The Magical Beast Division led by Commander Gradim, numbering some thirty thousand troops, took to the skies in their airships. The sight of Velgrynd's valor had kept morale high, and with the enemy right below them, they had a perfect target to exercise their violent impulses on.
"Listen up, all of you! His Excellency and Lady Velgrynd are personally on hand to catch sight of your exploits. You had best not disappoint them today. I want each and every one of you to be ready to fight!"
The officers and men serving Gradim responded to his shouted speech with a roar that shook the atmosphere. Gradim liked to see it. It was the perfect opportunity, he thought as he smiled to himself.
Heh-heh-heh… Maybe the world is no longer mine for the taking, but there's no doubt that my moment in the sun is here. Caligulio is defeated, and that boy Yuuki has failed. I will be the only general left, the greatest of field commanders…and if I perform well in this battle, that's exactly what I'll be!
From Gradim's point of view, the Western Nations weren't enough of an enemy to trounce. Hinata Sakaguchi looked like she'd put up more of a fight, but he still chided her as a half-wit who couldn't manage anything more than a draw against a newly minted demon lord.
Gradim had boundless confidence, and he had the hard-nosed fighting experience to back that up.
...…
...
…
Gradim the Beast King was the second most powerful man in the Empire. He
was born in the Beast Kingdom of Eurazania, which had remained a mere rumor for quite a while—and in fact, he was the half-brother of Carillon, the Beast Master who once led that nation. The beast inside Gradim was a proud, solitary white tiger—and, perhaps not by coincidence, he had such a notoriously selfish streak that he was judged unfit for the throne of Eurazania, long ago.
These damned pieces of garbage! They didn't even join me in the Empire, but now they team up with Carillon to plot rebellion against me? I will make very sure that they regret this!
Gradim had been building up this grudge for a long time, as inherently unjustified as it was. The previous king of Eurazania was not a skilled warrior, but he had a good eye for people. When he decided whether to make his first or second-born the crown prince, he made the choice based on who he believed was more qualified to lead others. That choice infuriated Gradim, to the point that he murdered his father the king over it. But in the ensuing fallout, he was subdued by Carrion and the Three Lycanthropeers and banished from the kingdom for all time. This "rebellion plot" was just a self-serving assumption on Gradim's part; the truth was quite the opposite.
Still, Gradim had survived to this day, a testament to his strength. He was a truly exceptional lycanthrope, and if only he had a more decent, approachable disposition, he could have been one of history's greats, with even Carillon marching to his drum. But that was all a what-if by now. Instead Gradim fled his homeland, wandering the continent, and that was when he met his most loyal of followers, the Three Generals.
Nazim, the Vermilion Bird, was a mutant harpy Gradim met while traveling through the Winged Nation of Fulbrosia. She had three pairs of wings, gray with purple spots, and although she had lost the ability to reproduce, she gained outstanding fighting strength in return. Her striking, Frey-like good looks attracted Gradim's eye, and his invitation to join him was the beginning of their romantic relationship.
Baraga, the Azure Dragon, was the master of an Arch Dragon—a Water Dragon, to be exact—that Gradim had defeated. He was a warrior getting on in years, but his abilities put him squarely in the middle of the Imperial Knights. Finally Gozaline, the Black Tortoise, had control over a lorelei, an exceedingly
rare rock sprite. A priestess from a foreign tribe, she enjoyed mastery over a variety of magical arts. She joined Gradim after he defeated her lorelei.
These Three Generals came from three different backgrounds, but they all had one thing in common—their strength. Nazim was demon lord–level, for example, ready to potentially awaken at any moment. And the monsters that served Baraga and Gozaline were both Calamity-level threats, putting the two of them at the head of the Magical Beast Division in fighting ability.
It was around three hundred years ago, after Veldora was sealed away, that Gradim settled down in the Empire. After surviving the Temma War, he was running a de facto bandit gang in imperial territory when he was defeated by a military strike force. Only when he swore to follow Emperor Ludora did he receive a pardon.
Gradim's mission was to defeat the Marshal so he could become number one across the Empire. Along the way, he wanted to take any opportunity he could to murder Ludora and take the throne for himself. In his mind, he had no particular favor to repay the emperor or anyone else. He only carried out their will because they were stronger; in the meantime, he constantly searched for the right opportunity to turn traitor against them.
With the help of the Empire, he would come to rule the world—and someday, he would name himself emperor and dominate all creatures. He could have such suicidal, reckless dreams only because he didn't know the Marshal's true identity.
Ludora and his close confidants could see right through Gradim's intentions. But he was strong, and that made him useful to them. They only kept him alive as long as he kept following their orders—a dangerous balance they had established simply because they shared enough of a common objective. Now, that had been shattered.
It can't be. I had no idea the Marshal was Velgrynd the Flame Dragon. I can't win against that kind of power. She is truly fearsome, well beyond even my strength.
This was truly something on a different dimension, something he discovered before he could ever hatch his plot. And for that stroke of incredible luck,
Gradim thanked the gods up above, even though he didn't believe in any of them.
...…
...
…
So Gradim changed his mind on matters.
He would need to defeat Velgrynd someday, he thought, but it would require careful, step-by-step preparation. Knowing that, he decided to focus on building his military name instead, for the time being.
Besides, if anything, this was expedient for him. Gradim's wild instincts were telling him that his awakening was near; intuitively, he knew he was close to attaining power greater than anything before it. The same was true for Nazim, who always fought alongside him. The exact conditions for awakening were uncertain, but the time was undoubtedly near.
That was another reason why Gradim was seeking out any battlefield he could find—and now, laid out before him, was a field full of victims to prey upon. How could he not feel intense joy at the sight of it? He saw a legion of worthy enemies across the battlefield, some giving the impression of massive powers… and the more he defeated, the stronger his faction would become.
"Heh-heh-heh… Let the merry feast begin!"
And just as Gradim expected—or even more so—the battle was growing more intense by the minute.
The Three Generals serving Gradim moved according to the purposes of their lord. Their eyes searched for the strong—and now they found it.
"Whoa, that's King Gazel. Beating him would most assuredly boost my fame."
"Trying to hoard the best pickings for yourself? You'd better leave something good for Sir Gradim, or you know what kind of mood he'll be in."
King Gazel's bravery was known far and wide; anyone who defeated him
would most assuredly become a dominant figure. Baraga's warrior heart raged inside of him.
