Chapter 132 - Victorious Defense

"The plan is beyond reckless, especially coming from Kagali-sama," Clayman sighed, watching as his comrades moved to their respective opponents. He wasn't part of such forces, he knew he wasn't as strong as most of them, but he also knew what his role was.

Having Kagali reassure him that he was made specifically to be smart and tactical rather than strong had been more of a compliment than an insult. He realized, in his current form, he had many similarities to his master.

Kagali herself wasn't a very talented fighter. Of course, she wasn't, she was a princess of a fallen great kingdom, after all. Her talents lay in support magic and managerial work. It was only a few hundred years ago that her talent for golem magic had truly begun to bloom.

Clayman was the same. His brain was sharper than both Tear's and Footman's, though Laplace was a bit different. Four times out of ten, he could lose in a battle of wits with Laplace. Even then, Laplace praised him for managing to outwit him in that aspect, considering his wife and daughter were geniuses of an entirely different level. Laplace himself had to adapt to that.

While Clayman's talent for golems wasn't as high as Kagali's, he had developed something almost similar, yet different.

He turned around, making his way through the mist. Hundreds of golems, undead, and dolls marched in perfect formation behind him. The way they moved in such synchronized precision was both captivating and surreal to anyone who watched.

"The soldiers should be waiting outside the mist," Clayman muttered to himself, his eyes scanning the area. "Kanzis and Minitz detected Quo and Laplace and moved forward on their own, leaving the rest to wait."

Using the leylines, he could detect the position of every soldier who survived the battle with the thousands of golems. From what Clayman could see, some were staying vigilant, while most were exhausted, daring to sit on the ground and close their eyes.

"They do know they're in enemy territory, right?" he couldn't help but ask, a wry smirk forming on his face as he shook his head. Despite preparing to ambush them, he still felt a strange sense of concern for his enemies. "Shall we start?"

He adjusted his clothes and smiled.

The soldiers, meanwhile, were feeling dizzy. It had only been a few hours since their glorious march to conquer the west began, yet here they were, part of a detachment that wasn't even engaged with the monsters in the forest that blocked their path of conquest.

"Lieutenant has there been any contact with Major General Minitz and Colonel Kanzis?" a captain asked, looking over at the troops who rested, eating and closing their eyes, as the sounds of battle raged hundreds of meters away.

"No new orders," the lieutenant replied, shaking his head. His gaze drifted toward the mist, where explosions and minor earth tremors occurred every few seconds. "I'll send a team to survey the battle. Other than that, we wait."

With a hesitant nod, the lieutenant sent the surviving, best soldiers, a group of ten, out to scout the battle. As they left, the lieutenant's worry only deepened. They were in the middle of enemy territory, with no contact from their superiors. He began to entertain the idea of retreating or even moving north to join the battle in the forest.

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the area, pulling the lieutenant from his thoughts. He whipped around, his heart sinking as the explosion happened near the group of soldiers resting together.

But it didn't stop there. More explosions ripped through the ground, like landmines manually triggered by someone. More followed, spreading chaos in every direction.

"Enemy attack!" a soldier screamed.

"An ambush! Prepare for battle!" another shouted, panic setting in.

"Over there!" a third soldier pointed, his voice cracking with fear. The soldiers scrambled to defend themselves, some frantically grabbing weapons while others rushed to alert their comrades.

A wave of golems surged forward, crashing into the nearest soldiers. Their massive weapons swung down with precision, cutting through the invaders. The golems moved like a cavalry, focusing more on disorienting the enemy than on causing outright damage. Their sweeping motions took out anyone who was unfortunate enough to get too close.

Clayman, observing from behind the battlefield, raised his hand, sending the next wave into action with a single, calculated gesture.

Undead soldiers, armed with spears and swords, began to march forward. Clayman's mind drifted to a conversation he once had with Adalman, who had shared that the majority of those he had died alongside were Templar Knights of Lubelios. They had fallen to a death dragon long ago.

Even though the souls of these knights no longer resided in their bodies, the muscle memory of these undead was far superior to that of regular, mindless creatures. The soldiers they once were still lived in their movements, despite the lack of a conscious mind.

The rest of the undead, not part of Adalman's group, were remnants of the time when Eurazania had attempted to invade Amarita. Their bodies had been used by the Wight King, whose power had transformed them into lycanthrope-infused corpses.

The battle escalated quickly. The soldiers, armed with firearms, found themselves virtually useless. Their guns could do little unless powered by magicules to create significant damage that could immobilize the undead.

But even then, the undead seemed to defy nature itself. Missing limbs, decapitated heads, or brains shot to pieces, nothing mattered. The undead began to regenerate their broken parts as if they were no longer bound by the same laws that governed the living.

