A month had passed since my cabinet meeting. Today I was once again back in my Control Center, keeping up on my imperial observations.
With all our intelligence being gathered here, Benimaru and I were basically living in this place. We still went back home at night, though. For all I knew, if I left the Control Center unoccupied, Veldora and Ramiris might turn it into their secret hideout. I built that retreat for myself, and I wanted it to be used. Benimaru was keeping up appearances, too, so I imagined he was resting in his quarters as well—not that I needed to worry about that sort of thing, I just didn't want my top commander collapsing from exhaustion before the final battle.
We had staff assigned to the Control Center at all times by this point—three shifts running the complex twenty-four hours a day during wartime. I wanted to be sure nobody was overworked. Managing our health, at least, was something I wanted to be thorough with.
Of course, my comrade Veldora was not a concern of mine on that front, and neither was Ramiris. Both of them got ample rest without me having to remind them—or really, they went out and screwed around all the time. They were excited about the war at first, but after a month of no movement, they seemed utterly bored with it. They were selfishly back in their own research lab now, telling me to inform them if something happened. Ah well. They'd just get in the way of things regardless, so I let 'em do what they wanted.
Right now, the top brass in the Control Center was Benimaru, Soei, and me, along with my secretaries Shion and Diablo. Geld was there, too; I shouldn't forget about him. I felt bad about halting his construction projects for so long. I really wanted to get this war over with fast, before Frey started getting really
mad.
But that, of course, depended on my opponents. In war, the attacking side held the initiative; if the opponent never showed up, you couldn't fight even if you wanted to. The Empire's tank battalion, which I assumed would enter the scene in around twenty days, was moving far slower than expected. In fact, they seemed to be crawling along on purpose, trying to show off their might as they advanced. My Argos magic system kept a watchful eye on them day and night, but if you'd never seen a tank before, I'm sure they looked like terrifying creatures. Even a real monster was still gonna be afraid of giant, horrible opponents, and the magic beasts ranked A or below in the forest had already fled far away from the advancing imperial force.
So where were they? Well past their borders, that's for sure. Entering our nation without permission was fully against international law, as enacted by the Council of the West, but the Empire never did play by the rules. With things as they were, the question was how we could strategically take advantage of this. We could use it as a cover to stage a surprise attack…but we really did need to try talking at least once, I thought. There would be an order from the Empire to surrender, I understood, so until we could reply, I wanted to hold off on any attack.
"I know it's too slow of us, but we haven't finished our own preparations yet. I see no need to attempt to deceive them. We will decide everything in the first battle regardless."
Benimaru agreed with me, not looking particularly concerned. So a bit relieved, I watched over our continued preparations for the anti-Empire war.
Finally, all those days of waiting were about to come to a close. The Empire had stopped advancing and begun to assemble into formation. They were no fools—they had zero intention of fighting fair and square from the beginning, it would seem, so apart from the tanks, they had brought platoons of infantry into the forest as well. Vast numbers, in fact. Their total number had exceeded seven hundred thousand, around 70 percent of the Empire's entire force. We had known about this for days now, but it was worth going over again.
"Guess it's safe to assume this is the main force," I said.
"I imagine so," Benimaru agreed. "It appears they intend to trap the dwarven army, and their tanks are acting as decoys."
"So they're trying to avoid being pincered in as they advance into our territory. They're being remarkably careful, considering the size of this force."
The tank battalions seemed slow not because it was a show of force or whatever. They had a more important goal in mind—to attract our attention until they could get their main force of foot soldiers in position.
"Not that we didn't see through their schemes, of course. Having control over information puts us at quite the advantage," Benimaru said with a smirk.
"Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… Well played, Sir Rimuru. Dancing on your palm the whole time, were they not?"
Diablo, wasting no opportunity to praise me, also interjected. I was used to it by now, so I gave him a nod and a "Yep" for his effort. Figure out how Diablo's mind works, and he's actually really easy to handle.
"Regarding the imperial infantry, I think we slightly underestimated the threat they pose. Each one of the soldiers seems decently powerful enough, and we've seen nobody defect from their ranks. They are assembling at a site about nineteen miles away from Rimuru, the capital. That's where they are building a command headquarters and establishing their position."
Soei, attracting the attention of everyone else in the room, went into further detail. Moss, it turned out, had given him some valuable intel as well, intel that proved accurate beyond complaint. It was a nice complement to our Argos, and it gave us a picture-perfect map of the enemy's location.
"If they're this close to our throats, wouldn't it seem unnatural if we didn't react?" I asked.
"No, I wouldn't be so sure. They see themselves as the superior force here, and what's more, they are trying to keep their actions covert. Presumably, they're preparing to demand our surrender, then spring right into action."
"Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… I agree with Sir Benimaru. If I could add to his counsel: Nineteen miles is almost the perfect distance for the imperial army. Magic-based observation loses its accuracy at long range. They are safe from
any legion magic that might hinder all their forces at once. That, they believe, is how they are operating. It is hilarious to witness, but that is the best they are capable of."
Apparently my concerns were for nothing. I thought the Empire would suspect our lack of activity to be a trap, but here I was being told that the enemy absolutely believed we weren't on to them. The only remaining concern was the strength of this enemy infantry.
"So, Soei, how strong are these foot soldiers?"
Soei brought up their threat level, so they had to pack a punch. Depending on his response, I figured we might have to rework our plans.
"If I could give a broad evaluation using the traditional human-ranking system, they rank the equivalent of a B. There are many advanced troops who rank over A among them, and even the lesser troops wouldn't rank below C plus. Even compared to the knight corps of the Western Nations, I would call them quite a superior force."
Yes, that was more power than I expected. But in this world, wars were all quality over quantity. A bunch of B rankers was nothing to trifle with, but a single A rank would be far more dangerous.
…Of course, I didn't want to underestimate their abilities as a fighting force.
"So there are practically no emergency recruits among them? They're all career soldiers?"
"Right. From their training to the quality of their gear and tactics, they appear to outclass the Western Nation's knights. Even your Hellflare would have difficulty piercing their magical defense."
The way Soei put it, the imperial army had legion magic cast over them at all times. They were a truly impressive force, trained to the hilt, and a platoon of them would be the equivalent of an A in rank.
A force who truly worked as a team, such as Gobta's, could be a menace. It wasn't just the sum of each member's skill; it was more like exponential growth. If twenty or so of them deserved an A, simple arithmetic meant we had to fight against thirty-five thousand of these A-ranked threats. Frankly, we couldn't let
our guards down. They were a pretty dangerous foe.
"Ah, we'll be fine. That's what the Dungeon is for."
"Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… Force them to scatter inside the Dungeon, and it'll be easy to destroy the enemy before they unleash their full force. Everything is just as you anticipated, Sir Rimuru."