But it was Nazim who felt obliged to stop him. Nazim knew that Gradim was on a personal hunt for King Gazel, so she advised Baraga to give it up. And besides:
Defeating Gazel would do wonders for Sir Gradim's power. There's no way we can let such a golden opportunity slip by us!
That summed up her true intentions—and even for Baraga, serving his master Gradim came first. Besides, Gazel was already wounded to begin with, and as a warrior, he feared being accused of cowardice. Best to play it safe, then, and defeat some handier enemy nearby.
"All right. Hopefully overwhelming King Gazel will help Sir Gradim grow in strength."
Gozaline smiled at Baraga. "Ee-hee-hee-hee-hee… Don't worry. You'll find many other stout foes here. Maybe not as many as you wished for, but you should find it satisfying nonetheless."
And she was right. The battlefield was crawling with powerful figures. Baraga nodded at his companion. There was no need to panic—and Nazim agreed.
"Tee-hee-hee… Sir Gradim is correct. I'm sure the time of awakening is close by indeed. I, Nazim the Vermilion Bird, am bound to be the first to become a true demon lord!"
"Aren't you trying to hoard the best pickings now, Lady Nazim?"
"Now, now, calm down. I'm sure we're all thinking the same thing. Sir Gradim can focus on King Gazel—and in the meantime, we can run as wild as we please!"
Nazim spoke for everyone present.
"I'll take that weakened lizard, then. The dragonewts are still quite alive and threatening, and I think he's their leader. Striking him first is bound to crush their will to fight."
"In that case, I'll take that sassy-looking lady over there. Anyone who flies
through the air without my permission deserves to be taken down a peg."
"Ee-hee-hee-hee-hee! And I will destroy that golem, then. Time to give it some personal insight on just how powerful a lorelei is!"
They declared their targets to one another, ensuring there'd be no overlap— and then the Three Generals set off for their prey. But it was the very definition of counting one's chickens before they were hatched.
Just as they predicted, Gradim was targeting Gazel. That was only natural for him. The strategical soundness of attacking the strongest first depended on the situation—but if that strongest had already been weakened beforehand, starting with them first was just common sense. Gazel was defeated by Kondo and still motionless—now was his best chance.
"I see you are King Gazel. I am Gradim—Commander Gradim, leader of the Empire's most powerful Magical Beast Division! And I have come to take your head!"
This was beyond cowardice. It was nothing short of truly despicable, in fact. But for Gradim, it was purely justifiable. The way his creed went, any means that achieved his goal were aboveboard.
So Gradim swooped down upon King Gazel—but there was someone in his way. It was Gabil the Dracolord, a dragonewt with reddish-purple scales that glowed with electricity—someone previously written off as down for the count.
"Gwah-ha-ha-ha! I have returned! And your disrespect for King Gazel cannot go unaddressed!"
"Tch… You'd better stay out of my way, you accursed lizard!"
Being interrupted so close to his prey greatly displeased Gradim. But in another moment, there were far more pressing things on his mind. Baraga the Azure Dragon, the one who was supposed to be handling Gabil, had been defeated in a single strike. And Gozaline the Black Tortoise, so eager and excited to face the Demon Colossus, was now in tears, her lorelei smashed to pieces. Only Nazim the Vermilion Bird was somehow managing to hold her own against Soka, the enemy she pointed out among the crowd.
Even the soldiers ordered to defend Gradim found themselves helpless
against this revived Gabil. The difference in strength was blisteringly obvious. So Gradim, having no other choice, tried to step forward himself. But just then, he received an urgent magical call from Major General Zamdo.
"W-we're in trouble! Reporting on the local situation—the demon lord Rimuru has done something terrifying. We must keep His Excellency safe at all costs, and so we're requesting reinforcements here at once!"
It really wasn't the time for this, Gradim thought, but he managed to swallow the words down.
"What happened?"
"He drew this giant…this impossibly enormous summon gate…" "What are you talking about?!"
"I'm telling you that he's summoned hundreds of demons, all Greater Demons or higher! And they've been given physical bodies, too. Each one is above an A in fighting rank, but now they're acting as an organized fighting force!!"
The frenzied concern in Zamdo's excited voice indicated just how unusual this situation was. But Gradim remained unconvinced. The demon lord Rimuru had done something, yes, but the Empire still had Velgrynd on its side. There was no way a rabble of demons could defeat her, so he failed to see what the big deal was. The real threat was right here—the force opposing Gradim—and he really wanted to focus on that.
"We're in the middle of a battle here. You're gonna have to handle it with what's available at hand."
Gradim practically spat out the words as he tried to end the call. But Zamdo's strained voice stopped him.
"But sir, we're dealing with a truly apocalyptic demon army! They're far stronger than regular imperial soldiers!"
"Nonsense! You've got both Lady Velgrynd and the Imperial Guardians with you!"
They had only one airship deployed over there—the imperial flagship—but it was manned by the very best forces of the Empire. Gradim couldn't see why
they couldn't do anything without his team on hand. That was natural enough of a reaction, and nobody near Gradim could blame him for it. This time, they had simply picked the wrong enemy to mess with.
"Yes, we do have Lieutenant Kondo and the Imperial Knights with us…but the demon lord's main officers are here, and we've got our hands full dealing with them all."
"Their main officers?!"
No way, thought Gradim.
He had assumed that the dragonewt before him was Gabil, a top official from Tempest. His strength was certainly a surprise, but looking back on it, there were a few other names mentioned in their advance briefing—Benimaru, Shion, Diablo, and Gobta. The "Big Four," as the demon lord Rimuru reportedly called them; but Gabil's name was not among them. That, Gradim concluded, meant all four were stronger than Gabil.
"And that's not all! I know it's hard to believe, but the demon lord Rimuru has committed an abomination that no one could ever have imagined. I know not how he did it, but he has evolved this entire army of demons! Do you understand me?! Hundreds of demons, powered up to the equivalent of Arch Demons!!"
This really was starting to transcend all common sense. Gradim didn't want to believe it, but Major General Zamdo wasn't the kind of man to joke around. He was serious, meticulous, and Gradim had no choice but to believe him. They now had several hundred Calamity-class monsters released on the battlefield.
"I see. Yes, Zamdo, I certainly understand your concern."
"Ah, thank you! So please, consider my request for reinforcements!" With that last sigh of relief, Zamdo ended the call.