"Damn it!" a soldier shouted, overwhelmed by the sheer number of undead closing in.

"Move forward!" Clayman commanded with a cold, almost detached wave of his hand. His undead surged forward, cutting down anything in their path with brutal efficiency.

Even the soldiers who managed to defeat the undead and create gaps in their ranks soon found themselves overwhelmed again, as the support group behind them picked off stragglers.

Clayman's dolls followed closely behind, their eerily lifelike forms marching silently but efficiently. These creations of his were designed to be different, capable of firing magic and other projectiles. Their precise, deadly attacks rang out across the battlefield, picking off soldiers and providing further support to the onslaught.

"Golems, make another sweep," Clayman ordered, his voice calm but resolute. The golems turned, regrouped, and charged once more, aiming for the heart of the enemy's defenses. They plowed through the remaining soldiers with relentless force, their massive bodies crashing into the soldiers' ranks.

....

Adalman could sense the chaos of the battle unfolding with Clayman. His unique ability allowed him to borrow the sight of his undead, using their eyes to witness the carnage from afar.

His expression was unreadable, but his thoughts were sharp. Looks like there will be more undead in my legion than ever before. He muttered to himself, his eyes narrowing. "Clayman-dono told me that there was a total of 50,000 of you?"

He glanced down at the scene before him, where Gozaline, one of the three generals of Gladim, knelt before him, gasping for breath. Albert, a loyal companion and friend of Adalman, held a sword at her neck.

Behind Adalman stood the death dragon, the very creature that had been the cause of the clergyman's demise. After years spent in the miasma-covered death lands, Adalman had developed a strange fondness for the undead dragon, almost as if it were a pet. Albert had mixed feelings about it at first, but even he had eventually accepted the dragon's presence.

Gozaline, still reeling from her injuries, glared up at Adalman, her hatred unmistakable. "Kishi... how is this possible? You!" she spat; her voice thick with disbelief.

When she realized she was at a disadvantage, Gozaline reacted swiftly. Her body began to shift as she merged with her Lorelei, her skin hardening into a rocky, almost indestructible form, and tendrils grew from her back, bristling with power. In her mind, victory was inevitable, she was confident that even the death dragon wouldn't stand a chance now. But that confidence quickly shattered as she found herself facing defeat.

The tendrils that had once seemed so imposing were severed with ease by Albert, and the searing heat of the death dragon's breath burned through her rocky skin, causing her to wince in pain.

"You... how can you use holy magic?!" she demanded, her voice trembling with a mixture of rage and confusion.

Adalman, despite his skeletal form, smiled with pride at her question. With his hands clasped together in a solemn gesture, he gazed up toward the sky, as if drawing strength from some divine source. "It is because of my faith," he said calmly, his tone almost reverential.

Gozaline, struggling to move, continued to curse at him. "What the hell are you talking about? This isn't what was supposed to happen!" She spat furiously, her efforts to push herself up futile. Her legs had been shattered by the undead paladin's strike, leaving her incapable of standing or fleeing.

Adalman paid her no mind as he turned his back on her, his voice steady as he addressed his companion. "Ah, let us finish this." He nodded toward Albert, who stepped back, giving Adalman room to work. "Put an end to all, Disintegration!"

The air around them began to shimmer as layers of magic circles materialized above Gozaline. Each one glowing with a potent, otherworldly energy. Albert leaped back, instinctively shielding his face as the holy magic activated, bathing the area in blinding light. The pillar of radiant power engulfed Gozaline completely.

"Damn it!!" she screamed in agony, her voice barely audible over the overwhelming light.

When the light finally faded, the space where Gozaline had been was left eerily still. The ground where the pillar of light had struck was scorched, now a smooth, glass-like surface, utterly devoid of her presence.

Kagali brushed off the dirt from her clothing, feeling dizzy as she used the scepter for support to stand. Her feet wobbled beneath her, barely able to hold her weight.

Taking deep breaths, she looked ahead at Gladim, who was almost as injured as she was. Despite her advanced knowledge of magic and being mentored by Rimuru himself, she was still struggling.

She gripped her scepter, which glowed brightly in her hand. Gladim saw the flare of energy and quickly dodged as a bolt of lightning shot past, striking the ground where he had been standing.

"Hah... shit!" Gladim, now in his beast form, a massive white tiger lycanthrope, glared at Kagali. His fur was singed, and one of his arms hung useless, barely functional. "How are your legs?" he taunted, his voice dripping with malice as he eyed the wounds he had inflicted on her.

Kagali winced, as if her body had only just remembered the pain in her lower limbs. With a quiet grunt, she raised a pillar of dirt from the ground, leaning against it as she used magic to heal her wounds. "They're all good. How's your arm?" she shot back, her voice steady despite the pain.

