Damrada, alone as he watched over one of the Eight Gates, couldn't help but wonder:
Why did it turn out like this?
...…
...
…
Things couldn't be any worse.
Yuuki had fallen into the hands of Emperor Ludora, deprived of his free will like all of his friends. Ludora had ordered Damrada to watch over them all, and he was in no position to defy him. Now, however, Ludora had given another order. Yuuki would be watched by someone else, and once the handover was done, he was to board the emperor's flagship.
So began that great air battle.
Single Digits ranked sixth or higher were allowed to learn the true identity of the Marshal—but they could tell no one else. That was an absolute order, the information so vitally confidential that Damrada, whose business frequently took him to foreign lands, had his memories manipulated for extra security.
Yes. I made a promise to him. And that was…
Damrada recalled it once he saw the Marshal reveal herself. Many more memories followed, coming back vividly. He had previously recalled the most important promise he had made to Ludora, but now he remembered the reason it was so important to execute on it.
Well, now what…?
There was no time to stew over it. The demon lord Rimuru, whom he had seen not long ago, was a very nice person, one who didn't seem much of a threat. Once he was captured in Velgrynd's alternate dimension, he shouldn't have been able to interfere with their measures to capture Veldora. And now, indeed, Veldora was completely dominated, giving Ludora a decisive advantage over Guy.
But this was of no importance to Damrada. Or to Ludora, even…
With a clarity of thought that felt like a thick fog being lifted, Damrada began wondering what was truly best for Ludora. But before he could answer that question, the demon lord Rimuru made his move—truly unprecedented violence.
Why did he ever think he wasn't a threat? Damrada wished he could interrogate himself over that. The fact he made it out of Velgrynd's seal made it no doubt that he was a force to be reckoned with. But more than that—the moment Damrada saw Rimuru appear, he realized just how naïve he had been. The demon lord had taken one look at him and the rest with his golden eyes. It was a glare, a cold one, as if he didn't even recognize Damrada as his enemy. Kondo immediately stepped up to respond, but his attack didn't work.
Is that all you have? Then I don't even need to be wary of you. All of you can wait for later. Have fun being terrorized. And try not to get killed until I can deal with you…
That was the story Rimuru's eyes seemed to tell. To him, Damrada and the others were as good as dead already. Emperor Ludora was no exception to this; if things kept going this way, they'd all doubtlessly be killed.
But what did tactical victory mean for Rimuru in this situation? It meant fulfilling two conditions. One, recapture Veldora. Two, eliminate the invaders.
Veldora was the demon lord's staunchest ally. For Rimuru, him losing his free will couldn't be allowed to stand. If he had come all the way over here, he must have been prepared to deal with Velgrynd—and from Damrada's point of view, there was no predicting the outcome of that battle. It was a vast contest in some far-off land, and he had no way of analyzing it.
So what about eliminating the invaders? People called Rimuru a pacifist, but
that didn't make him nonviolent. His lands had been subject to numerous invasions in the past, and he had repelled all of them—by any means he saw fit.
Thanks to Veldora's help, the land of monsters had a long string of victories. Rimuru would never forgive the Empire's acts of aggression. The time for negotiation was over. For him, the only course of action was to kill every single imperial soldier. Bargaining in the face of this was meaningless—the only way out was to fight to the bitter end.
Even worse, they had signed no previous agreement over this war, which meant there was no guarantee that surrender would bring forgiveness. The Empire, seeing no point in such actions, set a trap for Rimuru when he came to negotiate. Their trust was ruined, and it could be concluded that no further talks would ever be agreed to.
We should have made much more of an effort to stop His Majesty.
Damrada, too, had grossly overestimated the Empire's fighting ability. He saw no way they could lose, so he assumed they could dictate whatever terms of victory they wanted. He wanted to show off the Empire's strength, smash his opponents, and swallow them up before they showed any signs of rebellion. They could replace their leadership, establish a puppet state—whatever they wanted, as long as they won the war. This was how the Empire expanded its territory, but this time, they made a great miscalculation. Not only were the two sides evenly matched on the battlefield; there was no guarantee even Emperor Ludora would be safe.
It was no wonder why Damrada felt so depressed.
It should be noted that Damrada's primary concern was the promise he made to Ludora. There was no doubt in his mind that Rimuru wanted the emperor dead as well, and that made Damrada wonder what the right course of action for him could be. He wanted to keep that promise to Ludora—but it was something he wanted to achieve with his own two hands. But, oh, defeating Rimuru seemed so impossible…
Damrada shivered a bit as he analyzed the issue. Their flagship had been surrounded by terrifying magic, with the survivors now protecting the Eight Gates. Could you really call this fighting as equals? Because to him, this looked
like nothing but a dreadful error.
...…
...
…
That brought us to now.
"Did I keep you waiting?"
Before Damrada's eyes was a young girl, smiling happily. She was one of the seven Primal Demons, one bearing unbelievable strength—Ultima, servant of the demon lord Rimuru.
"He has Primals serving under him…and he's even granted them power…"
She was an even more awesome sight up close. The accuracy and power of that fearsome Death Streak was far beyond what it used to be, proving that the demons had indeed been evolved. Rimuru had opened a massive gate to summon them all, not even caring about all the eyewitnesses, and then he did…something to everyone there. There had been no time to investigate exactly what, but Ultima had now given them a firm answer.
The demon looked amused with herself.
"Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! You figured it out, huh? Well, that's right. Sir Rimuru gave me a bunch of power, and now I'm feeling really good!"
It was a nice anecdote for Ultima. To Damrada, it was his worst nightmare. Giving power to a Primal—there was no way a mere demon lord could do that, as much as he predicted it himself. Not even Guy Crimson had evolved the Primals under his control, which made clear just how extraordinary the demon lord Rimuru's actions were. But that didn't stop Damrada from trying to defeat him. He had to fulfill his promise to Ludora, and as part of that, he was obliged to go all-out against the demon Ultima.