Not really, no. It just meant fending them off inside the Dungeon turned out to be the best strategy of all. But depending on the enemy's war power…
Wait. Hang on. Something dawned on me: No matter how much power the enemy brought with them, this interception strategy was valid either way. Inside the Dungeon, it was possible to disperse their forces as we concentrated ours. That was why, if you really wanted to conquer the Dungeon, you had to do it with small teams of elites, or you had no chance. Raphael strikes again, I thought.
"You know, looking back, I'm really glad we have Ramiris here," I couldn't help but blurt out. Benimaru agreed with me.
"We'll keep our city from being damaged, and it'll be a breeze to maintain our advantage. As a military commander, she's the last person I'd want as my enemy."
He could give frank praise like this precisely because she wasn't around to hear him. If he complimented her in person, she'd be sneering and bragging to him all day. Regardless:
"So it sounds like we've got no problems, but how is Gobta's force doing?"
My magic was currently powering a set of large screens in the Control Center, displaying scenes from multiple points. One shot depicted the area near the Dwarven Kingdom. Two thousand tanks were there, all in neat formation. They, too, were located around nineteen miles away from the central entrance, the closest access to Dwargon's capital—exactly where we predicted they'd be.
My main concern was the capabilities of these tanks. Their turrets were pointed straight at the large main gate, one I had visited many times by now. These so-called magitanks, or whatever, were supposed to be stronger than the tanks I was aware of from Earth. Perhaps those cannons had more range than
those from my old world. I sincerely doubted their fire could actually reach the gate, but…
In the public square on the other side of the gate, Gobta's and Gabil's forces were on standby. Both were leading their respective troops, diligently performing their duties. There were no unexpected skirmishes along the way, and the residents of the inn town were already fully evacuated. Now, as planned, Gobta's and Gabil's soldiers had rendezvoused here to serve as Dwarven Kingdom reinforcements.
"The Dwarven Kingdom has accepted Gobta's and Gabil's forces. This will be a united front, so they have not given up their command," said Benimaru.
I wasn't worried about that, since Gazel already gave us his permission, but it looked like the dwarven army kept their promises.
"Sounds like there's no problem, then."
"I have my concerns about how well they'll mesh with the dwarven force…but if the Tempestians attack, and the dwarves focus strictly on defense, I imagine things will turn out well."
A military situation like this ran the risk of a jumbled, confused chain of command. Being a joint effort between armies of differing nations, they'd have to decide whose orders took first priority. If Benimaru was there, he could use his Born Leader unique skill to force his command on them all; even in a battlefield where allies and enemies were mixed among one another, with that they'd never have to worry about accidental friendly fire. With the dwarves on the scene, however, things could potentially end in chaos. Therefore, strictly dividing responsibilities between offense and defense would actually make things more efficient.
"Maybe I'd better talk things over with Gazel one more time, just in case."
"Indeed, with the Empire deploying, there is little time left before the start of hostilities. It's about time for us to deploy as well, so would you like to contact him to make your final confirmations?"
Benimaru seemed to agree with me. So without hesitation, I reached out for our newly installed contact terminal.
This contact terminal was a magical telepathic device that Vester had invented. The great thing about it was that it could convey not only voice but visual information as well. It was shaped like a desktop computer, complete with a monitor, mouse, and keyboard—well, not a mouse—more like a palm size crystal ball. The terminal activated when you touched that ball. After that, just point out the person to contact among the figures etched into the keyboard, and you'd be connected to them.
We kept it to a simple design so anybody could use it, although it did have its flaws. I said it conveyed visual information, but these were more like thoughts reconstructed in your brain. In other words, when you were jacked into your contact terminal, anything you thought could be picked up by the other side.
This was the same fundamental concept as Thought Communication, and while I was used to it enough that I could shut out extraneous thoughts, newbies might wind up unintentionally leaking intel. Any wicked ideas you came up with could come through loud and clear to your partner… And forget about hiding any secret intentions. I definitely wouldn't use this terminal to go cruising for dates. The average, untrained person was better off using the device's audio functions only.
But hey, they'll address that in version two.
"Hello? This is Rimuru. Is King Gazel there?"
I began with "Hello" in this world, too, as if that was the only logical option. It was too much of a habit to drop by now, so I didn't hesitate. But thanks to that (much to my bemusement), it had already become established contact-terminal etiquette.
"Hello. I will call for His Highness. Would you mind waiting a few moments in the meantime?"
"All right."
I could hear panicked activity on the other end. I'm sure they had someone trained in handling the terminal, but hearing my name must've unnerved the person on the other end a bit. If the CEO of my old company called my desk
phone out of nowhere, I'd probably be freaking out, too. Maybe I should've been a little more considerate.
"How rude to keep Sir Rimuru himself waiting!"
Shion was fuming about it already. If that's what you think, maybe I should've had you make the call, huh? Because I think that kinda falls under the job description of a secretary, doesn't it? But Shion never touched the contact terminal, and the reason was simple: She didn't know how to use it. Or maybe not that, exactly. I kept teaching her how it worked, but her thoughts were apparently too strong for the device to handle. Ever since she blew out one terminal, she'd been kinda reluctant to try again… So really, she had no right to complain.
"Personally, instead of relying on some gadget like this, I'd use Spatial Transport to meet the man himself. In fact, I could bring King Gazel here, but what do you think?"
Diablo was being his usual Diablo-ish bossy self, but I wasn't too concerned. The king had his own business, no doubt, so it'd be more polite to set up an appointment first. It was my fault this time for calling him out of nowhere. It was natural that I'd have to wait a bit—and unreasonable to get angry at all about it.
"Well, if Sir Rimuru called for me without warning, it would be difficult not to panic. I sympathize with the dwarf over there."
Hearing Geld say that, I silently wished some of that common sense would rub off on Shion and Diablo.
In not even three minutes, I heard from Gazel.
"Sorry for the wait. I was just thinking I should contact you before long."
Gazel's voice boomed from the speaker adjacent to the monitor. There was no image. Raphael was handling all the operations for me, so I could transmit whatever video I wanted—but Gazel was still getting a grip on this, so he was probably sticking to audio only. Smart choice.
"Ah, good. I just wanted to confirm with you one more time about the way we'll divide up roles in our united force."
"Mmm, yes. That is important, but before that, I need to inform you of something. The Eastern gate into Dwargon is being blockaded by the Empire's force."
Just as Gadora had warned. That was probably the force led by Yuuki. "Yes, we have it on-screen here. I'll send it to you."
I pointed the Argos system toward imperial lands. It was a long distance, with a magical barrier in the way as well, so the image wasn't exactly clear—but we could still see a crowd blocking the highway leading to the East gate.
"It's just like you told us, isn't it? When I heard about the enemy defector, I suspected it was a trap, but perhaps we can trust that man a little."