Gradim pondered for a moment. Outnumbering your opponent meant nothing if you couldn't outclass them in quality. That was the law of war, and that was why Gradim took such great pains training his forces. If it were only demons, they might be able to manage well enough. But with two of his Three Generals down, it was dangerous to be optimistic—if it were Gradim's force alone, he'd just be marching them to their slaughter.
Tsk…! Did I make a tactical mistake, treating him as a "mere" demon lord? I may survive this along with the Empire's upper echelons, but we'd lose all of our rank-and-file soldiers to a man, no doubt. And if that's the case…
It was too late for regrets. All that remained was to do what he could. And Gradim still had one more forbidden skill to tap.
The members of the Magical Beast Division were true elites, all selected and trained by Gradim himself. They were hailed as a group of born leaders, descended from a bloodline of heroes that birthed legends since ancient times —but that had nothing to do with the truth. In fact, they were a set of artificial champions, crafted in a lab by a combination of magic and otherworld knowledge.
Each one of them was the equivalent of an A or higher in rank, the best of the best—but they were also granted partners, creatures whose biopolymer data was rewritten to endow them with extra, battle-specific abilities. This was manmade life, created by cultivating magical beasts in captivity and combining the various characteristics they exhibited into one. These pseudo-androids were known as "battle chimeras," and it was the lycanthrope Gradim who led research into them. It was through careful examination and analysis of his own transformation mechanisms that the researchers found ways to enhance those who served under him.
In this world, there were essentially no limits to research, no ethical or religious lines anyone felt it was taboo to cross. That was why they had achieved results like this in such astonishing speed. Thus it was through large scale experimentation on living slaves that the most powerful army Gradim had ever hoped for was born.
So these A-ranked champions and their battle chimera partners boasted unparalleled strength when they worked together…but their true value had yet to be demonstrated in public. The ultimate aim of Gradim was to find ways to integrate different, divergent traits and qualities into a single being. To achieve this, a special medical skill was developed known as simply The Beast.
The existence of this all-important, confidential secret was known only to
Gradim and his Three Generals. It was, after all, the culmination of their efforts —the fusion of soldiers with magical beasts. Based on the lycanthrope skill Animalize, The Beast ran off the animal elements in the battle chimera, the partner of the person possessing the skill. It combined man and beast into one, in every sense of the phrase, and it unlocked tremendous power for the caster. Instead of trying to tame the equivalent wild beast, it provided you with a super warrior, an incomparable force in battle.
However, given the forbidden nature of granting a person the power of a magical beast, this treatment was also extremely dangerous. Once administered, after all, the skill forcibly took effect. It could not be reversed voluntarily; the subject needed to be taken back to the laboratory hospital to flush the drug out of their body. And the side effects shouldn't be ignored, either—in fact, that was the bigger issue. Nothing about the safety of this drug based skill was guaranteed; according to current research, it was lethal 40 percent of the time. In some cases, conformity failed entirely and the subject was stuck in magical-beast form forever; that had a chance of occurring in one out of every five cases, and if it happened, your life as a human being was over.
Even worse than this was falling out of control. Some subjects gave way fully to their beast side, going berserk, while others stayed in human form and simply lost consciousness, carrying out no further orders. In cases like that, there was nothing to do but dispose of them. That happened at a rate of around 30 percent, and given its worse-than-death consequences, it wasn't something you wanted to test out on a lark.
Those were the examples of complete failure they had seen, and in total, it meant that 90 percent of cases ended in some kind of failure. It was basically ordering someone to die, and even someone as egotistical as Gradim was hesitant to try it on his own people. He wanted to improve on this drug, increasing the success rate before allowing his soldiers to use it. But under these circumstances, he could no longer be picky. At this rate, the weak would all be killed anyway. Gradim knew that Emperor Ludora was an even more coldhearted man than he was. The weak, in his mind, were worthy of being nothing but prey for the strong.
In that case, administering this drug to his soldiers right now might be seen as
an act of affection more than anything. Besides, if any fused beasts went out of control, they'd be useful decoys—and even if they couldn't revert to human form, they'd still be valuable assets. The only "waste" would be the 40 percent of soldiers and officers who'd die on the spot…but although there was some uncertainty, it'd absolutely result in a more powerful fighting team than what they had now. That in itself made it the right thing to do.
Yes, there were still many unknowns about the drug's effects, and they might see some physical abnormalities, but we're talking 10 percent of the force growing stronger beyond any doubt. And on the battlefield, quality trumped quantity at all times. For those who knew that ironclad rule, upgrading 10 percent of your force was a very attractive temptation.
The actual success rate, granted, was still unknown. They hadn't conducted enough trials yet, and there was the possibility of unforeseen side effects caused by people's individual physical makeup. Those possibilities couldn't be dismissed, but at least some people would survive with the powers of magical beasts in hand.
The most successful of the successful—probably not even 1 percent—had been found to be perfectly compatible with the process. As a sign of admiration, they were referred to as Chimera Knights. And among those successes:
"Guys, I just got a call from Zamdo. It sounds like the enemy's not playing around any longer. I want you to get up and rid us of them."
Gradim's countenance was grim.
"Mmm?"
Gabil, taking a moment to realize Gradim wasn't talking to him, gave him a suspicious look. But he immediately recovered, tightening up his face and jumping out of the way. A moment later, a flash of silver light coursed over where he was.
"Huh. Dodged that one? I thought it was a perfect surprise attack, but I guess I shouldn't underestimate you."
"Underestimate? That's my line. How are you still standing after I gouged that
giant hole in your chest?"
Confronting the retreating Gabil was Baraga the Azure Dragon, a foe he had written off as dead. Said hole in his chest was still gaping, with no sign of Ultraspeed or even regular old Self-Regeneration invoked on it. Any normal person would've died from it long ago, but this was a world crawling with magic-born; there was no telling what you'd find. Gabil understood that well enough, always checking fallen foes for life signs before declaring them fully dead. But Baraga was unusual.
"Heh-heh-heh… I remain safe thanks to Sir Gradim granting me his almighty power. Now let me show you my true form!"
Baraga's cry was answered by a water dragon flying toward him.
No—it was not a pure dragon, but instead a battle chimera modeled after one —for Baraga was one of the Chimera Knights who successfully awoke to his true potential. As long as either the soldier or their partner was a beast, nobody would die—another hidden power Chimera Knights enjoyed.
Now, thanks to invoking the medical skill The Beast, Baraga was able to recover from a fatal wound instantly. What's more, as soon as he and the water dragon made contact, their bodies merged into one. He retained his human form and appearance, but now his skin was covered in dragon scales. His entire aura was different—he had gained significant strength, no doubt.