"You know, I have not always strived for the very best. Even if I have to choose a much harder path…as long as I can fulfill my goal at the end, that's all that matters."
Damrada stopped worrying. Even looking at Ultima and all the overwhelming
force she boasted, he stood strong, never growing timid.
"Hmm… Still up for this, huh?"
"Of course. I am one of my master's knights, and I will show you my power to the fullest."
"Great. Can't wait! Let's get started then!"
Thus began the battle between Damrada, second-ranked of the Single Digits, and the "Pain Lord" Ultima.
Ultima chuckled as she observed Damrada. She could feel his power—an incredible amount for a human being, and exceptional even as a Saint. If she hadn't been evolved, this might not have been winnable for her.
Hmm… I know this. He's about equal with Hinata, huh? And she was like a natural enemy to all monsters, but it looks to me like this guy's honed himself purely against humans, and individual targets for that matter. His type certainly can be a nuisance.
Ultima knew that people who improved and invented their own abilities, rather than have them granted by others, were a pain. Hakuro was a good example of that, someone who could use a seemingly boundless number of techniques to handle any situation in his way. Adapting and applying those skills was the secret to his strength, and to higher forms of existence like herself, it was an alien concept.
...…
...
…
Demons existed on a much higher plane of existence than people. All they needed to do was release a little magic force, and that itself became an attack.
That was true of Ultima, who stood at the very top of the demon race. She was born an expert on magic manipulation—the perfect control of magic force —and she didn't have to work for it at all. Any wish she had instantly came true. That's what magic was, and no one could dare hope to compete against its
overwhelming versatility.
Until fairly recently, Ultima believed the only adversaries who could beat her were other Primals or wild cards like True Dragons. But this belief was mistaken, something she discovered during her battle with Velgrynd. She and her cohorts put up a good fight against her, despite being far outclassed; they even beat one of her Separate Bodies, although even that only had about 10 percent of Velgrynd's strength. At the same time, however, they discovered that using their power the wrong way could get them defeated by a lower-ranked opponent.
The battles that followed offered a great many lessons. True Dragons, already the most powerful beings in the world, exhibited highly precise, sophisticated magic manipulation. That allowed them to fully overwhelm Ultima and the demonesses, despite their own magic skills. Ultima had no idea how Velgrynd pulled that off mid-battle, but now she did. The secret lay in applying an ultimate skill to your magic.
An ultimate skill gives you a lot more precision over your magic control, right? No wonder we couldn't beat her at all.
Velgrynd was doing little more than keeping the demonesses at bay, but even that was too much for Ultima to overcome back then. And for Carrera, a self styled magic expert, seeing someone handle it so much better than her was a humiliation.
Yes, a humiliation…but also a stroke of good luck. She enjoyed the opportunity to experience that battle, and she survived without tasting a decisive defeat. Never until now did Ultima consider that simply incorporating the effects of a skill into magic could potentially double its power. Now that this battle was behind her, she was quickly realizing some new possibilities.
True, we've got a very good foundation, but that doesn't mean we should rely on it too much. A little innovation, and we can get even stronger!
Ultima, as the strongest of them all, had never held much of a craving for power. This time, though, she sincerely wanted it for herself. If someone already near-invincible strove for even greater heights through hard work and study, how much stronger could they get? The answer to this question probably
lay in Velgrynd—her and Guy Crimson, no doubt. Along those lines, Diablo, constantly pursuing his own interests over anything else, was probably a wild card. It was completely different from Ultima and Carrera, who had never made an effort at anything before (Testarossa was another story).
Ultima was aware that she was the most inexperienced out of the seven Primals, but even so, she felt she could fight as an equal with Mizeri or Raine. When it came to Testarossa and Carrera in a serious fight, though, she didn't like her chances. Testarossa was perfect—and elegant all the way. She was confident, even with her bad habit of looking down on others. Carrera was arrogant and sloppy, capable of perfection if she wanted it but prone to losing interest and phoning it in instead.
So what did that make Ultima? She couldn't control magic as precisely as Testarossa, or throw around magic force the way Carrera could. Out of the three Devil Lords, she was probably bringing up the rear. Everything was just halfway there at best with her—she was a wellspring of talent, but she never enthusiastically applied herself to anything. In that way, she was similar to Carrera in many respects; that's why they competed as rivals for so long. But now Carrera had taken up a new hobby—swordsmanship. It only made Ultima jealous.
But that would end today. Ultima was blessed with the opportunity to awaken, and now she had the power she wished for.
And I'm the one with the most room for growth among us all, right?
Now that she was thinking this way, it all seemed like a pretty funny story to her. It was all thanks to Rimuru, her master, and while Ultima had no idea how the demon lord could do that, it didn't matter to her. All that mattered was whether she could attain a higher plane of existence or not—that and whether she could prove useful to Rimuru.
She continued to wish as she watched over Agera's battle. And at the end of all that pondering, she heard what she thought was a voice.
Allow me to help you give shape to that wish a little.
This was the ultimate skill Samael, Lord of Deathly Poison. It could detect the weaknesses of any living thing and create a suitable "poison" to target them—
and now that Ultima had this power, she felt she had no chance of losing to anyone.
But then she remembered. Wasn't that what Diablo had always told her—to hone her skills and not rely too much on her latent power? She had been losing frequently to Zegion around that time, so she assumed Diablo was just giving her a hard time; he was mean that way. But Ultima had it all wrong. He was probably being sarcastic, yes, but he had her best interests in mind when he said it. He was teaching her, in essence, that the right control over your power could make a world of difference. And once that got through to Ultima, a lot of Diablo's other advice popped into her mind.