"Oh, I don't know yet. There's no doubt that Gadora's given up on the Empire, but I'm not sure I'd trust him right now. There's every chance he's being used without being aware of it, too. I'd keep a watchful eye on him."
"Ha! Tell me how you really feel, then! I'm quite glad to hear that from you."
Gazel flashed me a joyful smile. I guess he was testing to see if I was on my guard. He never stops playing the "old training partner" card with me.
"Now, Rimuru. The envoy I sent to the Empire is just being given the runaround by them, it seems. By our laws, Dwargon can launch the first attack only as a last resort. That's a disadvantage for us, but we dwarves pride ourselves on it, and so we must wait for the Empire to act. You don't need to join us in that credo, but what are your plans, exactly?"
Gazel's smile rapidly dissolved, replaced with a look of concern.
How should I interpret his intentions here? I turned my eyes to Benimaru. He returned my gaze with an easy smile. We didn't even need to exchange words, so tuned in we were to each other. I exhaled, straightened myself up, and turned back toward the monitor. Watching the totally blank screen, I tried to sound as formal as possible.
"The imperial forces have invaded our territory without warning or permission. We cannot shut our eyes to this, and we are considering strong measures in response, including military options. Along those lines, as part of our alliance, I wanted to confirm your compliance with these measures."
That sort of thing.
Benimaru seemed satisfied with it. Shion happily nodded. Geld was virtually quaking with excitement, and Diablo was giddily taking down notes about something or other. I had no idea what he was writing or what he was going to do with those notes, but I was sure it was nothing good. Resolving to seize those from him afterward, I waited for Gazel's response.
"Mmm! You're starting to sound more like a king every day. Excellent. You invited them so deep into your territory because you intended to intercept them here from the start, didn't you?"
"Of course. We could have fought them at the border, considering the potential damage to our town…but if we do that, they might try framing it as self-defense against a monster invasion or something later on. If they're in our lands, that stops them from claiming that, and it instills a sense of danger in the Western Nations, too. We've already evacuated our citizens, and by this point, we've got just cause to strike."
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! I like your force of personality, but I have to take points off for revealing all that."
Gazel laughed at me. He was the one who prodded me about it, and this was how he thanked me? But he wasn't done yet.
"Be that as it may, I don't want anything slogging us down. With our militaries in particular, we can't afford to have any discord. So let me spell it out for you. I am going to leave our negotiations with the Empire to the Jura-Tempest Federation. If, after that, you decide open warfare is the option to take, then let the Armed Nation of Dwargon act on their alliance with Tempest and join the fray! And to avoid command-chain confusion during the war, we in Dwargon will focus strictly on defending our lands. Is that all right with you?"
Ooh. That was a clearer answer than I expected. I thought that since the Dwarven Kingdom had a position of absolute neutrality, they wouldn't dare to interfere unless they were invading our territory. Benimaru and I had anticipated that as well, so I accepted the proposal without particular alarm.
"Thank you. I feel a lot better hearing that."
"Don't be silly. You must have expected this to happen from the beginning. It's the safest tactic, to be sure, but if our alliance forces ever run into trouble, at least we're justified to take action now. If you ever need us, feel free to tap our resources."
Ah, how reliable of him. I had the backing of Dwargon, a nation undefeated for a millennium, and just having a place to run to in the event of defeat was enough to give me peace of mind in this fight.
"All right. We'll send off our envoy as planned."
"We will need to divide our forces between Central and the East in order to protect them. It's in our own interests to keep our army on the defensive, too. And be careful. This new 'tank' weapon is a complete question mark on the battlefield. Even looking at the Empire's equipment, something tells me that the age of the sword may be coming to an end. Forgive me for putting you in such a dangerous role."
Gazel, perhaps out of concern, added that statement. No, I sure couldn't tell him to rest easy. As he said, we didn't know how these magic tanks performed. So I decided to give him a warning, even though I didn't think it was necessary.
"Based on my own knowledge, I am aware of a weapon called a tank from my own world as well. They use controlled explosions of gunpowder to send metal shells flying through the air. It's a simple principle, although the mechanism it runs on is a lot more complex—but with their power, range, and accuracy, it's an incredible weapon, I think. If these Empire made magitanks run on a similar setup, there's a chance that current tactics can't handle them."
Gazel was right. The age of the sword would soon be over, and it was likely to bring about an even more violent battlefield.
What would happen if you used magic instead of gunpowder to send shells flying? I had Raphael simulate that for me, and the results were terrifying. It turned out that, depending on the spell invoked, you could create a magical artillery shell (a magishell?) that was overwhelmingly more powerful than what a tank, the epitome of modern Earthly science, could launch. And we're talking a massive weapon, too…
"Are you telling me that magic defenses won't work?"
"Exactly. You'd need a full Magic Barrier to fend it off. And given the power involved, you'd need to redouble your defense with things like trenches and earthen walls."
"I knew it. I suppose all of us think the same way. We, too, have been working on a 'magic-armor-soldier' project to prepare us for the new era. They might've beaten us to the punch, but it's not like we have any right to complain, eh? So can we beat them, or what?"
A tough question to answer. All I could give him was this:
"It's not a matter of 'can we' or 'can't we,' really. We're just going to! That's all I can tell you."
The words seemed to satisfy Gazel just as much as my friends here.
"Heh… Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Well, ain't that reassuring! Best of luck out there!"
"We're on it!"
That's how I ended my exchange with Gazel. As final confirmations went, I thought it was pretty good.
"That's all the confirmation you need, right?"
"It will suffice. We have a pledge from him that we can do whatever we like."
I nodded my agreement with Benimaru. The time had come. Now that we'd reached this point, we didn't have to wait for the Empire to make a move. We were all ready to go here, so why not kick things off officially? Justice was on our side. The imperial forces had invaded deep into the Forest of Jura—that was demon lord territory, and there was no sugarcoating that.
Now we needed to negotiate things so we'd look like we were panicked and definitely not aware of every single thing they were up to. So who to order for it? Gobta and Gabil weren't exactly proper diplomats, and more importantly, they weren't very good negotiators. Especially Gabil… Looking back to our first encounter, I'm never gonna send him on any envoy work. So I decided to order Testarossa out. With her, at least, I knew she wouldn't get killed if the Empire decided to shoot first and ask questions later.
Maybe it was all a farce, but we did need to offer a promise. I think it's just fine to launch a preemptive attack without saying anything, but when you're a demon lord, the way you act kind of matters. So I sent off a Thought Communication to make the order.
As Rimuru and Gazel were talking on their contact terminals, Gobta's First Army Corps (with around twelve thousand soldiers) and Gabil's Third Corps (around three thousand) had gathered together behind the grand gate into the Dwarven Kingdom, approximately fifteen thousand in all. They had not entered the cave itself but were camped in a large open square at the outer edge. The evacuation of everyone in the inn town was successfully completed, and now they were waiting for the Empire's next move. No messenger had come from the Empire yet, no surrender order ferried to them, but everyone gathered here could sense that the war was about to begin.
