig-Headed Demon Lord Gelmud took the hit head-on and went rigid.
Good aim. I would have done the same.
A focused strike targeting a single individual—the strongest possible blow.
The Pig-Headed Demon Lord, blackened and charred, collapsed on the spot.
Well, obviously. Even I couldn't withstand this attack.
It had taken a group and a surprise attack to bring him down, but I hoped nobody would hold that against me.
None of the Kijin could have won in a one-on-one fight, most likely.
And yet, just when I thought the battle was finally over— "Hahhhhh! So that's what pain feels like! For a moment, I glimpsed death!
But it's not enough to destroy me!"
The Pig-Headed Demon Lord, charred and presumed dead, was getting back up.
Looking closer, he had torn off his own arm and was eating it.
Orc soldiers ran toward the Pig-Headed Demon Lord. He killed them without hesitation and devoured them.
What the hell! With every bite, his charred skin flaked off and new skin grew in its place.
And the arm he had torn off had already regrown from the base!
Truly, his recovery ability was beyond belief.
"You've got to be kidding me..."
The words escaped my lips before I could stop them.
He was such an unreasonable monster that it stopped feeling real.
Ranga appeared to have completely drained his Magicules with that last strike. He was crouched on the ground, unable to move.
He was probably on the verge of entering a low-activity state.
It couldn't be helped. Black Lightning consumed an enormous amount of energy.
He wouldn't be able to fire again.
In a flash— Without anyone noticing,
A full-power, brute-force blow. The Pig-Headed Demon Lord tried to block it with a meat cleaver held in one hand.
That, he couldn't quite manage. He was sent flying and took damage. But it wasn't decisive.
"You think a filthy pig can be a Demon Lord? Don't get ahead of yourself!"
Shouting those words, Shion wrapped Demon Aura around her greatsword and swung down in a massive overhead strike.
The Pig-Headed Demon Lord, having stumbled back to his feet, now raised his meat cleaver with both arms.
Sword and cleaver collided with a spectacular burst of sparks.
The one who overpowered the exchange was the Pig-Headed Demon Lord. He exceeded even Shion—who was already blessed with absurd strength as a wielder of "Mighty Strength"—in raw physical power.
Were his physical abilities amplified to an overwhelming degree as well... I wanted to sigh.
Shion was knocked back, and the Pig-Headed Demon Lord's follow-up strike chased after her.
Sensing the danger, Shion wrapped Demon Aura around her body and braced for the blow.
But she had taken considerable damage.
Her expression was frustrated, but it would be a while before she could fight again.
Without a sound, a middle-aged Samurai appeared behind the Pig-Headed Demon Lord.
It was Hakuro.
Even I, observing from high above, could barely track the speed at which he unleashed his sword.
Not only was it impossible to block—it was impossible to dodge.
A blade traced across the Pig-Headed Demon Lord's body, splitting his torso clean in two. His head fell to the ground.
Surely that had to kill him. That's what I thought.
And yet...
The severed torso was held together by yellow Demon Aura that writhed like tentacles, reconnecting the halves.
Then he crouched down, picked up his fallen head, and placed it back where it belonged.
Everyone was struck speechless at the horror-movie sight before them.
Even Hakuro's eyes were wide with shock.
Now I was certain.
The Pig-Headed Demon Lord's most terrifying ability was his monstrous recovery power.
Right now, he didn't yet possess various resistances. And yet, with this regeneration alone—once resistances were added on top, he would become impossible to kill.
But even if we tried to burn him with fire or Black Lightning, his defenses and regeneration would likely overpower the assault.
What were we supposed to do...
Benimaru and Ranga were out of Magicules. Shion was injured. Now it was Hakuro facing him one-on-one.
Hakuro's attacks weren't getting through, but neither were the Pig-Headed Demon Lord's.
As expected of a master swordsman. But if this went on, it would be a slow defeat.
Then— "String Puppet Binding Formation!"
Simultaneous with the voice, the Pig-Headed Demon Lord was bound by Sticky Steel Threads.
It was Souei's doing. He must have slipped into Hakuro's shadow at some point and waited for the perfect moment.
*Brilliant,* I thought with admiration.
Even with extraordinary regeneration, there was nothing he could do about this.
The ace was always the last to arrive. And that was Souei.
Just as I was starting to relax, I noticed something wrong.
Yellow Demon Aura coiled around the Sticky Steel Threads— "Devouring Chaos!"
The Pig-Headed Demon Lord activated his ability.
It was even more malevolent than what the Orc General had used.
It corroded and devoured everything it touched.
That yellow Demon Aura itself was the true essence of the Pig-Headed Demon Lord's power.
In fact, this technique was one of the abilities of the Unique Skill "Starved One."
It carried a corrosive effect, rotting away any material it contacted.
If a target failed to resist, they would corrode—and if living, death would follow.
The Pig-Headed Demon Lord pressed the attack.
"Die! Hungry Ghost's Marching Dance!"
It was Gelmud's technique. But its lethality was incomparably greater.
Hakuro and Souei sensed it and retreated.
Benimaru's Black Flame Hell had stripped the area of everything around them, so I couldn't be sure of its full power, but it likely dealt not only direct damage to anyone it touched but also a corrosive effect.
Quality, power, range—it had it all. A truly lethal attack. Its slow speed was the only saving grace.
If anyone took a direct hit, not even the Kijin would walk away unscathed.
"Hahhhhh! Yes! Entertain me more! A fine warm-up before the meal.
You all look delicious! Hahahaha! You'll be my sustenance. You should be grateful!"
My five strongest subordinates had attacked simultaneously, and we still couldn't win.
This was...
I couldn't stop my body from trembling.
This trembling came from instinct.
This was bad. I was shaking uncontrollably.
...Was this fear?
No—that wasn't it.
This was— Joy. That was it. Was I... enjoying this?
Yes. Deep in my gut, my instincts were going wild with excitement, and I couldn't make them stop.
An opponent who couldn't be beaten even with my five strongest subordinates attacking at once.
And yet, there was no fear in my heart.
The dread I'd felt at the start had already been blown away entirely.
That's right. I acknowledged this creature as my enemy.
I shouldn't have called him a nuisance.
I stopped flying and descended to the ground.
The Pig-Headed Demon Lord's yellow Demon Aura and Devouring Chaos surged toward me.
A sticky sensation clung to my body. Disgusting.
So you want to devour me, do you?
Fine then. Give it your best shot!
Driven by the thrill rising through my instincts, I allowed a thin smile to cross my face.
If you want to devour me, then I'll devour you first!
And just like that, the Pig-Headed Demon Lord Gelmud and I met at last for our decisive clash.