You can't truly acquire the power you've been given just by calling on it in a pinch. That's really true!
Now Ultima was deeply convinced. She was told that not long after she was granted her name, and now she thought it was really true.
Come to think of it, Diablo never really used the powers Sir Rimuru gave him— not unless things were real bad. I thought he just didn't see his enemies as worthy of tasting those attacks, but maybe he had a good reason.
So why not her, too, then?
Thus Ultima decided to use this opportunity as a way for her to grow. This man Damrada would be a tricky opponent, after all, so he'd be the perfect target to give her all against.
Ugh… Look at Diablo, trying to train us by making us fight like this… He really does look down on all of us, doesn't he? If Testa finds that out, she's gonna cause a lot of trouble for us, huh? But then again, maybe Testa went along with it. But, well, since we're here and all…I might as well take advantage.
Even Damrada, a doubtlessly strong opponent, was merely a training partner to Ultima. She was determined to use her ultimate skill against him, the product of her long-held wishes, to win this out—and she was sure it'd be a growing experience for her. So she swore to herself that she'd win—not with the "power" she had without asking, but by perfectly applying the "ability" she had obtained through her own desires. Then, she thought, she could prove it. She wouldn't be wishing it any longer—she really would be useful to Rimuru.
...…
...
…
The battle was reaching its peak intensity. Ultima had the power advantage with her attacks, but Damrada's techniques parried them away. Occasionally he could even focus his entire body's fighting spirit to cancel out the attack head on. That was the fundamental power of Damrada—thinking on his feet and never wasting a movement. It was honestly impressive and fascinating to Ultima; it helped her realize a great many things mid-battle.
I see… So this kind of flow won't put you off balance? I bet this would work on Zegion as well!
Zegion was just too much. The moment Ultima approached him, she'd get knocked to the ground. On-the-field battle training was one thing, but when it came to martial arts practice, he wasn't a suitable sparring partner.
Along those lines, Damrada was a nice, approachable rival, the best person for her to fight against. Now Ultima realized how fortunate she was. With overwhelming magical power, she could easily defend against any attack—and on offense, she could crush any enemy by brute force alone. She thought she knew that, but now it actually began to feel that way—and as both sides increased their power, the battle grew more and more ferocious.
The powers were so closely balanced, there was no telling when the battle was going to end…or, at least, it seemed that way at a glance.
"Ah-ha-ha! What fun! I never would've lasted this long in a training session with Zegion."
Ultima looked like she was truly enjoying herself. Damrada, by contrast, looked like this whole affair disgusted him.
"You treat a fight against me as a training session…? You truly do look down upon me."
But despite his words, even Damrada knew it deep down. If this kept up, he
would be the one who lost. Ultima was still growing, but Damrada was already giving her everything he had—all of his technique at once. There was no time to enjoy this; all that mattered was how he would ever defeat her.
Primals, after all, were like the "chosen ones" of magic. No half-hearted attack could ever work against someone capable of writing the physical laws of this planet.
Only through applying the ultimate enchantment Alternate to all of his attacks could Damrada inflict any damage on Ultima. He had spent over two millennia training himself, growing capable of using this borrowed power the way you or I breathe. It was so familiar to Damrada now that he had all but forgotten Ludora had lent it to him in the first place. Besides, demons had certain checks placed on them. There was a set limit to their magicule counts (although that seemed to be unlocked at the moment). As a result, someone Saint-class like Damrada had more overall energy on hand than Ultima—hence why he could keep it even with her.
The more I attack, the more I expose my hand, after all. But I doubt any of my more powerful finishers would work against her anyway. So…I can't win?
Damrada expended a bone-crushing effort to acquire his technique, but Ultima could just steal it after a single glance. It would've been better if he went on a quick attack to end this in a hurry, but he knew that could leave him open and vulnerable to self-imploding. Ultima was still launching multiple attacks at once, all with the same mind-boggling force, and he was still canceling them all out at the same time…but that didn't seem to frustrate his foe. In fact, Ultima looked happy.
"That's so good! Like a textbook example!"
Being told that made Damrada far more frustrated instead.
He was in the corner. Not only was he in no position to hold anything back, but as soon as he showed any new move, he could feel Ultima growing off of it, like a pile of dry sand sucking up water.
Ha-ha-ha… All I can do is laugh.
It was true. Damrada had no idea that Primals were such terrifying things. An
external observer would think their abilities were balanced against each other, but that balance was about to fall apart shortly. As long as one side of the fight continued growing, the scales were bound to tip sooner or later. That was the stark reality…and now the moment was here.
"Ha-ha! Now I'm really starting to get it!"
The change in Ultima's mood was clear as she shouted it. Until now she had been storing up her powers so she could focus on stealing Damrada's moves. Now that power was released—and behind her sprouted six pairs of featherless, batlike wings, a shining light purple in color.
"Here we go!"
"Ngh?!"
With that, the twelve wings began to move at once, changing shape in a multitude of ways as they aimed themselves at Damrada. Some were thin as blades, some sharp as needles, some formed fist-like mounds. The constant changes made it difficult to even attempt a mad dash away from them, much less try to deal with them.
Damrada, trying to parry a fist-like wing, was blown away once the fists crossed each other. The power was incomparable to anything before, too severe for Damrada to cancel out, and it was increasing rapidly. There was no longer any upper limit to her magicule count, and no sign of this rapid increase slowing down at all—she could make herself literally as powerful as she wished.
"Tsk!"
"Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! I just love that kind of facial expression."
"Hmph! Don't sass me, little girl. Your power is amazing, but it doesn't matter if you can't hit me."