The dwarven army was also hurriedly preparing for combat. The Royal Order of Dwarves consisted of seven divisions, and two of them—the Engineering Division and the Magic Support Division—were busily reinforcing the main gate and erecting a temporary barrier. An earthen wall, built up with earth magic, could have a fire spell applied to it to instantly make it stouter than a brick equivalent; enhance it even further, and you had a virtual barrier of iron.
Thus, in a very fluid process, a tri-layer defense wall was built outside the main gate—and as work continued on it, the Royal Order's Heavy Strike Division sprang into action. The officers and soldiers were covered head to toe in magical gear, but despite that, they all nimbly lined up in formation. Some sort of event must have taken place…but Gobta and his army didn't pay it much
mind.
As the dwarves busied themselves, the First and Third Corps were all relaxing in their own ways. Gobta and Gabil were sitting on the ground, having a friendly meal together. Next to them, for some reason, there was a table setting, complete with an extravagant parasol. Sitting on its white chairs were Testarossa and Ultima, who appeared to be enjoying a little tea party.
They were being served by Veyron, looking every part like a staffer at a tropical resort. Despite his advanced age, his back was fully straight in an amazing, statuesque posture.
"Hey, y'know, this is really, really good! It feels so…manly, yeah? Great stuff!"
"Indeed, my goblin friend! I am just as satisfied. This delicate flavoring…and the more you chew, the more flavor seeps out of it. Truly a delight for the taste buds!"
Gobta and Gabil were offering high praise to a meal prepared by Zonda, Ultima's underling. It was a whole roast on the bone, like a cartoon snack for a caveman, simply seasoned with salt and herbs. This wasn't from the army's pantry; whatever it was, Zonda had gone out and hunted it himself.
"As a chef, it is a tremendous honor to have two army generals offer me such praise. My specialty is court palace cuisine, so this kind of camp food is out of my expertise. Please forgive me if anything displeases you."
With that, Zonda bowed gracefully and retreated to Ultima's side. His double breasted chef's coat was a Shuna-crafted masterpiece, made from hellmoth silk and dyed the same shade of light purple as Zonda's hair. It certainly made him stand out from the armor and military dress he was surrounded by. Even Testarossa and Ultima were sporting custom-made military uniforms; Testarossa was wearing pants, and Ultima opted for a skirt, but both were unmistakably army gear.
It was no surprise that Zonda stood out. He carried himself in an ever-so sophisticated way, one that seemed unsuitable for the battlefield. He certainly brought a touch of class to this camp, and by now, he was indispensable. He had been teaching many of the soldiers the finer points of camp cuisine, winning their hearts and stomachs, and being Ultima's direct underling gave
him a lot of freedom. Ultima being rather a free spirit herself, she had a lot of authority as an adviser to corps leader Gabil, and she wasn't afraid to use it. With her bold, proud demeanor, she had no problem overriding any and all complaints from the other demons. She was practically demonic royalty already, and only a small handful of people could dare offer a complaint to her.
"It's not to my taste. You're not offering enough dishes, either. I wish there was more variety."
"I think you've got a point there. Going with these roasts and this basic hot pot—it's just way too skimpy. You've come to know Shuna and Mr. Yoshida by now. Hone your skills and make yourself more useful to us!"
Unlike the effusive Gobta and Gabil, Testarossa and Ultima were not exactly fans.
"I'm deeply sorry," Zonda meekly replied, before Gabil spoke up.
"No, no, Zonda, not at all! And I'm sure Ultima completely approves of your skill! The problem, I imagine, lies not in the taste."
The sudden remark drew the attention of everyone around them. Testarossa looked intrigued, Ultima was peeved that someone was disagreeing with her, and Zonda was visibly shaken at the possibility that he just upset his boss. Veyron, meanwhile, was as unaffected as always.
Gobta, of course, ignored all this and asked a question.
"Huh. What d'you mean by that?"
"Ah, thank you for asking, Gobta! How to put it? My younger sister gripes at me all the time, you see. She keeps saying I should think about things from a more feminine perspective."
"What d'you mean by that?" Gobta asked again, taking a bite out of his roast.
"That's the thing, Gobta. Here we are, enjoying this meal, not worrying about whoever might be seeing us. But Testarossa and Ultima can't afford to follow our lead in that respect, no?"
Now Zonda understood what Gabil was driving at. It made sense to him. Until he obtained a physical body, food had never been a requirement for him—and so he had forgotten something quite basic. Good cuisine, after all, was about more than just taste.
"Gee, Gabil, that's a very good point! Not the kinda thing you normally say at all, either!"
"No, no, it's something I'm working on as well, you see. Of course, it's honestly more something Sir Rimuru taught me, but…"
Gabil began to spin an anecdote from when he asked Rimuru for advice not long ago. "Rimuru," he had said to him, "I want to be as popular with the women as you are. What do you suggest I do?"
"You're asking me that? Because, look, I'm still a virg—uh, never mind. Gabil, let me give you this piece of wisdom. If you want girls to like you, you gotta learn how to be delicate. Do that, and they'll naturally flock to you."
That, Gabil proudly explained, was what Rimuru had told him.
"Then I remembered what Soka told me. And it dawned on me that Rimuru was just advising me not to do anything a woman wouldn't like—the most basic of things!"
Everyone was impressed by Gabil's impassioned argument. Sir Rimuru strikes again, in a way. If he was overhearing this, he definitely would've blushed— good thing he wasn't around, then, because nobody else was going to stop
Gabil from prattling on about him.
"Lady Ultima, Lady Testarossa, please accept my apology. I promise I will do my best to meet your expectations the next time I cook for you."
With a graceful bow, Zonda stepped in front of Ultima and Testarossa and took a knee.
"Look at that. You've got quite a talented servant. And meanwhile, look at mine…"
"What are you talking about? Moss seems perfectly useful to me. And if Cien's working in your place, Testa, he must be incredibly good at paperwork, right? My servants are more about manual labor, so I envy you having someone you can assign those kinds of chores to."
"Well, Ult, maybe you're right. No point asking for what you can't have, though."
Testarossa and Ultima continued talking, all but ignoring the kneeling Zonda. Their attitude might've seemed cold to Gobta and the rest, but it was actually quite the opposite. Being at the pinnacle of demons as they were, they rarely even took any interest in other people, let alone praised them. Veyron and Zonda, fully aware of this, became noticeably nervous when their names came up—but at the same time, they felt a sense of elation, like their souls were set aflame, basking in the recognition their masters offered them.
But not everybody picked up on this.
