So, after getting a detailed report from old man Gazel, Shinji, and the others who had arrived, it was confirmed that the Empire was on the move.
Just as I'd hoped.
First, I set up an integrated operations headquarters inside the control room to serve as the command center.
Souei had deployed clones throughout the region, gathering intelligence independently of surveillance imagery.
Frankly speaking, using high-altitude surveillance footage in this world's wars was practically cheating.
Just think about it.
I'd been agonizing over which route the enemy might take, but now that was nothing but a joke.
We were monitoring every suspicious path, even the goings-on inside the Empire itself—every first move was completely transparent.
To put it in shogi terms: we could see the entire board, while the opponent was blindfolded, moving pieces without ever knowing our next move. That was roughly the situation.
As long as you weren't a complete amateur, you wouldn't lose against a master player under those conditions.
This wasn't just losing a rook and bishop—it was an absolute, overwhelming advantage.
Well, war had no rules.
Victory was justice, plain and simple.
There was no international law in this world, so there were no rules to break, which meant no problem.
Among the participating nations of the Council, there were something resembling international conventions, and normally both sides' leaders would negotiate wartime and postwar agreements before hostilities began.
But against a unilateral aggressor, those rules didn't apply.
Which meant anything went.
Frankly, I'd established only one rule: no targeting civilians!
That was it.
And of course, any attacks after I declared the war over were strictly prohibited as well.
I trusted that nobody would defy my will and disobey this order.
With that settled, the screens around the room displayed the Imperial forces gradually assembling.
As a vanguard, the First Army under
Their numbers were small, but I judged it wouldn't be a problem if they stuck to hit-and-run tactics.
However— "Hey! Wait… why are there tanks!?"
Soldiers like Shinji wouldn't have any knowledge of military secrets, so the tanks' existence had never been reported to them.
From aerial observation, I counted roughly 4,000 of them.
And they appeared to use Magicules for their energy source, so there was no need for fuel resupply.
Judging by performance alone, these tanks were highly versatile and easily outperformed the best tanks from my original world.
They weren't powered solely by Magicules—they did seem to receive some form of fuel supply, but their speed was abnormal regardless.
They could travel at over 100 km/h and rough terrain posed no problem.
They lightly lifted off the ground, hovering in the air.
Honestly, rather than thinking "Wow, magic is amazing!", I felt the bitter frustration of "I should have developed something like this on our end too."
The knowledge of "otherworlders" had clearly been incorporated.
It was an idea I could have come up with myself, yet in a world of knights, the concept of tanks had simply never occurred to me.
If only I'd been more open-minded and placed more free-spirited orders…
No, forget it.
No point in regretting it now. That was something to address going forward.
Once this war was over, I'd try all sorts of more ambitious developments.
And the tanks weren't the only surprise.
There were airships flying overhead.
You're kidding me!?
It took everything I not to scream.
With those, transportation would become infinitely easier. Using them for war would solve all logistical problems.
I'd been optimistic that we could unilaterally seize air superiority, but that turned out to be complacency.
I briefly thought about developing our own, but realistically it wasn't feasible.
We were doing all sorts of development, but each item had been practicalized through trial and error.
I should honestly commend their development team's achievements.
These weren't inventions that could be completed overnight.
Still, I couldn't help but want to capture one intact—not that I could be blamed for that.
So yes, I was surprised by the Empire's military hardware, but we still had the edge in the intelligence war.
Raphael had quickly counted the total forces—roughly one million soldiers.
What an absurd number.
I didn't know how much of this reflected Yuuki's will, but controlling that many troops would be difficult.
I suspected the bait I'd scattered had also played a significant role.
If that was the case, one enemy army might aim for the labyrinth.
While I was watching the situation, a unit appeared peeling off in a different direction from where the tanks were advancing.
They seemed to be trying to invade along the border near the Dwarf Kingdom.
Using the tanks as a decoy main force while deploying the real army elsewhere, huh?
Honestly, the only reaction I could muster was "Hm."
"What should we do? Shall we recall Gobta and the others from the front lines?"
"No, we're short on numbers regardless, and we'll leave the real army to Geld.
Besides, a portion will probably enter the labyrinth, so it'd be easier to pick them off one by one."
"I see. And what about the labyrinth?"
Benimaru was unusually serious.
His usual casual tone was gone, revealing his true nature as supreme commander.
Truly dependable.
"
"Sure can! No problem at all!"
Good. Then let's do that.
So I explained the situation to Masayuki, commander of the volunteer army.
"Seriously?! You can do something like that?"
I left it to the astonished Masayuki.
Apparently, he'd persuaded the Demon Lord and obtained a guarantee to protect the town.
Truly worthy of a Hero!
How dependable!
That was the sentiment of the townsfolk, while Masayuki wore a complicated expression.
But even that look was interpreted as: The Hero must not yet be satisfied.
Indeed, indeed. The Hero himself will protect this town. Simply leave everything to him and all will be well!
With that kind of interpretation, nobody ever noticed Masayuki's distress.
And so, the upper town was relocated entirely to the 101st floor of the labyrinth.
The 100th and 95th floors had been swapped, and with each floor shifted by one, the defensive formation was airtight.
In fact, charging through 90 floors would be impossible for any army.
Logistics alone would stretch to their limit at a few days' supply. They couldn't use the labyrinth inn, so a breakthrough was basically out of the question.
Shinji had said that modified soldiers wouldn't need food or drink for two weeks, but I doubted they could conquer the labyrinth in that time.
Well, I'd stay vigilant and deal with that if it came up.
They might bypass the labyrinth entirely, so there was no use worrying about it now.
And so, our preparations fell into place.
The labyrinth's surrounding towns were isolated, and Geld's Second Army of 17,000 was deployed across the front of the Monster Country.