Damrada had required more focus than ever before to avoid that attack. He acted unaffected, but inside, he began to feel a sense of deep urgency. If this continued, there was no way to win—but Ultima left no holes open. If she didn't, Damrada would just have to poke one open…and so he resorted to desperate actions.
One of the wings pierced Damrada's leg. It looked like a failure on his part, but that was exactly what his strategy was. A race like the demons, prone to boasting about their mighty power, was just as prone to arrogance. Even Ultima would let this put her off guard—and if Damrada could catch that, he was sure of victory.
"Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! I thought you were gonna just keep dodging me. Or did you get tired?"
With a wicked grin, Ultima relaxed her attack and began taunting Damrada. Her wings went on the move, plunging into his limbs but not his vitals.
Yes, I know it. You're all strong. That's why you look down upon us…and dig your own graves at the final moment.
Damrada was sure his plan would succeed. Then, pretending to be wounded and fallen, he unleashed an all-out strike against Ultima.
"Holy Smashfist!"
This was his most powerful of finisher moves, a skill that took all his fighting spirit as a Saint and used Alternate to compress it into a single strike. Even the most powerful evil demon would be permanently extinguished by it, and without a body to inhabit, Ultima the Primal would be forced to vanish.
Damrada felt he had won, but there would be no victorious afterglow today. Just as he was about to finish Ultima off, he felt a chill for some reason. All that fell away was a single wing. It seemed to change shape, imitating Ultima herself, but Damrada couldn't see it—and then it was too late.
"Poison Smashfist!"
Ultima had punched through Damrada's chest.
Her hand was infused with an enormous amount of magic force as she executed an open-hand spear strike, much as Damrada had. But with the ultimate skill Samael added to the mix, she was able to control it perfectly, the Deathly Poison from Samael turning her five fingernails a dark purple. It was well beyond a lethal dose, and it crushed Damrada's defenses.
"Gnnh!"
Damrada fell, vomiting blood.
"Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Too bad, huh? I was right on target!"
The evil laughter echoed. Damrada tried getting up again but failed. His entire body was so drained of energy that he could barely close a fist, much less stand up. But still he gathered his strength and stared at Ultima.
"That is no Smashfist, you fool. It was a spear-hand strike. As if you could copy me after just one look… But the power behind it…was excellent. Call it…'Bloody Deathhand' instead, perhaps…"
Damrada gazed upward, a satisfied look on his face as he beheld the sky and remorsefully chuckled to himself. He was completely defeated. Long before he could challenge Guy to a final battle, the demon lord Rimuru's forces had crushed him. Perhaps some of the Empire's elites would survive, but it would be impossible to rebuild their position. Emperor Ludora has no time left to wait for the next opportunity. Before that, he needs to…
"Your Majesty," Damrada muttered, looking back on his life.
...…
...
…
"Will you listen to me, Damrada?"
"What is it? If it's more boring complaining, please save it for Lady Velgrynd. Or are you complaining at her, actually? Then bring it to her, not me. I don't
want her to think I have a grievance with her, too."
"You really are a cold person, aren't you? …But no, this is serious." "…What is it?"
He didn't want to know. He knew from the moment he looked into Ludora's eyes that this was a serious matter—but if he heard about it, their current relationship would cease to exist, and Damrada didn't want that.
"So it appears that every time I reincarnate, it wears my heart out a little bit. That or the 'soul,' the way Guy describes it—but either way, if this goes on long enough, I may wind up not being me any longer."
The resurrections of the Hero Ludora were not magical in nature. They involved a special ritual, crafted to help the new body inherit the old one's overblown magic force. This was the cost for becoming both a god among mankind and the owner of a force that even surpassed that of a True Dragon, the ultimate spiritual life-form. It was up to Ludora and his own skills to manage that process; Damrada had no solution for him.
"The wearing of the soul, you say? And it would cause Your Majesty to cease being yourself…?"
"Right."
"That's a funny joke. But I'm not so naïve as to take it seriously and reduce your workload, you know."
"Eesh. Still all serious like that, huh?"
"I think that's what I'm best at, yes."
"Ha-ha! Maybe so, yeah. Well, forget about it. Stupid to ask anyway." "I will do just that, then."
There was no forgetting. Damrada was just running away from it. He wanted to serve Ludora forever, maintaining the current relationship they had.
So time passed.
"Ah, I knew it… Every time I'm reborn, it seems, I lose something important to me, little by little. The problem is, I don't even know what."
"Your Majesty…"
"Hey, Damrada?"
"Yes?"
"This is an order. When I am no longer myself, I want you to kill me by your own hand."
"Emperor Ludora!"
"I can't really ask Velgrynd to do it, can I?"
Damrada struggled mightily to keep himself from saying he couldn't do it, either. This was the heartfelt wish of his best friend Ludora; there was no way he could deny him.
"That is a terribly weak-minded thing for you to say, my liege. But should that happen, I promise you that I will settle your affairs for you. So please, I hope you can rest assured as you go about your political duties."
"Hee-hee. You never change, do you? Then it's settled."
It was a promise made on a distant day.
And time marched on again…
"I am tired. I can only keep Michael, Lord of Justice, from going out of control for so long. Absolute justice is no better than evil, when you get down to it, for there's no such thing as a justice that can be accepted by all."
"Your Majesty…"
"Damrada, do you remember your promise with me?"
"Of course I do, my liege."
Ludora smiled. "Good, then." He changed his expression, giving a stern order. "Damrada, I hereby order you… You must find someone who can overcome Michael, Lord of Justice, and defeat me, should you yourself fail at it! It pains me to ask you to do this…but while I am still myself, I need to take all possible precautions."
The order was tantamount to Ludora asking Damrada to wipe him from existence. But Damrada had no choice but to nod.
"You have my word, Your Majesty."