"Boy," Gobta said, "it's tough being a lady, huh? Like, I guess they're asking you for that thing where you have to cut it into small bites so it's easier to eat, right? I get what Gabil's saying, but honestly, that's too much work!"
"Gobta, that's the sort of thing you should never say out loud, no matter how strongly you feel about it. It's the first step, you see, to becoming a gentleman. That—yes, that—was what Sir Rimuru taught me."
"No, no, I understand that, okay? But this is a battlefield. You gotta eat when you can and not ask for fancy stuff. As a corps leader, I think that's the right way to act around here!"
As long as I can eat, Gobta thought, what's it matter what it is? And given they were in a soon-to-be war zone, he felt justified pointing out how selfish it was to say something like that. The fact that he was appointed the leader of an entire army gave him a sense of responsibility—and what's more, he wanted to show his soldiers that he was just a bit cooler than all of them, or so he thought.
That's why he said it. And he was right. It was a perfectly valid argument. But sometimes, people just won't listen to the truth. And Gobta probably should have thought about that first.
"Gobta's a pretty funny guy! That was actually hilarious!"
"You said it. I'm so glad I'm assigned to him."
Ultima and Testarossa were all smiles. Their eyes, on the other hand, weren't smiling at all. Oh, man, thought everybody but Gobta, these demons are serious trouble.
"Wh-whoa, Gobta. Um, Commander Gobta? Let's keep it at that. I'm sure our intelligence officers understand, so…"
It was Gobchi, one of Gobta's aides-de-camp, who hurriedly stepped up to stop him. He knew Gobta enough to realize that his superior officer had no ill intentions; he was just expressing his honest opinion. To him, Gobta wasn't wrong about a thing. But in this world, being right wasn't enough to guarantee your survival. Some people simply didn't listen to valid arguments. As a goblin who knew how to read a social situation, Gobchi knew that Testarossa and Ultima were two people you did not want to get on the wrong side of. After all, common sense dictated that someone who enjoyed a little teatime on a battlefield was unconventional, to say the least.
Gobta, he said to himself, you really shouldn't be lecturing those two! And as he predicted, Gobta was in a terrifyingly dangerous situation. Testarossa and Ultima weren't angry or anything. They simply thought he was an interesting toy. But if a pair of Primal Demons thought of him as a toy, it meant nothing less than Gobta's life hanging in the balance.
But then a miracle happened.
"Hey, uh, Testarossa, you got a moment to chat?"
Rimuru chose this exact second to throw Testarossa a contact-terminal call. Gobta's life was spared for another day.
"Not a problem at all. What can I do for you, Sir Rimuru?"
Testarossa kneeled on the spot. Those around her immediately realized whom she was currently in "contact" with. It wasn't long before everyone else was on their knees, although Rimuru wasn't aware of that.
"Oh, um, wait one sec," he nonchalantly said before sending a Thought Communication Gobta's and Gabil's way: (Are we connected now?)
(Yes, sir!)
(I am on the line as well, my lord!)
They both sensed Rimuru nodding. But the next thing he said surprised them all.
"I've just finished a meeting with King Gazel. We decided that the Tempest forces would take the lead against the Empire, but before that, we're gonna go to the bargaining table with them."
He really wanted to launch a preemptive attack, he explained, but before that, they planned to reach out and offer them a chance to surrender. Then Rimuru went on to explain his arrangement with Gazel, Testarossa and the others listening in without interrupting. Once he was done:
"So, Sir Rimuru, you'd like me to represent you in that negotiation?"
The ever-perceptive Testarossa spoke up first. She was confirming it for politeness's sake, but in her mind, it was already settled business. The problem, then, was how to entrap the Empire.
"Ah, yeah, I would. As a diplomat, I'll let you keep your authorization to act with my full powers if need be. You may also consult with me any time via Thought Communication, and you'll still have the same status as a corps commander, so I want you to work with Gobta and Gabil to get the job done."
"As you wish."
Although she and Ultima were currently deployed as observers, Testarossa
was also the commander of the Western Deployment. That army wouldn't have a role to play this time, but it was still one of the largest in Tempest. In terms of rank, that put her on par with Gobta and Gabil, so she made the perfect candidate for an emissary to the Empire.
"Right. Great. Now, I imagine you're gonna be exposed to some danger in this job, but are you okay with that?"
Rimuru seemed concerned, but Testarossa had already gleefully accepted the post.
"Nothing wrong with that, no. I will gladly show the ignorant citizens of the Empire the full majesty of your glory."
"Okay, um, cool? I mean, I'd like to avoid war if possible, but I don't think that's gonna be doable this time, so…"
"So we will declare the Empire our enemies and lay waste to it, then?" "…Huh?! Well, like, I guess, but—"
"Then leave this negotiation to me, Sir Rimuru. If they are foolish enough to reject your merciful ultimatum, they do not deserve to breathe for another minute. I will destroy each and every one of them."
Testarossa was ready to kill. It visibly dismayed Gabil. I'd much rather not have this terrifying woman in my life, he thought. Gobta, on the other hand, was still running on Gobta time.
(I don't think you have anythin' to worry about, Sir Rimuru. Testarossa's just talking a big game because she's excited for her first trip to the battlefield. I'll be supporting her every step of the way, so we're rock-solid over here!)
It was a bold declaration for someone as socially oblivious as him. (Wait, you'll join her?!)
(Of course! I'm commanding an army; I got a responsibility to uphold, and part of that job is to keep our more vulnerable women protected.)
Gobta stuck his chest out proudly at the stunned Rimuru. Even Testarossa had to chuckle a bit.
This goblin… He's a fool, but I can't hate him for it.
Being misunderstood to this extent even made Testarossa want to laugh it off. The fact that he totally failed to notice that she wasn't even trying to hide her brutality… He was a real my-way-or-the-highway guy, she had to admit.
(…All right. Then I'll send Ranga over as well, so both he and you can be Testarossa's bodyguards. If the Empire agrees to our demands, then great. If they don't, it's gonna be war right then and there, so try not to die on me, okay?)
(I'm on the job, Sir Rimuru. I got a lot of experience running from my opponents, y'know!)
(Ah yes, you do, don't you? Then go make me proud, Gobta!)
With that, Rimuru shut off the Thought Communication. The monster armies now had their marching orders. Everyone fell quiet, collecting their thoughts…
"All right, we're finally up! Let's get this camp cleared out and get moving!"
Gobta's command roared across the cave—and with it, the monster army began moving as a single entity.
As I gave the order to Testarossa's group, the main thought on my mind was Hmm, this isn't exactly what I was expecting…
Part of me began to wonder if they thought we were being too hasty but couldn't say anything about it. Which, I mean, I get it. If you want to be all majestic as a demon lord, it's not natural to act like you're freaking out. I think I handled that the right way with them, but I couldn't be sure.