Gladim's eyes narrowed, his frown deepening. His teeth ground together as his body tensed. Even with one arm practically useless, he dropped to all fours, his muscles rippling as he ran at her with the force of a storm.

The elven princess sprang into the air, her magic lifting her higher. She glanced down to see the lycanthrope preparing to leap after her.

Without hesitation, Kagali raised her scepter and unleashed a barrage of high-level magic. Flames erupted from the tip of her staff, followed by bolts of lightning, all aimed at Gladim. Each blast was deflected with a swipe of his massive claws, his body moving with terrifying speed as he got closer to her.

Kagali flew higher, her focus on keeping distance as she continued to unleash wave after wave of destructive magic. But Gladim, a high-level majin, wasn't just a beast, he had mastered flight magic as well. He closed the gap, chasing her relentlessly.

"Agh!" Kagali gasped as she felt his claws sink into her leg, then the world flipped upside down as she was thrown to the ground.

Her body hit the earth with a sickening thud, pain exploding through her. She coughed up blood, the taste metallic in her mouth. Her vision blurred, her senses growing hazy as she barely registered Gladim landing beside her.

"Sorry, Rimuru..." she muttered weakly, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Looks like I lose..."

(Not yet.) A voice echoed in her mind, cold yet reassuring. (Master seems to like you a lot. I'll help you.)

Confusion filled Kagali's eyes as she forced them open. Her body surged with unfamiliar power, a force she couldn't quite control.

<<Confirmed. Unique Skills: Planner & Manufacturer combined to cause evolution... Successful. Ultimate Enchantment Lord of Manufacture: Hephaestus acquired.>>

<<Additionally: A surge of human souls was sent through the connection with the individual Clayman. Evolution to a True Demon Lord confirmed.>>

(I'll give you two minutes to finish your battle. After that, you will fall unconscious due to your evolution.)

Gladim grinned down at her, a cruel sneer twisting his face. He raised his clawed hand high, ready to deliver the final blow. "Goodbye, Demon Lord!"

But before he could strike, chains shot up from the ground behind him, wrapping around his raised arm. "Wha-what is this?!" Gladim's eyes widened in shock as more chains erupted from the earth, fastened to every part of his body. His muscles strained, but the chains held firm, pinning him down.

A helmet of metal clamped over his face, a gag-like device forcing his mouth shut. His body could barely move, his once-proud form reduced to a shackled wreck.

Kagali, though barely able to stand, watched through the slits of his helmet as the chains continued to ensnare him. Her legs trembled beneath her, her strength failing.

"Hahh... bleh..." She vomited a massive amount of blood, barely managing to lift her gaze to the imprisoned Gladim. "Looks like I owe Rimuru again..."

She smiled, not wryly, nor in dissatisfaction, but with a warmth that seemed out of place in such a brutal moment. "Be trapped in eternal pain... Iron Maiden!"

At her command, the chains began to writhe, their links twisting and pulling something from the depths of the earth. A massive metallic coffin slowly emerged, gleaming with a cold, unforgiving sheen.

The chains fastened themselves to the coffin, pulling it toward Gladim's immobile form. With a final, relentless motion, the coffin encased his entire body, molding perfectly around him, sealing him inside as if he were a mere tool of torment.

Kagali's eyes fluttered as she felt her strength drain away. The world around her blurred, and her knees buckled. Her body gave out, and she collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.

"Whoa there..." Laplace appeared just in time, catching Kagali's limp body before it hit the earth. "You sure made a mess here, Kagali-sama."

...

"...Hey, Ciel, I heard you called?" Veldora's voice broke through the silence, and Ciel, standing by the window with her back turned, gazed out over the horizon, her eyes focused on the southeast, particularly toward Amarita, the land next to the Empire.

"Yes, I want you to go west to Darmagian," Ciel ordered, her voice calm but firm. Rimuru had assigned her as his second-in-command for this war, and Veldora, despite his typical carefree nature, was bound to follow her every command.

Not that he planned to argue, of course. He couldn't shake the strange feeling he had every time he saw her, like he could see Velzard's gaze and teachings in her eyes. The warning bells in his mind never stopped ringing.

"Got it," Veldora said, though his voice was laced with confusion. "Should I help Dagruel? Did something happen to him?"

"No," Ciel replied, her tone unchanging. "You will fight Demon Lord Dagruel."

"...What?"

A/N: Writing this, I really didn't develop the characters in the Forest... aside from Benimaru and Hakuro (and random gabiru and Geld) the others don't exist. I'll take note of this for the future revised version. (If they exist.)