"Thank you," Ludora replied. "And my apologies." His eyes pointed far away, his speech pointed toward no particular target. "This Michael was entrusted to me by a friend, but looking back, it might have been too much power for me. Whether I win or lose my game against Guy, I think next time will be the last occasion I ever use it. I intend to use it well…but if you see any signs of it going out of control, please do not hesitate. Stop it, and stop me as well."
"Yes, my liege."
"…Please."
Ludora closed his eyes, recalling the oath he had given to Veldanava the Star King Dragon long ago and feeling frustrated at his inability to keep it. A small murmur escaped from his mouth: "If you fail at this promise…I will apologize to you in the afterlife."
Damrada, pretending not to hear it, quietly left the room.
...…
...
…
Choking on the blood seeping out from his own mouth, Damrada was brought back to reality. He seemed to have lost consciousness for a few tenths of a second.
Your Majesty, I… I owe you an apology… You gave me your orders…and I failed to fulfill them…
In his inner consciousness, already threatening to fade again, Damrada attempted to state an apology. But it was not to be. All he did was cough up blood again.
There was regret. But there was also relief. To Damrada, the edict to seek out someone to kill his beloved master was nothing but pain. It had made him suffer for far too long. And of course it would, because to Damrada, Emperor Ludora was every bit the brilliant hero he had always been.
How could I ever kill the one…who I value so much…?! Why did it have to be
me? Couldn't it have been someone else?! Without you, I would have no lingering regrets about this world. I would gladly join you on your journey to the afterlife…
That was what Damrada truly felt. The game between Ludora and Guy was of no importance to him. What mattered was Ludora's will, and the way that will was reflected by the world.
Guy Crimson was an arrogant demon lord, but he was no tyrant who refused to listen to reason. His rule was absolute, but he still worked on a proper framework of rules that he stuck to. He and Ludora had different ideals, but they weren't incompatible with each other. From Damrada's point of view, they could have come to a mutually acceptable agreement. Guy would never move on his own. Ludora was sure of it; that must've been why he issued his orders to Damrada.
But if they understood each other that well, why did they even bother keeping up with this game? It made Damrada wonder—but there was no way he could disobey Ludora, so in the end, he carried the order out. The journey would bring him all around the world—but after leaving the emperor's side for many years, he found the right candidate.
This was Yuuki Kagurazaka, a boy who had the extremely unusual ability Anti Skill. Even ultimate skills could be nullified by this, Damrada was overjoyed to find. He was glad to find something that could work against Michael, Lord of Justice…but the results were disastrous. Yuuki was now square in Ludora's hands and could no longer be relied upon.
So Damrada lost his ace in the hole, but now another question arose. "…Why did His Majesty try to rule over Yuuki?"
"Huh?"
Ultima reacted to the unintended murmuring. Damrada didn't answer it. Ludora himself ordered Damrada to find someone who could kill him. Why would he then interfere with that effort?
…Or maybe Damrada just didn't want to admit it. The signs were there from the beginning.
"…So it really was true… His Majesty, Emperor Ludora… He's already…" Damrada kept muttering as if suffering from a high fever.
"What're you talking about?"
Ultima was sounding clearly irritated, but her voice would never reach him. He was far too absorbed in his own thoughts—a pre-death moment of clarity. His mind was sharper than ever…and now it could arrive at the truth.
Ludora burned with his ideals—his drive to unite the world and establish a lasting peace. He dreamed of an end to conflict and poverty, and the rise of a more developed mankind. Only when the entire world was united and at peace could everyone live as true equals.
Believing this, Ludora set out to establish a united nation. He believed humans have the innate ability to understand each other—and from the bottom of his heart, he knew they could all unite under one will to create a better world. So he became a Hero serving all mankind, facing great hardship as he did. He never stopped pursuing his struggle, hoping it would bring smiles to the faces of as many people as possible.
And Damrada loved him for it. But even now, Ludora's ideals had ended while they were still a dream. He himself had changed too much before the day that dream came true.
The ideals we pursued were crushed long ago…
Damrada finally had to admit it. It wrapped his mind in sadness. "Are you crying?"
"…Yes."
"Because you're afraid to die?"
"…No. My promise…"
"Your promise?"
"…Yes."
Inescapable death had Damrada in its hands, refusing to let go. He could accept that much as inevitable—yet the one thing he couldn't stand was not
being able to keep his promise to Ludora. But if Ludora's original will was long gone, then who really was Ludora now? There was just one answer. It was the ultimate skill Michael, Lord of Justice, unchanged from when Veldanava the Star-King Dragon gave it to him.
Damrada needed to carry out Ludora's orders before his spirit fully collapsed…but his life was running out before that could ever happen. He wanted to curse his own incompetence, but even now, he decided the situation was not at its worst. He had to stop Michael at all costs, and if he failed, he needed to find someone to entrust the task to. That was Ludora's order to him, the promise he had to keep—and he had found Yuuki for that.
But there was one other candidate he had in mind. Rimuru, the fearsome demon lord, his greatest enemy and also his greatest hope.
"I want you…to kill His Majesty… Kill Ludora for me…"
"Huh? Why me?"
"It doesn't have to be you. Can you at least…relay the message…to the demon lord Rimuru for me…?"
"Aw, c'mon, let me do the honors! 'Cause I'm sure open to taking the job. I was planning to kill that Ludora guy anyway."
Ultima was always up for satisfying a new whim. She wasn't going to take this job for free, but she did have a liking for Damrada. They had fought for only a short time, but for someone with an infinite lifespan like Ultima, battle was about quality over quantity anyway. This was an intense battle, packed with ups and downs from start to finish, and after that experience, she was willing to forgive just about everything.
"Then let me ask you…one more favor…"
"What?"
"Protect him… Protect the boy Masayuki…"
Damrada was fully convinced. Masayuki was the one—
"Well, sure, I guess. But you got a reward for me, right?"