Still, it's amazing how much I can count on Testarossa. She's such a refined woman, and I was confident she'd make sure the Empire knew just how dignified a ruler I was. She said she was going to annihilate the imperial army, but I wondered if she was serious about that? She couldn't be, really…? But then again, she and Diablo are like two peas in a pod. That made her a big handful for me, too, and it made me realize she was probably being serious.
These Primals are extremely dangerous. Maybe I should stop her… Ah, but it's
too late for that, isn't it? This is war. You'll have all the time in the world to pity your adversary after you win.
Besides, I was already seeing some unexpected benefits there. By that, I'm talking about Gobta's growth. Maybe it's because I'd put him in a position of responsibility, but I could tell he was making a serious effort to live up to it. He really became a man, I guess, and the more he grew, the easier things would be for me. I wanted him to keep up the good work, but I was afraid he might step on a land mine pretty soon. Yes, it had been fun to watch as a spectator, but before Testarossa got really angry, I thought maybe Gobta oughtta be let in on the joke.
With this in mind, I spoke up.
"Ranga, you there?"
"At once!"
Ranga popped out from my shadow, tail wagging and looking all cute. I had an urge to sidle up and take a nap in his fluff, but I had to hold back.
"Ranga, team up with Gobta and protect him if anything happens."
His tail froze mid-wag. After a moment of silence, he replied, sounding rather dejected.
"…I understand, my lord. When do you want me to leave?"
He was kind of acting like a kid who didn't want to go on a car trip. It didn't take more than a moment's thought to realize what he was thinking, but my orders remained unchanged. As long as we didn't know what the Empire was fully capable of, Gobta—and Gobta alone—remained a concern of mine.
"Right now, if you could, please."
"I am off, then…"
With a hangdog look (pardon the pun), Ranga padded off. Did he hate being away from me that much…?
"Thanks. I'm counting on you, okay? Gobta's gotten a lot more reliable lately, but I'll feel so much better if you're there for him!"
I felt kind of like a heel, but for now, I needed him to pitch in. So I gave him a few more parting words, and he immediately reacted:
"Leave this to me, my lord!"
Now he seemed to be glowing with motivation. His footsteps, languid up to now, were accelerating into a brisk trot. He can cast Spatial Transport anyway, so I was sure he'd make it to Gobta and the gang before they departed. Quite a relief.
"So we're gonna be negotiating with the Empire, but it's all but guaranteed our talks are gonna break down. Once they do, we plan to declare war on the spot and start fighting immediately. In which case, how should we position our forces…?"
By the sound of Testarossa, we were definitely about to have war on our hands. I'd really like to avoid it, but it's impossible. If they've marched this deep into our lands, I sincerely doubted they'd go back without doing anything. At the very least, we'd need to tango with them one time, in order to show off our powers. But we were facing a tank battalion, an unknown force. An ill-advised strategy could seriously cost us.
We had to decide on our plan carefully. And that was exactly the moment when Benimaru would come into play.
"If Testarossa's negotiations lead to war, our city will be immediately isolated inside the labyrinth," he told me.
"In that case, we'd better call Ramiris."
"Indeed. We've come this far. The war is about to start. I don't think she's going to be bored much longer."
I feel it's wrong to think of war as entertainment, but… This is where a monster's way of thinking differs from a human's, I suppose.
"So?"
As we planned, our city would be protected by the labyrinth, the world's best defensive structure. We'd be fighting on our turf, and I'd like to believe that gave us the initiative. The problem was Gobta's force.
"If you think about it, the two forces are well out of proportion with each other. But at the same time, the enemy is amassed into a gigantic ball, and along those lines, we can think of these tanks as a single monster. If anything, we have the advantage."
That, and as Benimaru confidently explained, the supply troops who came with the tanks didn't really even count as hostiles. I wasn't so sure about that, but his self-assured words were very convincing. I decided to hear him out.
"However, if we deploy our forces too widely, they might fall victim to the tanks' fire. I made a calculation of their estimated power based on the knowledge you shared with me, Sir Rimuru, and the results convince me that the Green Numbers won't be able to stand up to it. Thus, for our first sortie against the Empire, I'd like to deploy the Goblin Riders alone."
Huh? Isn't that a bit harsh?
"You want to challenge them with only a hundred mounted forces?"
"That's right. We will begin with that, to see how things go. If the enemy's tanks are as I predict, we can win if we send the whole army into battle, but if they exceed our expectations, we will have to rethink our strategy at that point. So either way, we have to try to fight them, and when we do, I don't want to needlessly rack up casualties."
Benimaru coolly laid it out for me. As he put it, the goblins would be used as a touchstone—and if things really went south, Gobta and his Riders would wind up sacrificial lambs. But Benimaru was unfazed. In fact, he made this cold, calculated decision precisely because it'd be the most efficient thing to do.
"So what'll happen to them in the worst-case scenario?"
"I've told them to use Shadow Motion to retreat as they see fit."
Aha. And there was another reason why he couldn't deploy the Green Numbers, huh? Benimaru was making his estimates of the tanks' performance based on my memory—or my knowledge, I guess. But everything I knew about tanks had come from what I'd seen on TV, essentially, so it was all pretty vague. But I also had a powerful ally in Raphael, so as vague as my knowledge was, I thought I was able to give Benimaru some pretty accurate specs.
In addition to that, we already had visual confirmation of what the Empire's tanks looked like. We knew the length and caliber of their guns, and we were also aware of the sub-weapons they were equipped with, a bit like machine guns. They manufactured these with otherworlder expertise, I'm sure, so it should be similar in operation. Their power and performance were unknown, but as we figured, if we just paid attention to the stuff we should be wary of, it'd all work out.
Benimaru's estimations and Raphael's calculations were within the margin of error to each other. It was safe to say that Benimaru's plan was the right way. It was certainly better than anything an amateur like me could come up with anyway.
His plan was as follows: First, as soon as the battle begins, the one hundred strong Goblin Rider cavalry will charge in unison. They'll take advantage of their high-speed maneuverability, using erratic movements to give the tank guns no chance to aim. In this way, they should be able to avoid direct hits. Given their small size, they'll be able to nimbly respond to any situation; in fact, if they're lucky enough, they could use a stick-and-move approach to toy with their foes.
Hearing all that, I was convinced. If you're scared, Benimaru apparently told Gobta's team, you lose. Of course, you never knew what would happen on the battlefield. The enemy might try pulling something wild on us, and there was every chance they'd score a lucky hit or two. I know he said that nobody's gonna die as long as they don't score a direct hit, but you never know until you pop open the lid. That was why we had to make sure everyone understood to retreat immediately in an emergency.
"But running away, keep in mind, is the last thing any of us want to do. I'd never allow them to sully your prestigious name, Sir Rimuru."