Gabil ruefully glanced at Gradim, but concluded that Baraga was the more present danger. So he attempted to focus on a one-on-one battle with him… although Gradim wasn't careless enough to allow that.
"This lizard's tougher than I thought. Let's kill it together."
"Very well, my lord. I'll take the vanguard spot, Sir Gradim. You have the freedom to move."
"All right. You've got me helping you, remember, so don't screw up!"
Terms like "chivalry" or "bushido" weren't in Gradim's vocabulary. He recognized Gabil as a valid threat, and so he'd take every measure needed to eliminate him.
"Nngh! Enough of this! Even together, you will realize how invincible I am!!" So Gabil revved himself up for what was looking to be an uphill battle.
The third of Gradim's generals was proving just as resilient as her peers. Just as Baraga was perfectly fine, the lorelei that was once crushed to pieces was now fit as a fiddle.
Gadora, piloting the Demon Colossus, was keeping tabs on the battlefield. This allowed him to hear Gradim's words, and they made him uneasy.
"Get up," he said? Who was he talking to?
Just as he was thinking this, he noticed that Baraga was back in action. He hurriedly tried to alert Gabil, but before he could, he felt a chill and turned around.
Standing there was a girl who had clearly undergone some alteration. Or was "girl" even the right term? She had the form of a girl, but her skin was a metallic, reddish-black color. Nothing about her was flesh and blood—it was a rock, or to be exact, she had transformed into a piece of magisteel. It was like a polished mirror, a majestic figure that was obviously non-human.
"Did you…merge with the lorelei?"
"Ee-hee-hee-hee-hee! I sure did. You're a wise man, Lord Gadora! And quite well-versed in knowledge from other worlds as well. But we've taken a different approach."
"I'm sure you have, I'm sure you have. And I'll show you what I've come up with shortly, so let me know what you think!"
Gozaline the Black Tortoise, the girl with the wicked smile on her face, gave Gadora a taunting laugh. Then she took a step forward.
Gadora really wanted to avoid this. He thought he had defeated the lorelei by sheer force, but it seems that was just an act. That forced him to reconsider just how strong Gozaline was.
Hoo boy. Genetic engineering, is it? I didn't think it was much use in a world of magic, given all the mysteries surrounding the nature of monsters…but quite the
opposite, in fact? I'm amazed they've achieved so much in their quest to merge with monsters.
He was very impressed at their ingenuity.
Monsters came in many stripes; some didn't even have "genes" as we understand them. There wasn't enough time in the world to do enough research on every single type, and it wasn't likely to produce real results anyway. That was why, in the Empire, genetic engineering was studied only in the field of medicine—but now it looked like the Magical Beast Division was conducting their own secret research, the nature of which was probably too inhumane to disclose.
Gadora, not all that ethical a person himself, could understand why they put their intellectual curiosity first. He had no intention of lecturing them, but he did regret not being involved in that research at all. Because of that, he had no idea exactly how much this "merging" would enhance the subject's strength.
By the looks of it, he estimated that Gozaline's power exceeded that of the demon lord Clayman. That'd make her inferior to Saare, a Saint, but Gadora believed she had an equivalent amount of magicules. Comparing them to the Ten Dungeon Marvels, she would likely surpass even Zegion before his awakening—and while magicule count didn't translate directly to strength, there was no doubting the danger she posed as an opponent.
"The Dragon Lords would be no match for her, to be certain. I suppose I, too, had best treat this seriously."
"My, what an honor to receive such high praise from you, Lord Gadora! Feel free to savor this power to the fullest!"
Gozaline went on the move. The onrush was heavier than a ten-ton truck crashing into you at two hundred miles an hour. Even the Demon Colossus, measuring over ten feet tall and weighing in at over thirty tons, was blown straight off its feet.
Calmly putting it back in order, Gadora shouted out loud.
"Purple Thunder!"
A bolt of violet-tinged electricity shot out, as the name implied. It was part of
the Demon Colossus's armaments, capable of discharging a million volts. It should be noted that more voltage doesn't equal more power. This was added to the Colossus mainly because it looked cool. It was mainly for looks, but—hey —it's perfect for scaring the bejesus out of wayward dungeon adventurers.
And, amazingly enough, it worked on Gozaline.
"Wh-wha—?! That's not magic! How do you control lightning without any magic?!"
She froze in shock (definitely not because of any damage).
"Well, it's a secret weapon, you see? Top secret. Sir Rimuru trusted me with it —and that's why I will never be defeated!"
Gadora was riding high now. Analyzing Gozaline's onrush, he found that her entire body structure had been replaced with magisteel elements—a special ability of her lorelei, he surmised. It was harder and heavier than steel, but Gozaline's motion hadn't been hindered at all—and since her latent power was now at Saint-level, it was a transformation that simply reeked of cheating.
But Gadora still had the Demon Colossus.
"Take this, the ultimate in magic weaponry—Demonic Buster!!"
Again, the greatest of armaments fired away. The firing control system was linked directly to Gadora's will, so there was no time delay in activating the weapon. Demonic Buster was the most powerful of the weapons on the Colossus, and being the sorcery geek he was, Gadora named it as a tribute to the demons. It essentially functioned as a magicule concentration device, working on not only the magicules inside the magic furnace inside the Colossus, but also those naturally floating in the atmosphere, shooting all of them out at its enemies. The term "one-shot kill" was practically invented for it.
The Demon Colossus's chest opened up, revealing Gadora behind a transparent layer. He placed one palm in front of the other, and from the center of it burst forth a ray of light. This was the base that the Colossus then enriched with magicules, turning it into a sort of death ray.
"Tsk! The former commander of the Magic Division strikes again, does he?"
Gozaline, opting to defend instead of evading, had an expression as hard as stone.
"Well, here we go! Magisteel Ultra-Microwave!"
A small tremor occurred on the surface of her body, a specific vibration emitted by the magisteel. The metal's unique frequency makes it capable of repelling magicules. That's why magic didn't work on it, but now that Gozaline had merged with the lorelei, she was capable of manipulating the magisteel that formed her body at will.
On one side, a ray that compressed magicules; on the other, a metal that dissipated them. The two sides collided—and the winner was Gozaline.
"…What?!"
"Ee-hee! Ee-hee-hee-hee-hee! I have survived…and so I win!"
