*Content Warning: Graphic violent descriptions* Whether he couldn't grasp the situation or not,
Then his gaze drifted toward the Demon Lords, and his movements froze.
He seemed to have realized the implications of confessing that he'd been the one controlling Milim. Of course, that had all been an act on Milim's part—in reality, it was Clayman who'd been the one being controlled.
Clayman was panicking, stumbling backward.
"That's impossible...
Puppet Demon Lord Domination was a complete success!
How can you not be under the spell's control? That shouldn't be possible!"
He was muttering these words like a man raving with fever.
It seemed he'd finally given up trying to save face before the Demon Lords.
The situation was already decided—there was no talking his way out of it now, and conceding was the only sensible move.
The Demon Lords had already caught on to Clayman's attempt to control Milim. How they chose to take it was up to each of them, but the treatment of someone caught red-handed was already set in stone.
The basic understanding between them was mutual non-aggression, but that didn't mean interfering was strictly forbidden.
All that had really happened was that Clayman had burned through every last shred of his credibility, and the fate of someone in that position was a miserable one.
But this time, the Demon Lords wouldn't need to lift a finger.
"Indeed! You've worked hard for this!
I can usually deflect that kind of magic without any trouble.
First, I released all the barriers, suppressed the resistance with my willpower...
I had to let you see the spell succeed right in front of your eyes, because someone as cautious as you wouldn't have believed it otherwise.
That's how I worked hard to let you cast the spell on me!"
"Wh... What did you say? You let it work on you... on purpose?!
It's the Puppet Demon Lord Domination that can control even Demon Lords! It's the ultimate secret art of curse magic!!!"
"Is that so? Well, controlling me is impossible.
I'm quite skilled at breaking those kinds of spells!"
Milim was puffing out her chest, looking enormously proud of herself.
Watching this exchange, the winged-race Demon Lord
"But I was worried when Clayman actually hit Milim.
I don't care if Milim's plan failed, but having my house destroyed is another matter entirely.
I really showed remarkable restraint, didn't I?"
So he hadn't just punched her now—he'd done it before too? What a piece of work. Was the man suicidal?
"Indeed! I've matured, you know! I've become an adult who can exercise restraint!"
The way she kept emphasizing "adult" so forcefully only made it more obvious she still had a long way to go.
"Right, right. Sure you have.
But seriously, what was the goal behind all this?"
"Hmm? Well, I remembered some suspicious conversation Clayman had been having.
Apparently, he was scheming to turn the town of Tempest into an enemy of humanity and orchestrate a human-demon war.
I couldn't let that happen—it would ruin all the fun—so I decided to intervene!"
"Oh my, you taking action for something other than yourself..."
"Ha ha ha ha! See, I told you!
I've matured!"
"Yes, yes. Let's go with that.
But Clayman—I notice you only act tough around the weak and those who can't fight back.
I don't think you have any right to call yourself a Demon Lord.
I didn't say anything while Milim was putting up with it, but... I was quite angry, you know."
Frey spoke with a quiet fury simmering beneath her words.
"If that's the case, then I've got something to say too—as someone who got his entire town blown to smithereens.
Hey, Clayman. First and foremost, you are not forgiven!"
The Demon Lord
It seemed Clayman had managed to enrage every single Demon Lord present.
But the one most furious of all was me.
I was incredibly grateful that Milim had fought so hard on our behalf, but the fact that she'd been punched by a lowlife like this because of it...
That settled it. Clayman would not die a peaceful death.
"I'm sorry, but I'll handle this one. After all, I've also claimed the title of Demon Lord, and I want to secure my own seat at the table.
I'll eliminate this guy and make them acknowledge me."
When I said this, the others stepped back with an air of "suit yourself."
Though honestly, their real motive was probably to gauge my abilities.
Only Milim was beaming with a happy smile.
Without a word, my anger had clearly gotten through to her.
Clayman seemed to have regained his composure while listening to our conversation.
"Heh heh heh. I see, I see. How touching—a spy, for the sake of friends.
Haaaaa-ha-ha-ha. How amusing.
The tyrant who was so feared, Milim, is now nothing but an errand girl.
And I was afraid of someone like this? How absurd.
Very well! It's a bit early, but allow me to use my trump card!"
With that, he pulled a rainbow-colored jewel from his coat.
The jewel radiated the presence of a Sacred Spirit, and its energy output was equivalent to the souls of ten thousand humans...
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — A flash of light.
When it subsided, the figure standing there had undergone a transformation into an existence that couldn't even be compared to what he'd been before.
His hair shimmered with a rainbow iridescence—a remnant of the Sacred Spirit energy—and had grown long.