Now I was more afraid of Benimaru than the Empire.
"Well, don't make them do anything rash, okay?"
"I'm afraid that's impossible. In war, if you want to win, it's the polite thing to give it your all."
Benimaru briskly smiled at me, no hesitation on his face.
That was cool and all, but I had mixed feelings. I understood his point of view, but he was making it sound inevitable that someone was gonna get whacked out there. I don't really give a crap about my prestige. Having it helps keep my nation's name protected and all, but if we got ourselves killed to save our good name, wasn't that defeating the purpose? Like, I just didn't wanna see any of my friends hurt, so…
Well, let's just assume the worst and make sure the Third Corps is on standby, ready to be transported in at any time. If I was fighting this myself, I thought with an uneasy look in my eye, I'd never have to worry about any of this.
Lieutenant General Gaster, Caligulio's confidant and leader of the Armored Division, was commanding the Magitank Force for this expedition. He was a muscular and fearless man in his midthirties, and right then he was on the rear guard, sitting back in his state-of-the-art command vehicle and enjoying the atmosphere of the battlefield. The forest around him was as unchanged as always, with nothing to block their way.
Gaster, who had grown accustomed to this scenery, began mulling over the fame he would gain from this battle. I'm going to defeat the Armed Nation of Dwargon, an impregnable fortress for over a thousand years—and Gazel himself, the Heroic King. How thrilling can this get?
In his mind, he envisioned all the people cheering for him. It'd be the birth of a new champion who would go down in history as one of the greatest of all time. Just dreaming about it made Gaster's heart soar. The man who defeated Gazel, the Heroic King, would have the epithet hero applied to him for eternity; it'd come in the not-too-distant future, guaranteed to happen. Gaster's Magitank Force had enough war power to make sure of that.
Two thousand of these magical tanks were now lined up, moving in well drilled unison. Their formation as they lumbered across the plains at the foot of the mountains was divided into twenty horizontal rows, each with a hundred tanks. It was a magnificent view, and Gaster couldn't have been happier to see it…but he was already falling into his opponents' hands. Each of these tanks was around thirty-five feet long by twelve feet wide—and with two thousand of
them out at once, they couldn't just go anywhere. Gaster deployed his troops in the exact location he had surveyed in advance, and that, it turned out, was exactly where Rimuru and his advisers had expected them to be.
Gaster had no idea this was going to happen, but he was an excellent soldier nonetheless. He was a lieutenant general, and as such, his personal combat skills were formidable. As he saw it, he was as good as any knight in the Imperial Guardians. The only reason I haven't been selected, he reasoned, is because I haven't had a chance to participate in ranking duels. Being in charge of a division like this is akin to being on military duty all the year through.
That irked him mightily. Of course, a lieutenant general is a high-ranking position; there were only a handful in the Empire, akin in social status to high ranking nobility. He was well out of reach of the common person, no doubt, but that wasn't enough to satisfy Gaster. Someday, he would replace Caligulio and become a full-fledged commander himself—and then he'd be a hero.
Gaster was an ambitious man—honor, not money, mattered to him. That was why he volunteered to wage the decisive battle against the Heroic King Gazel instead of conquering the labyrinth. And Gaster had more than enough ability to back up that ambition. He possessed the unique skill Performer, which gave him command over any sort of audio phenomena, allowing him to analyze situations in detail simply by listening to the sound around him. He could also use special sound waves to issue specific commands to people, leading his allies even in the middle of chaotic battle.
It was the greatest power an army officer could desire, but that wasn't all. Performer could also be used as a vicious attack. Gaster could manipulate sound waves and manipulate them at will, using a sonic cannon to destroy the very cells of his foes. Clearly, Gaster was one of the most powerful people in the Empire.
Pfft! The Guardians might be strong and all, but only if they bear the legendary gear granted to them by the emperor! I deserve those weapons and armor far more than any of them…
If he could only get his hands on that Legend-class gear, he confidently believed, he, too, could join the lofty ranks of the Single Digits.
Gaster's mind was occupied with all these fantasies, but he wasn't letting his guard down during this op.
Hmm? Something changing in the forest?
The sound around him suddenly stopped. It was the first time he'd ever experienced such a thing.
"Abort camp preparations and take cautionary positions!"
Upon giving the order, Gaster focused more intently, turning his attention to the forest to his left. The atmospheric sounds of birds and animals had disappeared; no insects were chirping at all. There was something tense in the air…that, and the sound of small footsteps, as well as that of leaves rustling closer and closer. It was far-off but moving quickly.
They're trying to take us by surprise. Not a bad move, but they picked the wrong foe to try it on.
Gaster chuckled to himself. Based on his analysis of the ambient sound, there were approximately a hundred figures approaching. They had intelligence that the demon lord's forces were gathering near the inn town, so they likely deployed out from there. It was proof positive that Caligulio's plans were working out well. The demon lord's inn-town forces had completely missed the main body of the imperial army. And when a seven-hundred-thousand-strong army weighs down upon that demon lord's throat, oh, the sheer panic they'd all experience! Just imagining the scene made Gaster smirk.
Now they were a bit over six miles away. Before much longer, they'd be in range of their magicannons. Those could fire up to nineteen miles away, at the expense of accuracy dwindling to near nothing; the actual effective range was more like one and a half or two miles. Of course, with the right type of explosive shells, you didn't need to worry about accuracy.
This enemy force was small—and concentrated in a tiny area. Perhaps they thought they could use the trees as cover, as long as they didn't go out in the open.
…Well, think again. First, let's give 'em a salute to liven things up. Their special ammunition was still in the prototype stage, so they could
prepare only two rounds, but the blast radius could extend up to a hundred feet or so. The power of that explosion was currently unmatched by explosive magic, generating tens of thousands of degrees of heat and a concussive shock wave that could deform the terrain itself. It was a one-of-a-kind weapon, one only available on Gaster's command vehicle, but he had no intention of saving it for a rainy day.
Without hesitation, he loaded it up and pointed the muzzle of his cannon into the forest. Then he barked out orders to his battalion; in the unlikely event that the enemy escaped, he wanted them to be ready to intercept.
"Left flank battalion, turn counterclockwise!"
The soldiers had been setting up tents for their encampment, but given that the Dwarven Kingdom was under twenty miles away, they were in a constant state of tension. As soon as they received the order from Gaster, they began calmly packing up the wagons the tanks were towing. It wasn't long before everyone was ready for battle.
Without another moment's hesitation, the left-wing battalion of five hundred tanks floated in the air, orienting itself toward the forest. Gaster and his men were ready—and as if waiting for that moment, a single monster appeared from the depths of the lush forest. It was wolf-shaped, with two horns growing out of its forehead, and its enormity was remarkable—a good sixteen feet long, making it look proportional to one of their tanks.