Gozaline shouted out in joy. Being a spellcaster, Gadora's offense naturally relies on magic—but Gozaline's magisteel body gave her an absolute advantage over any magic. Both were well aware of this. That was why Gadora broke out his most powerful weapon of all; if it didn't work, there was virtually no way to defeat her.
"Yes… I give. I never thought you would block this…"
Gadora, too, was one of the strongest people alive. Even if his adversary possessed more magicules, he had no problem forcing them to do his bidding. The difference in skill was enough to let him overwhelm even Saints like Saare. But this was one foe who he simply couldn't match up against—a foe who was simply impervious to him. If he couldn't defeat her, then maybe it wouldn't spell doom, but it certainly wouldn't be a victory.
So, realizing that the battle wasn't in his favor, Gadora wondered what to do.
This must be the critical moment. I am not part of Rimuru's inner circle, and I can hardly say he trusts me very much, either. If I don't show a little more backbone here, he'll never accept me as a friend to his cause.
The magnanimity of Rimuru constantly impressed him. Despite making no secret of how suspicious he was, the demon lord had accepted him after he
switched sides from the Empire. Not only that, but he fully recognized his abilities, entrusting him with a major role within Tempest. And life in the land of monsters was wonderful for him. He had access to research facilities that not only rivalled, but exceeded the Empire's in many ways. He had a friend and confidant in Adalmann, a full-fledged Saint now—he was proud of him for that.
And what's more…
With their aid, I can truly plumb the deepest depths of my magic research, my most favorite of pastimes. But if I want to live up to their expectations, I have to be of service to them here.
He recalled the many monsters hoping to learn magic from him. That was enough to finally firm his resolve. Of course, these memories were somewhat wishful thinking. One monster called him a fool and rejected him, one almost tricked him into becoming a test subject, and a third, far more devoted to the sword than the wand, invited him to train together.
But Gadora wasn't afraid to interpret things the way he wanted to. After all, one of them got along well with him—they became friends after they both complimented Rimuru's magic—so his memory wasn't completely failing him. That one was Diablo, and Gadora had made him a promise—if he could make Diablo admit to his magic gifts, the demon would make him one of their own.
That's why Gadora couldn't afford to die in a place like this. Rimuru had ordered him not to do anything reckless, but…
"I am not defeated yet! The battle is just beginning, little girl!"
"Ee-hee-hee-hee-hee! Good, good! Then let me carve you up with my powers!"
Gadora shouted, Gozaline shouted back, and the two clashed again.
Despite being less than half the size of the Demon Colossus, Gozaline was fighting back with all her might. It was a bizarre scene, seeing the far heavier Colossus be pushed back. Gozaline was simply abnormal. Something was stirring on the surface of her back—and now countless tentacles sprouted out of it, their sharpened tips thrusting toward the Colossus.
"Nngh?!"
"Hraaah! More, more! Show me more blood!"
She was heating up, basking in the intensity.
The tentacles were made of magisteel, ever so slightly vibrating with frequencies high enough to let it pierce any material as if it were clay. It was called High-Frequency Mince Strike, and it could be applied for a slashing attack as well—and it was that High-Frequency Mince Slash that sent both of the Demon Colossus's arms flying. They, too, were made of magisteel—but as a living creature, Gozaline had the advantage.
"Ugh… This precious machine, entrusted to me by Sir Rimuru…"
"A mere pile of junk before me. It would take a senile old geezer like you to rely on toys like that, wouldn't it?"
"Shut your mouth!" a frustrated Gadora exclaimed—but he was being nothing but a sore loser. His own body, too, had been gouged by the tentacles, puncture wounds present up and down his body. He was stained with blood all over, but Gozaline couldn't see him, so he kept up a strong front.
"How persistent of you. You know there's no way to reverse this now, don't you? There's nothing to be ashamed of. Even the most legendary of wizards can't win against the march of time."
"I have not lost at all!"
"Such a pitiful sight."
Two tentacles extending from Gozaline took the form of blades, severing the Demon Colossus's legs. Now there were no limbs at all.
"Submit to me! Swear your fealty, and I will spare your life."
Gadora's knowledge was too extensive to lose. That was why Gozaline made the offer, but Gadora wasn't about to give the nod.
"You know, I've made it this far thinking mainly about myself first. I have a firm love of magic, and there is no defying that for me. So why would I ever submit to someone who makes fun of magic?!"
Her inner magic nerd was about to blow a gasket. That's how people work. Ridicule someone for what they love, and they'll seethe at you with rage from
deep below.
Gadora was now burning, his body and spirit united for the cause. It was that anger that made him decide to invoke a forbidden magic. This was the elemental magic Sacrifice, a self-destructive spell that transforms life force into violently burning fuel.
Ah… I was hoping to gain Sir Diablo's recognition and become his apprentice… but oh well. I still have the mysterious art Reincarnation on my side. I'll have to say good-bye to this world for a while, but next time, I swear I will plumb the depths of magic!
If Gadora was given the choice, he would always take a victorious retreat over a deadly defeat.
"You dare to defy me? Then I have no use for you. Die!"
"And you as well!"
A tentacle pierced the chest of the Colossus, where Gadora was located. A moment later, a dazzling flash of light gushed from it. It was a light that burned everything it touched, the flames of the elemental magic Sacrifice.
"Wh-whaaaat?! This is what you were after—?"
But Gozaline's words were swallowed by the flames of life, disappearing into space. All that remained was one small flower blooming on the ground.
Gabil was fighting at a distinct disadvantage.
Gradim was strong, yes, but even more troublesome was Baraga, who had tapped into his power as a Chimera Knight. This made him notably different from before, his power so great that even the current Gabil couldn't underestimate him. In terms of magicule count alone, Gabil was ahead, as he was when it came to spear skills. But when looking at overall strength, there wasn't such a large gap between them. He was someone Gabil might let beat him if he wasn't careful—but he had two foes to deal with right now. And Gradim was free to attack from any angle he wanted, distracting Gabil from Baraga.
And he had something else to worry about. That was Soka, who was fighting one of Gradim's other generals.
Nazim the Vermilion Bird appeared to have the strength of a demon lord. She seemed to be of the same race as the demon lord Frey, and Gabil suspected he was a close match in terms of strength as well. Thus, in his judgment, Soka was no match for her. Soka had been strengthened by Gabil's evolution, yes, becoming one of the most capable of upper-level magic-born, but she was still just the second-in-command of a demon lord. She lacked the strength to take on one herself, and victory was pretty hopeless.