His clothes had been torn apart by his expanding muscles, leaving his upper body bare.
Taut, formidable muscles were exposed, radiating an overwhelming sense of power.
His eyes gleamed with prismatic radiance as he surveyed his surroundings.
The Sacred Magicule output from this being was comparable to that of the Giant Demon Lord,
An artificial forced evolution.
He had absorbed the energy of the Sacred Spirit Jewel and driven himself into a Demon Lord awakening.
However, because he had used energy of incompatible elemental properties, he had evolved not into a complete Demon Lord but into a Variant Demon Lord.
Nevertheless, he appeared to have already gained full mastery of this power without needing to wait for the Harvest Festival blessing.
An evolution that made his previous body feel utterly fragile.
His own Unique Skill, "Puppeteer," showed signs of evolving upon absorbing the energy.
Overwhelming power.
Indeed—if he had obtained this power, it was only natural that he would look down on his former self.
No, he was right.
A Demon Lord who hadn't even awakened was nothing but a counterfeit.
This was power.
This was awakening.
And this—this was what it meant to be a Demon Lord!
A test shot of an energy blast struck Demon Lord Carrion, sending him flying backward.
Frey fared the same—there was no way she could withstand it.
Milim, as expected, deflected it without batting an eye. An irritating woman.
But even if he had awakened here, defeating the veterans would be nearly impossible.
The Demon Lords who had survived three or more Great Wars.
The annoying fairy aside, Guy, Milim, and Dagruel were particularly troublesome.
Against newcomers alone, he might hold his own or even have the advantage, but these three were bad news.
He retained the composure needed to make such judgments.
Having sent two Demon Lords flying, he quickly assessed the situation.
The Slimes behind him appeared unharmed, which was equally irritating, but he should retreat and regroup first.
There was no need to panic—he could take them down one by one.
He would report to "that person" who had given him the jewel and discuss future plans.
With that, the strategy was decided.
He would fire the Demon Lord Destruction Cannon at maximum output and attempt to escape while they were busy dealing with it.
The one to watch out for was Guy, but that fellow had no interest in this sort of thing.
It would be fine. Escape was possible. That was his judgment.
If he could kill a few of them in the process, all the better...
As he mused on this, he unleashed the Demon Lord Destruction Cannon.
Destructive power capable of destroying even Demon Lords. A disruption beam composed of accumulated energy that scrambled the arrangement of Magicules, destroying the target from within.
Physical defenses were meaningless—it annihilated barriers made from Magicules along with their creators. The ultimate anti-demon weapon.
He had been confident that no individual could withstand it if concentrated on a single target.
This time, he was firing it across a wide area, so survivors would undoubtedly emerge—but he couldn't afford to be greedy.
Imagining the devastating power of the Demon Lord Destruction Cannon fired from his newly evolved, massively powered-up self, he couldn't help but grin.
The light of the Demon Lord Destruction Cannon flooded the surroundings, painting everything in prismatic hues...
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — When the flash died down, he seemed to notice that the jewel in his hand had been stolen. Clayman's face was blank with shock, completely bewildered.
It appeared he had fully believed in the future that Great Sage had projected through predictive calculations.
I had used Thought Communication to show him a mental image—I'd made it quite realistic.
I glanced down at the jewel in my palm and tucked it safely into my robe.
This wasn't petty theft.
Clayman had levitated the jewel into the air to activate it, and at that exact moment, I'd devoured the intervening space and pulled it to my hand.
But regardless, I'd obtained something valuable. This would be immensely useful for future research.
If Clayman had managed to use this jewel, the outcome would have been equivalent to what Great Sage had predicted.
Even so, I would have crushed him anyway—but sealing his trump card was an effective way to break his spirit.
I hope you understand that I absolutely did not steal this jewel because I wanted it or anything like that.
Besides, Clayman had been underestimating me from the start.
When running at perception speed one million times normal through Thought Acceleration, time was essentially frozen—and magic activated the instant you conceived of it.
That meant even spells with long casting times could be set up simultaneously.
I wasn't foolish enough to let an opponent evolve right in front of me in a situation like this.
I might have let something like that slide before, but...
The Demon Lords seemed to be recovering from the blinding flash I'd released.
I hadn't wanted to show too much of my hand, so I'd fired off a burst of light as a smokescreen, but a few of them had caught a glimpse regardless.
It couldn't be helped. The opposition was too skilled.
I wanted to fight while hiding my capabilities as much as possible, but I couldn't prevent them from predicting me based on even small tells.
If Great Sage could do it, I had to assume my opponents could too.
Accepting this with a resigned shrug, I called out to Clayman.