Demons never worked for free. That wasn't an absolute rule; there were
plenty of loopholes, but Ultima was feeling selfish. She wanted to annoy Damrada a little, so that's the approach she took. But the question still relieved Damrada. He felt a new peace, like his heart had been freed.
"Your reward…is all of me. I entrust you with my soul…and all of my skills, etched deep into my body…"
"Mmm, that'll work, I guess."
Ultima reluctantly agreed, making Damrada break out in a smile. And then: "Your Majesty… I will come to you now…"
Those were Damrada's last words. He breathed his last and died, as if falling asleep. So the curtain finally came down on the long life of Damrada, Lord of the Fist, former prime minister of the Kingdom of Nasca, and close personal friend of its United Emperor, Ludora Nam-ul-Nasca.
Now Ultima stood alone in the battle arena of an alternate dimension.
"Well, that's no fun. His heart core disappeared on me. I was gonna offer it to Sir Rimuru, too…"
Despite that saddened muttering, Ultima still gently wrapped Damrada's body in her twelve wings. As they agreed upon, she took all of him as her own—and that was the end of the battle between the two.
One Lord of the Fist ended his life, and a new Demon of the Fist was born.
Damrada, at the very end of his life, had given one of the worst demons in history one of the most dreadful powers known to mankind. If he knew about this, would it have filled him with shame? Or would he be happy to learn that his craft would be used by a third generation? Now that Damrada was gone, there was no way to know. It would be up to the survivors to carefully weigh the fallout.
"Well, I suppose I'll be dealing with you, then."
Agera made the announcement to Kondo, standing in the center of the arena. Kondo's eyebrows twitched as he silently placed a hand on his sword. He
didn't answer Agera, but instead glanced over at Carrera.
"Don't worry. I'll serve as an observer."
"Don't make me laugh. As if I could ever trust you."
Kondo finally opened his mouth, and his words were scathing. If they were both his enemy anyway, he was saying, they might as well both tackle him at the same time. But Carrera was unaffected.
"No, maybe not, I suppose. I don't see two-on-one as a coward move, and nobody's gonna go easy on you here. This time, though, it's what Agera wished for. So please, don't worry about me. Enjoy yourselves!"
Having had her say, she sat down atop the stone wall around the arena, like this was no longer any of her business.
Kondo shrugged. "What a farce… But I respect your spirit, at least." Then he drew his military sword and faced up to Agera.
"My thanks. Now, let's get down to—"
Agera was interrupted by a hollow bang. He fell to the ground, clutching his chest.
"You!"
Carrera, closing the distance in an instant, flew in between the pair. Kondo's sword, which was even now about to descend upon Agera's head, was stopped by her blade.
"Hmm. You were fast enough at this speed?"
Kondo, the still-smoking Nambu semiautomatic handgun in his left hand and his military-issue sword in the right, looked straight at Carrera.
"You thought I would, wouldn't I? If you were serious about your business, Agera would've been destroyed. Am I wrong?"
Kondo had never explicitly stated that he would accept a match with Agera. It was Agera's fault for failing to confirm his intentions. Besides, he made far too feeble an effort to truly finish him off—something Carrera, who parried his blade, innately understood.
Someone as strong as Kondo would never have lost in a head-on battle against Agera. If it were fought with swords alone, maybe they could've had a lively, pitched battle—but even so, Kondo's victory was unassailable. But Kondo opted for a surprise attack instead, because he knew Carrera was waiting in the wings. It would be ridiculous to ever trust the words of a demon—and even more foolish to heed the words of a demon. That was the ironclad rule of warfare—eliminate all the uncertainties you can.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have all day, you know. I don't have to put up with your farcical nonsense."
Kondo sniffed at Carrera, as if this was all below his standards.
"Well, if you say so. But if you're interested, I could serve as your next opponent?"
"With that sword?"
Kondo pointed at Carrera's blade. It had been cracked by the blow, and Carrera herself knew a few more good blows would break it entirely.
"Oh, of course not. I can replace it, but I have something better than that. I think you know what I'm talking about, Agera?"
"…Of course. A pity that I could not cross swords with a practitioner from my own school…but this, too, is following my teachings. I have no reason to complain. But I cannot say I like how you disarmed me with such obvious disdain."
Agera stood up as he spoke. The hole in his chest was already closed. Kondo had shot him with an Eraser Bullet, which absorbs and eliminates the target's energy equivalent to the amount of magic force imbued in it. If it had been a Necrosis Bullet, Agera would have great difficulty standing up right now. As Carrera correctly guessed, and as Agera realized now, Kondo clearly didn't give him his best effort.
But it meant Agera could still fight.
"…Blade Transform."
He transformed into a sword—and needless to say, it was Carrera who took it
up. Her magic force filled Agera, refilling his lost energy. The blade shone, indicating that Agera's spiritual force was back to full.
"A foolish move. I only let you off the hook because you lived by the sword, much as myself…"
"My kind love to fight, all right? The exact method is none of your business."
"I see. Well, it's not important now. That person committed the unforgivable sin of deceiving our school's founder…and I will do everything in my power to make you pay."
To Kondo, Carrera was just as guilty for holding Agera in her hands. The hostility was clear in his voice as he took his stance.
About an hour into the fight, Carrera was on her knees.
Kondo was strong, unbelievably so: truly a master. To Carrera, he was a monster beyond imagination. And she knew she was good—but she now understood that there was always someone better out there.
She might not have been able to defeat Diablo, but she knew that she'd never lose to anyone else. But Zegion had little trouble dispatching her, and during this war, she put up a pathetic performance against Velgrynd. So she wasn't surprised that Kondo was making quick work of her. In fact, she was thrilled by it.