Behind them stood 10,000 volunteers and 50,000 monster troops.
We'd sent word to neighboring nations about the Empire's movements, and they would likely begin military mobilization promptly, but they might not make it in time.
We couldn't exactly call a draft before the war, and the Empire's movements had exceeded projections.
So I'd asked them to organize their forces and hold in a state of readiness.
In the worst case, we'd have to hole up and wait for reinforcements—but that would essentially mean we'd lost.
Well, it all depended on the situation.
Right, our preparations were complete, so let's officially declare the war.
The Empire's tank force had already invaded the Great Forest of Jura, my Demon Lord territory.
I'd been ignoring them to avoid revealing that I could see everything, holding off until our preparations were in order.
They'd already violated our territory, of course, but I would issue a warning now as though I'd only just noticed.
Incidentally, I'd dispatched new recruits to each army corps as intelligence officers.
Gobta had been suspicious: "There's no way the First Army can be run by some woman who's never seen battle!"
But that woman was actually
I thought, You're… going to get yourself killed! But I kept my mouth shut.
Because it would be more entertaining that way.
I'd look forward to the moment he'd go "G-G-Gh?!" later.
Gabiru, on the other hand, had matured.
"I have many shortcomings, so I humbly ask for your guidance!" he'd said upon introducing
Testarossa, Ultima,
Among these three Demon Peers, Ultima was honestly the most sadistic in temperament.
If the assignments had been swapped and Gobta had gotten Ultima instead, his life might have been in danger.
Gabiru, on the other hand, seemed to have earned Ultima's favor.
Good, good.
I'd made sure to inform him that under no circumstances should he reveal her identity, and that he must obey her orders as an officer—but there was still a scary sense that Ultima would do something on a whim anyway.
She'd carry out his orders while simultaneously exacting her own little revenge. That was exactly the kind of thing Ultima would do.
Gabiru, you kept yourself in check and didn't get carried away—and that saved your life.
So for now, Gobta was the only source of entertainment.
Well, Testarossa and the others, dispatched as intelligence officers, would probably play it patient and observe at first.
As long as I didn't give them a direct order, that is.
So I contacted Gobta.
First, I needed to issue the warning… but who should I assign?
Gobta lacked the gravitas for the job, and Gabiru was being held in reserve in aerial standby.
That left— (Testarossa, I'm entrusting this to you!)
(Haha, thank you very much! I shall certainly deliver results worthy of your expectations!)
I gave the order to Testarossa.
Well, even if the Empire attacked without warning, she wouldn't be in any danger.
It was a bit theatrical, but a certain amount of showmanship was necessary.
I could have let her annihilate them without a word, but a Demon Lord needed some dramatic flair.
--- Major General
True to his rank as a major general, Gaster's abilities were formidable.
He possessed the Unique Skill "Orator," which governed sound, allowing him to analyze situations in exquisite detail simply by listening to various sounds.
He could also issue specific commands using a special wave frequency, enabling him to direct only his allies even in the midst of a chaotic melee.
Furthermore, he held a hidden ace: a sonic cannon capable of cellular destruction. He was among the Empire's top echelon of power.
Gaster noticed the sudden absence of ambient sound and issued a halt command to his entire force.
After obeying the order and waiting a moment, three figures emerged from the forest ahead, walking toward them.
There was no way they were ordinary travelers, and nobody assumed this was a chance encounter.
The woman walking at the front possessed a beauty that seemed inhuman.
Crimson hair cascaded elegantly, accentuating her striking features.
Yet in stark contrast to her beauty, her body was clad in a strict military uniform.
The two men behind her were the same: a stern-looking, handsome middle-aged man and a rotund man of indeterminate age, both wearing uniforms of the same design.
Gaster understood immediately that these three were unquestionably subordinates of the Demon Lord.
The woman stopped, gave a slight bow, and cast a bewitching smile in their direction.
"It is a pleasure to meet you all.
My name is Testarossa.
I am the confidant of the great Demon Lord Rimuru, lord of this domain.
The purpose of my visit today is to relay my master's words: 'If you withdraw now, we will let you pass. But should you advance any further, you will be shown no mercy.'"
As the woman—Testarossa, apparently—spoke, the man behind her casually waved his hand.
In that instant, a wall of flame materialized precisely one meter in front of the most advanced tank.
The wall vanished in an instant, leaving behind a molten, scorched line etched into the earth.
"Surely you understand by now?
Cross that line, and your lives will cease to exist.
Those without resolve should not proceed further.
Well then, farewell."
With an elegant bow, Testarossa turned on her heel.
The men behind her followed suit, preparing to leave.
She'd said everything she wanted to say, as if they were utterly beneath her notice.
That attitude ignited Gaster's fury.
(Do it!)
He issued a curt order to his sniper.
The soldier raised his rifle and locked onto Testarossa.
A soundless magic bullet was fired— Testarossa turned around, deepened her smile, and let out an evil chuckle.
The bullet that should have pierced her body had been stopped by the delicate tip of her single index finger, held firmly in place.
A recoilless mass of magical energy that, upon release, reached three times the speed of sound.
Upon impact, it was supposed to release its magicules and lethally destroy its target with certainty—yet it had been plucked from the air and discarded without incident.
As if handling a tedious toy.
And then, as if nothing had happened at all, she walked away without once looking back.
Gaster felt terror and confusion surging within him, but he crushed them with sheer willpower.
The rank-and-file soldiers didn't understand what had just happened. Only he and the sniper had witnessed it.
In Gaster's mind, terror and humiliation balanced on a scale—and humiliation won.
"Don't be deceived! Dedicate your victory to His Majesty the Emperor! All forces, charge!!"
At Gaster's thunderous command, the entire tank corps surged forward.
The warning line was crossed without hesitation, and the war had begun.