This has to be the Ranga monster reported by the IIB. They call him the demon lord's pet or some such nonsense, but supposedly he ranks an A-plus in battle…
That made him a big deal, then.
"Just one? What are they thinking…? Wait."
Gaster considered what this wolf's mission was. If he came alone, he's not here to fight. It's probably serving as some kind of warning. It figures… You want to protect your position as demon lord, so you can't take any half measures. Heh-heh-heh… You'll regret that.
As Gaster saw it, his enemy wanted to intimidate him with Ranga's towering presence, sapping his will to fight.
"It seems this Rimuru is quite a proud demon lord, isn't he? Trying to protect his lofty reputation by giving up the chance to surprise us?"
He let out a loud, ringing laugh. His officers quickly joined him, melting the anxiety among their soldiers. They were at just the right level of tension.
Ranga was close to them now, his steps relaxed. He was showing no sign of a fight; as Gaster suspected, he was here to negotiate. He finally stopped about thirty feet away, right in front of the lieutenant general and his team. A woman who had been sitting sidesaddle on him gracefully jumped off his back, making hardly a sound as she did. Then without a care in the world, she walked right up to Gaster's vehicle.
When he laid eyes upon her, this woman with beauty beyond what any human could possibly achieve, Gaster felt a chill run down his spine, like a dagger of ice had stabbed him.
…What? The sounds this woman makes… It's so strange.
There was the sound of a heartbeat, but it was playing an eerie melody. He could hear her blood flow as well, but it was both faster and quieter than that of a human being. Too fast, even. If someone's blood flowed that fast, it'd be far too much for the body to bear. Now Ranga didn't even register to Gaster. His eyes were squarely upon the woman.
Her long pure-white hair flowed beautifully, accentuating her beauty, but her body was clothed in a stern military uniform that poorly matched her looks. The bottom of it resembled a pair of riding pants, with the thighs loosely bulging out. There was someone else riding on Ranga's back, but he didn't even register to Gaster—that's how much the eerie presence of the woman had taken over his consciousness.
Who is she…? The IIB said nothing about her. Ranga's considered a high ranking official of the demon lord's, and this woman's far more dangerous than him!
Gaster felt justified in criticizing the Imperial Information Bureau. But there was no one here to complain to. More important right then was the fact that someone intimately close with the demon lord was here with him. So he spoke in a dignified voice to hide his overwhelming anxiety.
"You're an emissary from the demon lord Rimuru, aren't you? You contacted me quicker than anticipated, but I'm glad his officers are such thoughtful, talented people. So what is your business?"
The woman smiled sweetly at Gaster's question. "It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Testarossa, and I serve the great demon lord Rimuru, ruler of these lands. As for why I've come here today…"
After saying that much, the woman's smile widened. It was a smile of pure, unadulterated evil.
"I convey to you the words of my master: Leave here at once, and we will overlook this violation of our borders. But if you invade any farther, you will be shown no mercy."
Testarossa's bloodred eyes glowed as she made her statement. Gaster nervously gasped. He tried to say "Surely you're joking" or the like, but before he could, Testarossa moved—just a light wave of the hand, but at that moment, a wall of flames appeared just a couple feet in front of the tank battalion's first row. It was gone in an instant, but on the ground, the molten remains of the fire had formed a fine line of glass in the soil.
"Do I make myself clear? Cross this line, and your lives will be extinguished. If you are not prepared for that, stay where you are. Now, good day to you."
Testarossa gave the lieutenant general a graceful bow, then turned on her heels and walked away, as if she had lost interest in the conversation. It was her way of stating that the time for negotiating was over. Ranga, of course, was wagging his tail at her. Only the small figure swinging around on his back still took notice of Gaster, but Gaster himself no longer cared.
H-how dare you make fun of me! Who the hell do you think you're talking to?! And attempting such an obvious bluff in front of all this firepower!
He was furious, as if everything he ever believed in had been shattered, and it instantly cost him his composure. She had said what she wanted to say, and she hadn't given Gaster's side even a moment of her time—the kind of approach the Empire typically used on their foes. But receiving it back in kind had ignited Gaster's anger, and any fear he felt before had disappeared.
So he made the wrong decision. He was around fifteen feet away from Testarossa, who was now exactly halfway between him and Ranga.
Think I'll let you get away with this?
Gaster made up his mind. Courtesy to emissaries was not a concern for the Empire. If they surrender, fine. If not, prepare to be overrun with all our might. That was the Empire's motto, and since Testarossa just insulted the Empire with her attitude, that was more than enough reason to begin hostilities.
"Can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear, sir!"
"Shoot that cocky bastard's head off. After that, have the twenty tanks in front fire a simultaneous volley. Let's show the demons lurking in the forest the majesty of our empire!"
Secretly, Gaster used his Performer skill to lay down his orders. The first to react was the sniper attached to his command vehicle. Quickly, he lifted up his rifle and took aim at Testarossa—and then the long-range spellgun fired off a silent shot. This was an enhanced version of the standard magic-powered spellgun, its range extended to over a mile; at only a couple dozen feet away, she was as good as dead. The bullet inside was infused with the elemental magic Fireball—and what would happen if a bullet filled with that ripped into your body? Well before the target could think about it, they'd explode into flames, burning from the inside out. Even if a monster was naturally resistant to magic, that resistance often didn't extend to its internals.
There was no way to escape from a bullet traveling faster than the speed of sound, and Gaster was thus assured of Testarossa's impending death. But the moment the bullet was released and over the threshold, Testarossa turned around—her face so evil, and so beautiful.
Gaster's eyes widened in astonishment. The bullet that was supposed to pierce Testarossa's body was stopped by a single, delicate index finger. This was a bullet fired at three times the speed of sound, packed to the gills with magic force—but that magic never released itself. Instead, it was helplessly plucked out of the air and discarded, like she was playing with some cheap toy.
"So that's your answer? Well, lovely! A very fine one, too. Let's make it a fair fight, then."
With that, Testarossa joined Ranga, never looking back—and then they walked away, as if nothing had happened. Gaster almost fell into a panic, but he overcame it by sheer force of will. Fear and humiliation competed against each other in his mind, and humiliation won out. The rank-and-file soldiers had no idea what just happened; only he and the sniper accurately understood.
If that was how it was, time to continue as planned—and mow them down with the tank guns, their most powerful weapons. That was the best means he had to protect his pride as an imperial soldier.
"Lieutenant General, what should we do?"
"Don't fall back! Don't let her tricks and illusions deceive you! We are the glorious imperial army, and we will bring victory to His Majesty the Emperor! Begin the bombardment as planned…now!!"
Responding to Gaster's shouted command, the tanks deployed on the left flank went on the move. The warning had been abjectly ignored. The first row trundled forward in order to build space between themselves—and with that, the glass boundary line was broken.