"Hey, if you're going to use your trump card, make it quick. I'll wait.
You're not planning to use that explosion as cover to escape, are you?"
I knew full well and was cornering him anyway.
I really was a terrible person. Well, I wasn't really a person—I was a Slime, so that was probably fine.
"Wh... What? What just happened...?"
Clayman couldn't hide his agitation.
His trump card had been snatched away in an instant, and he couldn't even process what was going on.
I told you—you're already done for.
With abilities at your level, the moment you decided to oppose me, your future was already set in stone.
Gauging your own strength against your opponent's—there's nothing more important than that.
Even I had to hide my true abilities from the Demon Lords while systematically breaking this guy down and defeating him.
I had no time to spare, so let's get this moving.
"Hey, Clayman. Do you know what happened to the King of the Farmus Kingdom that you instigated?
You're good at gathering information, right? Have you received a report from your subordinates?"
Time to break his spirit.
That alone would fulfill my victory condition.
Nothing broke the spirit like fear.
Or wait—was my train of thought becoming increasingly villainous? Must be because I was a monster, huh?
Or was it because I'd become a Demon Lord? ...Well, whatever.
Clayman turned to look at me.
It seemed he hadn't received any report yet.
King Edmaris of the Farmus Kingdom.
That man was still alive.
Before coming here, I'd left him on the throne of the Farmus Kingdom.
Using my skill, I had fixed his mental state to prevent him from going insane.
Then I'd prepared a large quantity of experimental Recovery Potions and subjected him to torture without killing him.
Even with pain beyond his tolerance threshold, he was not permitted to go mad—and when his limbs were torn off, they grew back.
The meals
I'd had this done during the seven or so days between Shion's awakening and the present.
After letting him vent all the resentment of his murder, I released him.
The rest was up to the King.
I'd broken his spirit, so I could kill him at any time if he disobeyed.
But if he could resist after going through all of that, I would have been willing to acknowledge him as a true King.
Either way, it was just a difference between installing Youm in his place or using the now-submissive King Edmaris as a puppet.
Now then—if even a puppet King had been made to taste that much hell, shouldn't the one pulling his strings receive even greater suffering?
"Shion, I'll deliver the finishing blow to this one. But I'll lend him to you for a bit."
"What are you blabbering about this whole time! What does it matter if he's a human king?
And you're making your subordinates handle him? How cowardly—deal with it yourself..."
"Enough. Shut up."
My words cut off Clayman's chatter.
He tried to speak, but no sound came out—against his own will.
Of course it didn't.
After all, my new ability, the Unique Skill "Puppeteer," had stripped Clayman of his ability to speak.
Well, I wasn't sure when I'd get the chance to use this, but I'd secretly stolen his power as well.
Clayman seemed to realize he'd lost his abilities and was on the verge of a breakdown.
But he couldn't make a sound.
I intended to have him talk about his mastermind, but before that...
"Shion, you have three seconds to hit him."
Shion, who had been waiting at heel like a hungry dog, pummeled Clayman with everything she had for three seconds straight.
Probably well over a hundred punches rained down on Clayman in that span.
From the outside, it looked like he'd only been punched for three seconds—Clayman's hyper-regeneration had already begun healing the wounds.
But could anyone truly imagine the terror Clayman had experienced in that moment?
What I'd done to Clayman was halt his speech.
Simultaneously, I'd fixed his mental state to prevent insanity and accelerated his perception to one million times normal through Thought Acceleration.
My ability now affected not just myself but anyone within my range of influence.
Under Great Sage's domain, Clayman's perception of time was stretched to its limit—equivalent to being beaten continuously for dozens of days.
Shion, the perceptive woman she was, had read my intent instantly and wrapped her fists in "fear."
This inflicted damage not just on the body, but on the mind.
Clayman's spirit, locked into sanity, had nowhere to escape as the pain, agony, and terror mounted.
And with nowhere for those emotions to go, they were carved into his very soul.
When the three seconds had passed, Clayman's hair had turned completely white, and his expression was that of a corpse.
Even an immortal body was meaningless once the Mental Body was destroyed.
He was in a state where he could no longer even conceive of resisting me.
"Now then, Clayman. Talk, and I'll kill you cleanly. Stay silent, and I'll let you play with Shion some more."
Whether he understood my words or not, "I-I'll talk! I'll say anything, just please... k-kill me!!!"
He screamed with a voice that sounded as though his throat had seized.
Had I succeeded in breaking his spirit?
"Very well. I have a question. What is the name of the one pulling your strings?"
For a moment, he stared at me with clouded eyes and hesitated...
But when I stared back, his eyes went bloodshot.
"I'll tell you! I'll tell you, just wait!"
