Day four since Rimuru's escape.
They wanted to investigate all the Western Nations, but since they'd agreed to refrain from casually teleporting, that would have to wait.
To that end, Souei had created several clones and dispatched them to various locations to conduct the investigation as efficiently as possible.
On top of that, he'd mobilized all of his subordinates as well.
"Normally, we should take our time and investigate thoroughly—"
"Indeed. But you've got a pretty good idea who's behind this, right?"
"Yes, I have a suspicion. The Western Nations will likely end up being a dead end. Sorry for the trouble, Souei."
"Not really. This is Intelligence's fault for overlooking the critical information."
"Kufufufu. We're not exactly well-versed in economics, so it's not entirely unreasonable that we didn't prioritize that information. However—"
"Well, fair enough. But even if we'd missed it, she would have noticed, wouldn't she?"
"Exactly. So there's no problem at all. If anything, this is precisely the right time to consider that we now have grounds to act."
"You're right. That's exactly it."
Both Diablo and Souei considered that even if they couldn't trace the mastermind from here, it wasn't a major issue.
If they could follow the unnatural flow of money and narrow it down to a specific individual or organization, the mastermind would naturally come to light.
The supreme command Rimuru had given them was to root out corruption at the academies.
So as long as they investigated each academy for corruption and eliminated it where it existed, that would suffice.
Fortunately, no corruption had been found at the Tempest Talent Academy, and it had been concluded that no illicit payments had been made.
Of course.
If corruption had been discovered in Tempest—Rimuru's own domain—it would have become a scandal of far greater proportions than any mere "unfortunate incident."
The Ingracia General Academy investigation had similarly concluded with only a minor amount of corruption among some noble-born faculty members.
The degree of corruption was extremely slight, and much of it seemed like it could be corrected through the institution's own self-purifying mechanisms.
The list of noble-born teachers who had received funding had already been compiled, and Souei's clones were to apprehend them and then trace the connections from there.
Every means at their disposal—military force, political power, money, people, resources—would be employed to corner the enemy.
This was nothing short of an economic war.
That was the strategy, and it was no exaggeration to say so.
But probably…
Diablo believed that the source of the money was not the Western Nations.
The funds were coming from the Eastern Empire—and more specifically, from remnants of the old Emperor's faction. That was the prediction Diablo had put forward.
And the report that confirmed his hypothesis arrived that very morning, delivered via a message from
All the students were safe, but a number of them had declared themselves the "Humanity Liberation Alliance" and severed ties with the academy.
They had done so after plotting to eliminate the troublesome faculty members and the most talented students…
Once the situation had been arranged this neatly, it was already definitive.
As a precaution, it was decided that Souei's subordinates would continue the investigation in the Western Nations.
After finishing the paperwork, they arranged two airship tickets.
And so, Diablo and Souei headed for the Nasca Namrium Ulmeria United Eastern Alliance.
◇◇◇ And so— Day six since Rimuru's escape.
Diablo was storming the NNU Magic Science Academy alone.
Souei had dispatched clones across the vast imperial territory and was compiling the intelligence they gathered.
He'd obtained considerable information over the past two days, but direct contact with the NNU Magic Science Academy—the most critical target—was happening for the first time now.
Souei had initially raised objections to Diablo going alone, but ultimately he accepted Diablo's reasoning.
"Just promise me you won't go berserk?"
"Kufufufu, you're so persistent, Souei—"
That exchange aside, Diablo had secured himself a prime role.
He settled into a plain but comfortable sofa and elegantly took a sip of the tea that had been offered.
He'd arrived on the earliest airship, so it was only just past midday.
"My, my—Lord Diablo! I've heard quite a lot about you. To be able to meet in person the famous "Demon God King," one of the most renowned among Lord Rimuru's subordinates… I am truly honored."
"Kufufufu. A pleasure. You must be the Headmaster—no need for introductions, I'd say?"
"Yes! I am Goldama Silver, and I have the privilege of overseeing this academy."