She was still alive because Nazim was having fun tormenting her, extending her fate. Gabil, aware of this, was anxious to provide some support—but Gradim and Baraga were formidable. Forgive me, my sister, he said to himself as he kept focusing on them, but please hold out for me.
Then Gabil was hit by another shock. There was a flash of light down on the ground—and at the center of it was Lord Gadora.
"L-Lord Gadora?!"
The Thought Communication didn't work. And that meant just one thing.
To make matters worse, he could see a small figure standing up off the ground—Gozaline, one of the Three Generals, sorely wounded but still safe.
Gabil, unable to hide his agitation, was then targeted by a spear attack from Baraga.
"Come on, come on, come on! If you aren't paying attention to me, you must think you have this won, don't you?"
"Gwah-ha-ha-ha! Of course! You will know that you are no match for me!"
It was big talk, but Gabil had no time to spare. The odds were against him, and even now, the word "retreat" was starting to take shape in his mind. But then he received some reinforcements he never could have imagined.
"Hey. Looks like you're in trouble. Need a hand?"
The voice was unexpected, but it belonged to someone Gabil knew well.
"Why can't you be honest with yourselves, hmm? We asked Milim to transport us because we were worried, you realize."
And there was another—the beautiful queen and ruler of the sky. "Lord Carillon… Lady Frey… Why are you here?"
Carillon laughed at Gabil's surprised question.
"That can wait for later, can't it? Let's get rid of these guys first."
Frey nodded in agreement. "We're in an alliance, aren't we? It's only natural that we'd send out reinforcements. So we're joining in, and we'll work under Sir Benimaru's command."
The Beast Master's Warrior Alliance serving Carillon numbered less than a hundred, but each member was an army in themselves. The "Heaven Fliers," Frey's close assistants, were the same way—warrior-type harpies were a rare sight, but they were still notorious for their well-honed skills. There weren't many of them, but they couldn't have asked for better reinforcements.
"I am glad to see you!" Gabil said, deciding to accept this rather than fret about it. He sent a message to Benimaru for instructions and received an immediate response.
"We are having Moss send us an update on your situation over there. Don't let your guard down—Gradim's up to something, to be sure. Keep an eye out for their rank-and-file soldiers!"
The orders were straightforward—just the main points, no specific
instructions on who should take on whom. But Gabil liked it that way. It made him feel trusted, depended on.
"Very well. Sir Carillon, I would like you to handle the enemy's main commander here."
"Heh-heh! Smart choice there. He's the scourge of every lycanthrope, I'll tell ya. I wrote him off as dead long ago, but seeing him alive's the biggest shock I've had all day. Can't wait to put an end to him myself."
That was Carillon's intention from the beginning, so he was more than happy with these orders.
"And will that bird girl over there be my adversary?"
"Bird girl" would describe you, wouldn't it? Gabil thought. But he wasn't stupid enough not to realize the consequences of saying it out loud. He was still concerned about his sister Soka as well, so Frey's offer was fine with him.
"Mmm, can you do that for me?" he asked, trying to sound like a leader. "Right. I'll be off, then."
Frey glanced over to the two Twin Wings next to her.
"You handle the rest for me."
"Good luck, Lady Frey!"
She nodded at them and took flight for Nazim, the Vermilion Bird, who was continuing her beating of Soka until she noticed Frey coming.
"Frey…! I am the true queen. And today I shall make amends for our long standing grudge!"
Unbeknownst to Frey herself, Nazim was her twin sister. A mutant born with great powers, she was unfortunately sterile, unable to reproduce—and in the female-dominated society of the harpies, a queen who cannot bear children was simply unacceptable. It wasn't Nazim's fault at all, but she was disqualified from the moment she was born—and what's worse, the queen at the time opted to expel her from the land, fearing she'd be a harbinger of future calamity.
So, while wandering the land, Nazim was picked up by Gradim—and before long, her anger and hatred toward her own people began to grow. And now the symbol of that anger, Frey, was right in front of her. With an odd-feeling mixture of joy and resentment, she flew up to intercept her.
"Well," Carillon casually said as he watched from a distance, "let's get started over here."
Gradim gritted his teeth. "Don't look down on me, you bastard."
"Looks like Frey's dealing with her own flesh and blood, huh? Guess that's fate at work. If we hadn't come to help out, I never would've had this opportunity, eh?"
"Opportunity?"
"Yeah. The chance to kill you—and prove once and for all that I am the strongest beastman."
"The hell you will! That's my job!"
Carillon and Gradim had quite similar personalities and ways of speaking. They possessed fierce tempers, and in a way, even the world wasn't big enough for the both of them. Carillon was right—this battle was driven by fate.
"Let's go."
"Come to me. I'll show you the difference between us."
Invoking his unique skill Royal Beast, Carillon attained his true form as Beast Master—fully armored, and ready to go all-out from the start. Gradim, meanwhile, held the power of the white tiger, which he hadn't even broken out against Gabil. This solitary tiger, clad in the Empire's military uniform, was ready to intercept the would-be king of the beasts.
There were now two sets of combatants on the battlefield clashing mightily against each other. Gabil was now confirming that the new reinforcements were moving in accordance with Benimaru's instructions. It all went very smoothly. Much like Team Kurenai and Team Hiryu, they were all under the command of Dolph, leader of the Heavenly Regiment. More detailed orders were given at certain key points, but Benimaru had decided it was better to
leave most of that work to officers on the ground.
Gabil, for his part, supported this decision. He imagined that, much like himself, Benimaru would be busy fighting the enemy's top leadership. And it looked like this was the right decision to make.
Although each individual member of the Empire's Magical Beast Division fought at a high level, their maneuvers as a group weren't all that praiseworthy. Despite being outnumbered, the allied forces were able to maintain their front lines through skillful coordination. Even so, there was no denying their disadvantage. The reinforcements were thus more than welcome—and now they were about to stage a counterattack.
"All right. Things seem to be going well. Soka's back to healing herself…and I need to do my best as well."
"Distracted with me in front of you? Not a good idea."
Gabil, watching the battlefield, was threatened with a spear attack once more. Baraga was his opponent; Gradim had left with Carillon, but the battle with Baraga was still going.
"Gwah-ha-ha-ha! We are under orders from our commander. I'm afraid I can't focus strictly on you right now."
"Then you sorely underestimate me."