Carrera rolled on the ground, putting some distance between herself and Kondo. Then she stood up, her sword pointed straight ahead.
"Not bad! Agera praised my sword skills a lot, but I sure can't hold a candle to you."
"Silence. That gets on my nerves, considering you've been fending me off by sheer force alone."
Kondo, too, had an ominous feeling about Carrera's fighting sense. Now was no time for pussyfooting around, so he had gone all out from the beginning— not just with his sword strikes, but with a generous amount of the ultimate skill Sandalphon, Lord of Judgment, sprinkled in. But he still couldn't fully finish off Carrera—something he inwardly found both amazing and horrifying.
They had both recognized each other as worthy opponents by now, and from there, the battle raged even more fiercely. Carrera struck Kondo with a forceful blow, blocking his attempted slash. Kondo lightly parried the move, aiming at Carrera with the gun in his right hand. Loaded inside was a Dispel Bullet, built to disable the target's magic, and what Carrera did next explained why Kondo felt the need to fire it.
Without a moment of spellcasting time, a gravitational force field was built around the arena. Kondo had chided Carrera as nothing but "brute strength" a moment ago, but instead of taking that to heart, she just tapped her strength even more. This invocation wouldn't affect her at all, but it would do a great deal to slow Kondo's movements…or so she hoped.
Anticipating this, Kondo chose to counteract it with a Dispel Bullet.
His strength lay very much in the versatility of his skills. The ultimate skill Sandalphon had four effects in all, and he could tap into one or the other depending on what the times called for. The Removal Bullet broke down its target's defensive barriers; the Dispel Bullet blacked out magical effects; the Necrosis Bullet destroyed magic-based healing; and the Eraser Bullet was a highly precise magical strike, identifying the target's essence and consuming its energy from the inside. All of these abilities could also be placed together in a single, all-powerful shot—the Judgment Bullet.
Up to now, Carrera was still daring enough to cast magical attacks that required spellcasting time. That was in the past now, but even so, all of her spells were being canceled out the moment the magic invoked itself. Kondo had an accurate beat on her, and he wasn't making any mistaken choices. What's more, he could fire any kind of bullet he wanted whenever the opportunity came up. If she couldn't assess and deal with them, even a single one could be a painful blow to Carrera. One moment off her guard, and the duel would be over instantly.
Kondo was carefully analyzing this battle, not letting his emotions get the better of him. It was a mechanical approach, even—spot the enemy's weak points, figure out the flow of magical power, and take suitable countermeasures. That was all there was to it. But by sticking to the fundamentals, Kondo had reached his position as strongest in the imperial
armies. That made him the exact opposite of the emotionally driven Carrera, but still, they were also similar in some ways.
"You're a pain in the ass," Carrera said, shaking her head before asking in a friendly manner, "How do you know when I'll cast magic?"
Kondo gathered his breath as he replied. "Heh… It's simple. I just thought about what I would do in your situation."
"Aha. A very simple explanation."
Once again, Carrera found herself liking Kondo. But at the same time, she grew increasingly aware that this was an adversary like none other.
He's reading the magic flow required to cast a spell, then cutting it off with complete precision. And that's how he phrases it? Come on.
"What I would do" sounded like such a trite excuse. But even as she bitterly mused over that, she couldn't hide the joy on her face. Having an opponent you could fight at full force against was sheer bliss. The demon lord Leon, for example, was a fighter whose strengths even Guy attested to. She expected a satisfying fight against him, but he refused to take the bait on her provocation. It was tremendously frustrating and disappointing, but if she had Kondo now, she could enjoy herself to her heart's content. To her, after all, the process of the fight was far more important than the outcome.
"Well, good… Very good. Kondo was your name, right? You're the greatest enemy I could ever want!"
Kondo just sniffed away the praise, preferring to express his opinions with his sword instead of his tongue. He slashed at Carrera—and even this lefthanded, single-hand strike was true. A truly beautiful demonstration from a master swordsman, and Carrera had to rely on both Agera's skill and her own intuition to parry the barrage.
After a while of this, a certain habit of Kondo's began to dawn on Carrera. His left hand held the sword; the other, his gun. That was his fighting style, but when he fired his gun, his eyes and finger muscles would involuntarily move in tandem, revealing the bullet's trajectory. It was a tiny quirk, something only Carrera could have ever spotted, but the flaw was still fatal enough to
potentially decide the fight.
Here!
With perfect timing, Carrera swung his sword away. Kondo, about to fire a gunshot, failed to immediately respond—and despite himself, he held out his gun to catch Carrera's sword. His reaction speed was up there with the best in the world, but it wasn't enough to stop her.
"Let's see you pick on me now! I've just taken away one of your weapons!"
Thanks to the twisted, off-balance stance he took to stop Carrera, he couldn't fully resist the demon's powerful strike. It wound up costing him his gun. The Nambu semiautomatic clattered to the ground.
Carrera was delighted to have this bit of revenge against Kondo. But then something gave her the creeps. As soon as she felt it, Carrera followed her instincts and jumped back from the spot.
Kondo's sword cleaved through the air.
"Tsk. Missed my chance."
The next thing that fell to the ground was Carrera's severed left arm. Not even her orichalc skeleton could resist the force behind Kondo's blade.
"Youuu!!"
Carrera was enraged. But her heart remained calm enough to recognize the reality of this situation, even though she was trembling in humiliation.
Now she knew that she'd never defeat Kondo like this. And as if to prove it, Kondo was now holding his military sword with both hands. It was a complete picture of beauty; he seemed like a completely different person from before. He had no intention of relying on his gun from the beginning, and now Carrera understood that he was trying to create an opening to lure her into all along.