The man who had appeared before the lounging Diablo was a portly figure who exuded an unmistakable air of authority.
It was evident that he had been quite muscular in his younger days, but age had won out, and fat had begun to settle around his midsection.
Yet his gaze was sharp, and one could sense the vigor radiating from his body.
The staff in his hand was not merely an aid for walking but a high-quality magician's staff used for refining magical energy.
Though its appearance was modest, appraisal of its true nature revealed it to be Special Grade.
In other words, this was a man who possessed considerable wealth, power, or both.
(Surely he doesn't think I can't see through him…)
Diablo concealed his confusion behind an impassive expression.
He was genuinely questioning the man's sanity for standing before him armed with a weapon.
It was understandable to be wary, but carrying a weapons meant the resolve to fight—and that implied he believed he had a chance of winning.
Diablo didn't want to believe this was some petty fool counting on a disguise to evade detection, because if so, it would be a serious problem.
After all, it would mean that such an imbecile had infiltrated the talent development program at three academies—something Rimuru was personally championing.
Though frankly, the mere act of brandishing a weapon before Diablo was already beyond the pale…
Uncharacteristically patient for the moment, Diablo held back and steered the conversation to the real topic.
"Yes, thank you for your efforts. Lord Rimuru has been very much looking forward to the students' growth."
"It's an honor, truly. Now then, may I ask what brings you here today?"
"Yes. I happened to hear a rumor that there's a trend on campus of kowtowing to nobles."
With a beautiful smile on his face, Diablo looked directly at Goldama and spoke.
"I'm aware of it. It was proposed by the Ingracia Academy, if I recall correctly. The idea was to teach students how to handle nobles before they enter the wider world. Even our school acknowledged that there was merit to the proposal."
"Oh? Funded, was it? That sort of thing—the Three Academy Equality Fund—is ripe for abuse. Wouldn't you agree?"
That piercing gaze, which seemed to peer into the man's very soul, met Goldama without causing him to flinch.
Diablo promptly dismissed the response.
"Ha—hahahaha. Yes, we did receive funding, but that's a completely separate matter! To suggest we sold our opinion for money is frankly insulting. Please stop the slander! I agreed because I genuinely believe that learning how to interact with nobles is a necessary part of education!"
Goldama's face reddened slightly, but he maintained his composure as he offered his explanation.
He admitted that research funding had been provided by Ingracia nobles, but insisted it had no connection to the discussions at the three academies.
"Hmm."
Diablo nodded.
Even through Diablo's Magic Eye, Goldama's breathing and heart rate showed no abnormalities.
Either he genuinely believed what he was saying, or the funding itself served some other purpose.
For instance—shifting the blame for the corruption onto the nobles of the Kingdom of Ingracia.
Diablo had already analyzed Souei's intelligence data and confirmed that Goldama was not suffering from any financial difficulties.
The conclusion drawn from that pointed to the latter interpretation being correct.
Diablo judged that he'd get little more useful information from this conversation and fired off one last question.
"Let's set that matter aside for now—I have one more question. You see, we've run into a bit of a problem—"
With that preamble, Diablo laid out the scenario he and Souei had agreed upon.
The same fabricated story he'd explained at the Tempest Talent Academy and the Ingracia General Academy.
—Outwardly, it was Lord Rimuru's little entertainment exercise; in reality, it was an impromptu drill for the students.
That was the explanation given to all relevant parties, assuring them that the students' safety was guaranteed and there was nothing to worry about.
But this time, things were different.
"You should already know this since we notified you, but this is where it gets serious. You see, contact with them has been cut off."
With that, he observed Goldama through his Magic Eye.
"What—!? Is that true?"
Goldama asked back in apparent shock.
But despite his tone and demeanor, Goldama was perfectly calm.
(Not even a flicker of disturbance. So he already knew. I see—) To anyone else, his acting would have appeared as genuine panic. But it didn't fool Diablo.