"And that wouldn't be the other way around? If Gradim had tackled us seriously from the start, after all, I'm not sure I would still be here."
"Pfft! The great Beast King doesn't need to treat the likes of you seriously."
Gabil shook his head, exasperated. "And that is what letting your guard down means. It is said that a lion expends his full effort to catch even so much as a rabbit. And in a world where might makes right, it's only polite to give your all against whoever you go up against, isn't it?"
He flashed a brazen smile. But despite his words, the thought of his friends flashed into his mind. Quite a few of them, he thought, didn't expend their full effort against their enemies at all, Diablo chief among them. Gabil would occasionally challenge him to a training battle, only to get beaten by a pulp
without so much as a serious effort from him.
Well, there's an exception to every rule. Besides, if he really tried against me, it'd be over in an instant. I have no right to complain… We may have the same position, but there's just so much of a difference between us. That's the sad reality of it.
Rimuru, at least, acknowledged his talents enough to put him among the Twelve Lordly Guardians. Gabil was proud of that, but he also knew where he was in the pecking order. Awakening and becoming stronger helped him better realize the strength of Diablo and the other demons. Even the three demonesses who didn't get evolved at the victory celebration were far more powerful than Gabil currently—and if so, the stronger (and now evolved) Diablo must be up to unimaginable heights.
He could never beat him, and he was all right with that—but if he gave up on improving himself now, it really would be the end. No, as long as he could keep chasing after him, it didn't matter if he couldn't win right now. Such were Gabil's thoughts, as he strove to keep his ambition to improve. Being that way, he knew what true strength was—and although it was still just imagination on his part, he instinctively understood that true strength wasn't what the likes of Gradim and Baraga had.
"Thus I shall never be defeated!"
"Nonsense! Your army is already doomed to failure. You owe us a great debt for allowing you to die before you witness the true hell that awaits you!"
Baraga sharpened his attack. Gabil carefully parried it.
"Mm-hmm. Are you talking about the transformation of your soldiers? I'd like to know what they did, exactly."
The moment Gabil pointed it out, Baraga slowed down. He stared at Gabil, looking a bit perturbed.
"Oh… You noticed?"
"Of course I did. We have a very talented commander."
"Well, you're still too late. The order has been given—and all that's left for
you is to die in despair!"
As proof, Baraga pointed out the now fully recovered Gozaline.
"Hmm. Very impressive healing. But anyone with our strength would be capable of that, no?"
Gabil had noticed that Gozaline was back in good shape. That much wasn't surprising. But Baraga still gave him a bold smile.
"No, not Gozaline. Around her."
"Mmm?"
A chill ran down Gabil's spine. There he saw a pile of fallen imperial soldiers. Why was Baraga proudly pointing them out? He couldn't understand. And besides…
…Actually, when did these soldiers die?
The enemy boasted high numbers, so he didn't give it much thought before, but this was a truly extraordinary number of dead. Looking closer, he realized that many enemy troops were leaving the front lines and going back down to the ground. Tracing their paths, he found that a large number of them were all but helpless, coughing up blood or collapsing on the spot.
"Wha?!"
"Did you notice?"
"They're just dying on their own…?"
"That's right. Sir Gradim has made his decision. They shall all now face a great trial!"
Baraga gave Gabil a loud, hearty laugh. The maniacal laughter echoed across the battlefield, chilling the hearts of all who heard it. And Gabil, too, was horrified by what he saw. Now, he realized, something terrible was happening.
Gradim, the Beast King, had issued a command—the very highest level of secret orders.
"All troops, listen! Zamdo has informed me that His Excellency is in danger,
and our treacherous enemies have also summoned a legion of evil demons. Their strength is unknown, but we estimate that it's more than you can currently handle. If nothing is done, we are likely to take severe casualties. Thus I have decided to tap into our last resort. You must offer to us your courage and your loyalty. Activate the final trump card I have given you—for then you will gain the power to defeat the demons!"
He had given the order to his Three Generals first, followed by the rest of his troops.
The drugs, their energizers for when all hope was lost, had been distributed to them all in pill form. Their use was heavily restricted, however—they couldn't be touched without an order from Gradim, their commander. That came in the secret orders provided just now.
Hmph! Succeed in this, and you will gain immense power—and sometimes, you will survive with only a few side effects. Do not hate me for this… Hate yourself for your failure to adapt!
Such were Gradim's inner feelings. He was an almost refreshingly self centered man, hardly hesitating to order his troops to die. It was a coldhearted decision, but it was also true that the demons were likely to overrun them otherwise. He was asking his soldiers to bet their lives on gaining untold power, but it was, when seen from the correct angle, the right thing to do.
The soldiers promptly carried out their commands. They hadn't been informed of what the pills did, exactly, so there was no hesitation. Thus they all invoked the forbidden medical skill The Beast on themselves without even realizing what they had done.
The effects of this slowly poured over the bodies of the Magical Beast Division troops. It was still mid-battle, so the effect wasn't very obvious at first—but as time passed, things grew more apparent fast.
The ground was filled with corpses—the sight Gabil had just laid eyes on.
Already, a number of berserk troops were running for the front lines. Team Kurenai, Team Hiryu, the Beast Master's Warrior Alliance, and the Heaven Fliers were all forced to fight hard against them.
But there were also those confused and bewildered—but not defeated—by the changes within themselves. Those were the true warriors Gradim sought out.
Ten thousand immediately died.
Five thousand five hundred were completely, irreversibly transformed into magical beasts.
Five thousand made the transformation, only to lose all reason and go berserk.
Five thousand transformed into a human-beast form, also going berserk. Four thousand became Beast Warriors imbued with animal powers. And four hundred awoke as Chimera Knights.
It was fortuitous for Gradim that the probabilities worked out pretty much as he had anticipated. There was ample reason to believe the results would've turned out much worse, given the relatively small group of test subjects.
The Magical Beast Division, as a result of this, was now much smaller than it used to be. However, its power as an army had skyrocketed.
The berserk members of the Division promptly met their end. They had some value as decoys, but once they lost their minds, there was really no going back; Gradim was mentally prepared to write them off without regrets. Among the survivors, half—around ten thousand—could still retain their intelligence as they fought. That was a little more than Gradim expected, and while more than half of them could never return to human form again, they were a valuable fighting force. Gradim was satisfied enough with that.
