Attendance… plz…)
….
Rimuru rubbed his chest, mentally kicking himself for underestimating the Twenty-Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors. But at the same time, a question burned in his mind:
How on earth do the Mage's Association and the Holy Church actually kill these things?
If you ask for a powerful mage, people point to Merlin. But Merlin is a half-incubus Druid. He's a cheat code, just like Rimuru.
Look at the Clock Tower. Aside from the freaks who have lived for centuries, the "peak" of human magi are people like Kayneth or the future Lord El-Melloi II.
Rimuru hadn't thought much of it before, but facing the crushing weight of the Black Knight's sword, he suddenly felt a deep, profound worry for the future of humanity.
What kind of trash matchmaking is this?
No wonder the Dean pinned his hopes on him. Look at Kayneth in the canon, then look at the Ancestors' roster:
Primate Murder (Gaia's pet killer).
The White Princess (Archetype: Earth).
The Black Princess (Hybrid Monster).
The Black Knight (True Daemon).
The White Knight (Vampire Ghost Captain).
If memory served, there was even a freaking Ultimate One from Mercury (ORT) on the list!
Oh, and let's not forget the Wizard Marshal Zelretch, who wields the Second Magic and casually dimension-hops.
"…"
No wonder humanity goes extinct in the Land of Steel timeline. Just let them die. It's hopeless.
And the Church thinks human supremacy is a viable policy? Are they high?
Most Ancestors and Phantasmal Species in the Reverse Side didn't even care about humans. The only reason things went south was because humans kept poking the bear until Gaia snapped and called in the Types.
Rimuru, as a Phantasmal Species, knew that Gaia's will was absolute for his kind.
Maybe… maybe I should just wipe out the Church right now? Save them the trouble of annoying Gaia into triggering the apocalypse?
[Notice. You should focus on the combat.]
The Great Sage's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts.
"Oh, right… I'm still fighting."
Rimuru muttered, looking up.
Just in time to see the demon sword flying at him again.
Thwip!
BANG!
The blade pierced Rimuru's abdomen, pinning him to the wall like a butterfly in a display case.
"…"
[Analysis. Total defeat. However, the Executors have arrived. We can retreat immediately.]
Yeah…
Rimuru gripped the blade of the demon sword, pulling it out of his gut with a wet squelch. He pouted, tossing the weapon aside.
"But retreating like this pisses me off."
[Would you like to activate Assist Mode?]
For Rimuru, combat experience might be a weak point, but he held a trump card that rendered "experience" irrelevant.
The Great Sage.
It was a supercomputer capable of mana control with microscopic precision, combat forecasting that bordered on precognition, and access to a comprehensive encyclopedia of violence.
Assist Mode.
Or, in gamer terms: Aimbot. Auto-Battle. Let the AI take the wheel.
"Do it," Rimuru sighed, mentally flipping the switch.
He gripped the demon blade piercing his gut. It was vibrating, humming with a magnetic pull as Strout tried to recall it.
That just pissed Rimuru off even more.
You stabbed me, and now you want your toy back? Without even disarming yourself?
Since you let go of it…
It's mine now.
"Eat it, Great Sage!"
Rimuru clamped his hands around the blade. Black mist erupted from his pores, swarming over the demonic steel like piranhas.
"Analyze it. Copy whatever you can. Don't worry about digesting the whole thing, just get the blueprints!"
[Understood.]
…
Ten seconds later.
Strout frowned. He reached out a gauntleted hand, feeling the connection to his sword growing strangely faint, as if it were being smothered.
"Hurry it up, Princess," the White Knight, Fina-blood, interjected. His voice was soft, bordering on effeminate, but underlined with boredom. "I sense a lot of trash approaching. They aren't a threat, but we have actual business to attend to."
"Mn…" Altrouge nodded, her interest waning slightly. "Fair enough. Finish him, Strout."
"Don't destroy the body. I'm short on toys."
Hearing the command, the four crimson pupils within Strout's helm glowed brighter. With a sharp gesture, a streak of black light tore through the mist and returned to his hand. The demon sword was back.
But Strout paused. The blade felt… lighter? The ominous weight of its curse seemed diminished.
Before he could ponder it, the mist swirled and dissipated.
Rimuru stood there. His clothes were in tatters, revealing the pale skin beneath, but he looked unharmed. And in his hands…
He held a massive, two-handed greatsword.
Pitch black. Wreathed in shadow.
Altrouge and Fina narrowed their eyes in unison. Strout actually stiffened.
That was… his sword?
…
"Right then. Round Two."
Rimuru lifted the massive blade with his right hand, his left snapping onto the hilt to secure a two-handed grip.
He looked up. The golden warmth was gone from his eyes.
In their place was a glowing, mechanical crimson.
System: Online.
The Great Sage had assumed direct control.
Using a greatsword required technique, leverage, momentum, stance. The Great Sage didn't have "technique" in the traditional sense. It couldn't replicate the centuries of muscle memory a master swordsman possessed, nor could All of Creation analyze skills hidden by Mystery.
But Rimuru trusted the AI implicitly.
It didn't need style. It had physics. It had absolute reaction times, perfect trajectory prediction, and total biological control. It wouldn't waste a single calorie of energy. Every twitch of a muscle fiber was calculated for maximum output.
When a Level 60 player with no gear challenges a Level 90 boss with full raid equipment, there is only one way to win:
Extreme micro-management.
Rimuru bent his knees. The concrete beneath him didn't crack; it disintegrated.
Reinforcement: High-Speed Mobility.
Zoom!
His petite frame vanished, turning into a blur of motion that caused even the vampires' eyes to widen.
He's attacking?
He knows he can't defend against Strout's power, so he's fighting for the initiative?
Strout spun around, black flames roaring to life. He didn't have time to question why the boy was holding a perfect replica of his weapon. His killing intent locked onto Rimuru's signature, his four eyes tracking the blur.
Too bad. Today, you learn that the gap in raw stats cannot be bridged by tricks.
….
+20 chapters on my p@tr3on: Kazuma_trash
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