This was a man who had weathered countless battles, unshaken by anything, forged through one crucible after another.
And it was precisely because of that that he now made a fatal mistake.
If he was truly unfazed, all he had to do was take it in stride.
Instead, by putting on a show of being shaken, he transformed Diablo's suspicion into certainty.
One could say this was the limit of a man named Goldama.
At this point, Diablo was convinced that even if Goldama wasn't the mastermind himself, he was undeniably a member of the "Humanity Liberation Alliance."
◆◆◆ Goldama's mistake was thinking he could fool Diablo.
He believed that with his expensive magic items for protection, his years of honed guile, and his ability to play Diablo like a fiddle and redirect him toward a false target—the nobles of the Kingdom of Ingracia—he could get away with it. That belief was what would lead Goldama to ruin.
"You don't seem very surprised. Could it be that you already know something?"
Diablo asked, still smiling.
"Ha, hahaha. Lord Diablo, what on earth are you—"
Goldama showed the slightest hint of being rattled.
And then he realized that his own composure had cracked, and horror washed over him.
Despite being protected by what should have been perfect magical defenses, the moment he faced Diablo, they seemed utterly ineffective—anxiety gnawed at him.
And in truth, Goldama had known in advance, just as Diablo suspected.
A long-distance magical communication from his fellow conspirator, Magnus, had arrived that very morning.
The message was brief: details of their actions at the survival grounds, location data pinpointing their position, and a request for reinforcements.
Day seven—that was tomorrow, the scheduled contact date with the mysterious duo calling themselves the "Clowns of Greed." They planned to defeat them and seize the airship. However, there was a risk of failure or the ship being damaged, and the possibility that the Clowns of Greed numbered more than two, so they were requesting pickup and backup.
That was the gist of it.
And within that report, there had been a single line noting that the elimination of "obstacles" had been successful.
It was having read that message that had caused Goldama to catch the implication behind Diablo's question.
If this abduction was a staged event carried out under Lord Rimuru's orders, then the "Clowns of Greed" were obviously powerful subordinates of the Demon Lord Rimuru.
And having initiated an action under the watch of such beings, it was only logical that an anomaly would be reported back to Lord Rimuru.
Just as Goldama was contemplating the need to warn his unsuspecting comrades of this fact, Diablo arrived.
(This is bad. Very, very bad—) Goldama was panicking.
He told himself the chances of suspicion falling on him personally were slim, but brought out his magic weapon just to be safe.
His beloved "Staff of the Guardian Heart," which he had treasured for years.
As long as he held this, his mind would be protected. Goldama possessed absolute confidence in that fact.
And now, even that magical effect was failing.
The grounds for robbing Goldama of his composure were more than sufficient.
At that moment, a magic call from his secretary came through.
—Diablo's Existence Value is estimated at 7,000— When he saw that message, Goldama's confidence returned.
He had used a device that measured others' Existence Values, calibrated against that great archdemon—the Greater Demon General who had dragged the Empire into the depths of terror multiple times—whose value was set at 10,000.
And now, the result of measuring Diablo had been delivered.
7,000—that was certainly a formidable level.
But it was by no means an untouchable monster.
After all, the Empire's proud Imperial Knights included those strong enough to single-handedly slay a Greater Demon General.
(What's this? Rumors are just rumors after all.
I heard he was some incomparable monster beyond a Greater Demon General, but he's nothing more than a petty fiend! Did I really fear such a man? How foolish of me. But if that's the case, then there's nothing to fear anymore.)
With that thought, Goldama grinned.
And then, as though signing his own death warrant— "Lord Diablo—no, Diablo. I think I'll have you die right here."
"Ku—kufufufu. What a strange joke."
"That cocky little slime calling himself a True Demon Lord has grown a bit too powerful. I think it's time we trimmed him back. Don't worry—I'll think of some excuse for it, so just die peacefully."
He spoke those unforgivable words, aimed straight at Diablo.