But most of all, they now had four hundred Chimera Knights—and with them, they would never lose to anyone again. Brooding over this, Gradim nodded in satisfaction. Still, it was too early to relax. It took a long time to reach these results, but they still needed to reorganize their forces on the field. He wanted to take personal command, but unfortunately there was an obstacle in his way —Carillon.
For now, he'd have to rely on his Three Generals. Baraga the Azure Dragon
was fighting Gabil; Nazim the Vermilion Bird was in fierce combat with Frey. That left only Gozaline the Black Tortoise.
(Gozaline, reform our forces at once!)
(Ee-hee-hee-hee-hee! Very well. I am delighted to see the results were even greater than expected.)
(Indeed. Get to work at once!)
A quick telepathic message was all it took. They really should have closed their ranks while they had ten thousand berserk half-beast decoys running around—but at least Gozaline was safe, which relieved Gradim greatly. As selfish as he was, he still trusted those he deemed worthy enough.
"Ha! Too focused on your troops to bother with me, eh?"
"Of course. I command an army, you realize. I am not a wild beast."
"And you just commanded most of them to die, didn't you? Don't make me laugh."
"That is the nature of war, you fool. If you cannot make a similar commitment, you never deserved to rule our land. And did I hear that you were kicked off your demon-lord throne by a newcomer? I feel sorry for the men and women who served someone as powerless as you!"
"Shut up!!"
Carillon slashed at Gradim in anger—but there was too much impatient urgency in his attack. Much as he never wanted to believe it, Gradim had grown far stronger than he expected.
"Whoa, that attack won't do much. You barely look like you're jogging toward me in my eyes."
With that lighthearted remark, Gradim moved behind Carillon, a set of large claws equipped on his right hand. These were his White Tiger Claws, each emitting a silvery-white sheen; a God-class weapon both named after him and lent to him by the emperor. He had since transformed them by his own will, and being God-class, they could slice through any opponent—even spiritual life forms. Given Gradim's near-divine speed, they were an excellent match for his
fighting style.
So Gradim used his well-honed footwork to keep Carillon at his mercy. Even the Legend-class armor protecting Carillon was about as good as scrap metal against the White Tiger Claws.
"What's wrong, huh? Didn't you say you were going to kill me? Was that just a lot of big talk, or what?"
"Ah, shut up. Tsk… I thought it'd be easier to kill you, but this ain't goin' at all like I thought…"
Carillon, too, had grown much stronger—all that training with Milim had done wonders for him. It allowed him to continue fighting this bout without taking a lethal blow. In a way, Gradim was even more surprised about that. Any difference in weapon strength had a direct correlation to overall battle strength, and he assumed that difference would end the fight a lot sooner than now. The two were very similar, including in their abilities. But while Carillon had an advantage in latent strength, Gradim had the edge in weaponry—and overall, that gave him a leg up.
Gradim, clearly understanding this, moved to finish off Carillon while ensuring he kept himself protected. But then, at that moment, something happened that Gradim never could've predicted.
"What? I'm…surging with power…!!"
This was the sign of an oncoming evolution—the start of his own Harvest Festival, the progression to demon lord-dom. But awakening under these conditions posed a major challenge for Gradim.
"Why am I…so tired…?"
He was already unsteady on his feet. Carillon, not one to miss this opportunity, fled from danger and recomposed himself.
"What's the matter? Exhausted already?"
Then he observed Gradim more closely. Something was clearly happening— but was it good or bad for him? Gradim was clearly gaining power—that was visible enough to anyone watching him. Magicules were swarming around him,
an enormous aura flowing out from his body. But Gradim himself seemed barely able to stay on his feet now.
What's going on? This isn't that "awakening" thing, is it?
Carillon suddenly recalled a story he'd heard recently. At Rimuru's victory party, according to the tale, he held an evolution ceremony on his officers—but some of them were so stricken by irresistible fatigue that they had to leave the event early.
You have to go to sleep for a while on the way to becoming a true demon lord, right? And that's exactly what's happening to this guy!
The Beast Master was no dunce, but he wasn't the most quick-witted person in the world, either. Right now, however, he was demonstrating great insight— perhaps the life-threatening situation was sharpening his brain a bit.
Frey suggested that evolution requires a certain number of souls…and Gradim's troops are dying by the thousands around us, ain't they?
Indeed, the conditions were in place. Ascending to a true demon lord requires a large quantity of hate-driven souls. Not all of them bore a grudge against Gradim, of course, but enduring all the hatred of those you have killed was one of the trials required for the awakening. This was happening to Gradim right now, in the middle of an intense battle, and he was completely defenseless. It was simple cause and effect, really. The soldiers who trusted Gradim must have felt terribly betrayed, their souls marred by hatred toward their commander.
Carillon couldn't read the situation that far, but he still judged it as both a great crisis and a great opportunity.
"Guess heaven's on my side after all."
"W-wait! Wait a minute…"
"It's always been about you your whole life, hasn't it? Time to pay for that."
"No! Think calmly about it a moment. You may call yourself the strongest only if you beat me when I'm in perfect condition. This will be nothing but a half hearted victory for you. You will rue it the rest of your life!"
Gradim was deeply concerned. Failure to act right now would assuredly kill
him…but he was racked by fatigue he could do nothing about. It was all so unexpected that he couldn't think of any measures to take against it. He turned toward his dependable generals—but Baraga and Nazim were locked in fierce combat, and while Gozaline was merely reorganizing troops, the onslaught she faced from Rimuru's forces meant that she couldn't just run to Gradim's aid.
At that very moment, nobody could help him. He fell to his knees.
God…damn it…! I finally made it here… One more step and I would attain ultimate power…
He could feel that power erupting within him—and an equally strong sleepiness that it was futile to resist. Once he awakened, he could defeat even Velgrynd. He could picture it already…but reality was much crueler to him. If not even Rimuru could resist this ordeal, there was no reason why Gradim could.
Now his face was a muddle of tears and frustration.
"This… You can't do this…! You can't, damn it…!!"
With that final shout, Gradim fell asleep. And if a would-be demon lord failed to survive this ordeal…they faced death.
"Well, ain't you lucky! You get to have a nice, peaceful death in your sleep. So long, then! Beast Roar!!"
Carillon was not one to show mercy at a time like this. Maybe it'd be a different story if he still saw himself as an almighty demon lord, but now he was just the commander of an army. He had come to reinforce his allies, and so it was only natural that he'd place victory above his own pride.
Thus a man burning with ambition, one just a single step away from reaching even greater heights, was defeated by Carillon.