He hastily raised his voice.
And then— "My master... that person's name is Kazaream.
The Curse Spirit King , Kazaream.
He was defeated by Leon over there, but he revived as a Mental Body and had been accumulating power.
And he was the great being who elevated me to Demon Lord..."
Hmm.
Who was that?
The Demon Lords' reactions were lukewarm at best—a collective "never heard of him."
"Ah, right. I remember now.
He was all 'If you become my ally, I'll introduce you to a Demon Lord!' acting all high and mighty.
Annoying fellow, so I killed him on the spot... so he wanted me as an ally?"
Leon murmured this casually, as if discussing the weather.
Leon... what a terrifying woman. There was apparently another person here who never listened to what others had to say.
Well, at least now things were clear. Kazaream had been obsessively building his forces for a long time.
"So what was the goal? What were you after by attacking Tempest?"
"The goal was my ascension to Demon Lord. The Sacred Spirit Jewel was my trump card, and its power would fade once the duration expired.
So he was helping me achieve my Demon Lord transformation."
I see.
Cause chaos and scatter mass "death." The result: stimulate Clayman's awakening.
But if that was the case, this Kazaream fellow knew an awful lot about humans.
If he'd revived as a Mental Body, did that mean he was possessing someone?
He'd be immediately detected in demon territory, and the fact that he'd gone unnoticed all this time suggested he wasn't hiding among demons.
Was he disguised as a human? Or possessing one?
"How long have you been under his control?"
"That was...
More than 400 years ago, before I was elevated to Demon Lord, I was already Kazaream's adjutant.
Even after becoming a Demon Lord, I continued to act according to his orders behind the scenes.
After Leon defeated me, there was no contact for over a hundred years, but about a dozen years ago, I suddenly received word from him.
Since then, I've been following 'that person's' commands."
"How many subordinates does he currently command?"
"Not... many. Just me and a handful of others. But his information network is terrifying.
The movements of human towns—that was handled by 'that person.' The intelligence on the Demon Lords—that was what I was leaking.
He seemed to have his finger on everything from the eastern factions to the entire world's affairs."
"I see. Understood."
A dozen years ago.
Something felt like it was connecting.
My own thoughts, combined with the confirmed facts.
From there, using Great Sage 's computations, I derived a prediction.
The conclusion was still pending. But the suspicion was overwhelming.
But if I connected this with = ... was the mastermind's true goal really Clayman's ascension to Demon Lord?
Whatever.
I'd gotten all the answers I needed. All that remained was to put him out of his misery...
"One thing I should mention—you won't be able to revive, you know?"
I called out to Clayman.
If he'd been counting on resurrection, it was only fair to let him know.
Clayman seemed confused for a moment, unable to comprehend what I'd said.
But then his face went pale.
"What... What do you mean?"
He was desperately trying to feign ignorance.
He had been genuinely forthcoming just moments ago, but this—that was a ploy.
If I delivered death, Clayman planned to release his Astral Body and plot his resurrection.
Unfortunately, Great Sage had already read the telltale signs.
Honestly, any ritual like that was completely transparent in front of me.
Clayman had determined he couldn't defeat me and was simply trying to avoid further suffering.
The fact that he'd been so forthcoming with information was precisely why I'd grown suspicious.
The content of his confession was probably true.
But the reason he'd been so desperate to escape more pain was that he'd already prepared to revive immediately after death.
What a devious piece of work.
Still, in a sense, his dogged determination to report back to his master was almost admirable.
"Well then, I've heard everything I need to hear. I'll now proceed with Clayman's execution.
Does anyone object? If so, I'll deal with you."
Ignoring Clayman's frantic struggling, I observed the Demon Lords' reactions.
"Do as you like."
It was Guy, the red-haired one, who answered on everyone's behalf.
No objections, apparently.
"Stop! Hey, stop this!!!"
As Clayman shrieked, "As promised, I'll grant you a swift death. You should be grateful."
I placed my hand on Clayman's head.
"No! Hey, stop!!! Stop it!!!
H-help me! Kazaream!!!"
No matter how much he screamed, it would never reach me.
Leaving someone like this alive would only plant the seeds of future catastrophe.
And besides—thanks to you, the softness inside me is dead.
I would never, ever lose another companion due to my own weakness again.
"Die!"
The wretched, unsightly writhing of Clayman came to an abrupt end as he vanished from the spot in an instant.
Devoured, body and soul, by the
And within me, that soul was converted into power.
Whether it was a tainted soul, an evil soul, or a righteous one— Death came equally to all. Every soul was broken down within me and converted into pure Magicules.
And so, as promised, Clayman was swiftly granted "death."