Once again, Kondo had been looking down on her the entire time. He was at least an even match for her with his blade alone, but instead he was putting on this show the whole time to hide it…
He was hoping to take me down easy with that, I'm sure…but even a master like him's using dirty tricks instead of showing off his full talents? I find that hard
to forgive.
It made Carrera let out a shout.
"How dare you damned human beings berate us!!"
In a fit of rage, Carrera took a step forward to tear Kondo to pieces. But at that moment:
(Lady Carrera, please wait.)
Agera, still transformed into a sword, spoke to her.
Carrera and Agera were now almost as one—connected by Thought Communication, of course, so it was possible for them to talk to each other through their minds. So, in a field of consciousness stretched a million times over by Carrera's ability, their conversation began.
(What is it, Agera? I'm busy right now, you know. Get in my way, and I'll kill you, too.)
(Calm down, Lady Carrera. Losing your cool is exactly what Kondo wants from you.)
(I know that. But he made me out to be a fool, you know. Me, an overlord! How could I ever forgive that?)
Agera's chief role lately had been to stop Carrera before she got carried away. But he had never seen her this angry before. He hadn't, but if he didn't take measures right now, Carrera's defeat was inevitable.
So, as earnestly as he could, he tried to persuade her.
(Listen to me. Kondo hadn't been relying on his sword since the beginning— and not because he thought little of you, either.)
(Why is that? He's clearly belittling me!)
(No, he is not. In fact, it is quite the opposite.)
(Huh?)
(He recognizes you as a threat, Lady Carrera, and that's why he is trying to conceal his hand. Not everyone is born innately strong like you, do you understand me? And it is a natural thing for any warrior to consider all due
measures against a strong enemy!)
(So what're you saying? He recognizes me as a strong fighter, then?) (Yes, exactly!)
Agera made the strongest argument he could. Kondo had fully mastered a complete style, making it his own, but he had still basically inherited Agera's style. He was serious about his craft, no doubt, but that was why he didn't break it out from the beginning, only choosing to do so now. The slight opening he revealed when firing his gun must have been caused by his nerve-wracking training; the only reason he went with that move now was that he decided Carrera was formidable enough to take the risk against. He never would've tried anything so tricky otherwise.
(…I see. You have a good point, yes.)
After careful persuasion, Carrera finally saw things Agera's way. He breathed a sigh of relief.
(I'm sorry to worry you, Agera. I feel like my eyes have been opened.) (I am glad to hear that.)
(Here, let me promise you that I won't make you worry any longer. All right?)
With that declaration, Carrera turned toward Kondo again. Then, out of nowhere, she struck herself in the face with the back of her fist. It was a full power blast, one that seemed to make her head explode—but, unperturbed, she flashed Kondo a smile.
"Oops! Did I startle you? Well, don't worry. I wasn't being very coolheaded about any of this. I mistakenly thought that you were looking down on me. But you humans really are amazing, aren't you? You really will play all kinds of tricks to win. The idea never occurred to us, so it's kind of surprising."
She was all smiles about it, but now she realized how important it was not to underestimate your enemy. She was by no means letting her guard down, but without Agera, she would've been taken in by Kondo's scheme just now. She used to allow herself to be endlessly selfish—but that past was over. She was now a loyal servant of the demon lord Rimuru, and so she acted in accordance
with her orders. Defeat was one thing, but death would be unforgivable.
Carrera admonished herself. That's what that blow was for—that, and it was a way to state her resolve. Carrera recognized Kondo as an adversary, one of the same rank as her. It was a very sober thought, quite unlike her typical, capricious self.
"Like, no way, you know? No way I would ever go all-out…against a human, you know?"
Knowing she was the strongest of all races made her conceited enough that she never really gave her all before. She thought that Kondo was going easy on her, and it required Agera's intervention to put an end to that. It was a blunder, and now that she realized it, she finally got serious. She flashed her horrible smile, one that looked boundlessly beautiful to Kondo.
"So the demon's treating this seriously now? A rather unwelcome turn of events for a hapless human such as I."
For the first time in this encounter, his expression changed. He now saw Carrera as a worthy enemy.
"Very well. I, too, will take this seriously."
With that declaration, Kondo put on his "armor" for the first time. It wasn't a uniform manifested by the power of his will, but a spiritual outfit of pure white, a God-class piece given to him by Ludora. It was modeled after the ceremonial uniform of the old Imperial Japanese Navy, and while it didn't make Kondo look all that different, the aura he presented seemed like something else entirely. To Kondo, this uniform was also the garment he would have been buried in; as a lieutenant, he vowed to carry the guilt of all the men he had let die. He wanted to hold that resolve close to his heart, and so he decided to fight in this.
Looking at him, Carrera released the full extent of her magical force and reintroduced herself.
"I am Carrera, Menace Lord and faithful servant of the demon lord Sir Rimuru. By my pride, I swear I will kill you."
"I am Tatsuya Kondo, former lieutenant of the Imperial Japanese Navy and current commander of the Imperial Guardians…and I hereby accept your
challenge."
The two warriors stared each other down, quietly building up their power. Now the real battle would begin.
Carrera picked up the fallen left arm, lightly putting it against her stump. That alone was all it took to reattach it like nothing had happened.
"A little unfair."
"Oh, don't be that way. Sir Rimuru gave me this precious body. I can't afford to leave even a scratch on it."
The conversation was light at the moment, but both sides were looking for an opening. Kondo had his reasons for letting Carrera heal her arm. Now that he had given up his sidearm, he'd be fighting exclusively with his sword—the default form for the Oboro school. On the other hand, it meant he had no other secret trick left to pull out. He was deadly serious about this, putting everything he had on the line, and now that he held his sword in both hands, he was confident that no enemy could defeat him.
Kondo's unique skill Decipherer allowed him to fully grasp Carrera's movements—every twitch of her muscles, the flow of magic force throughout her body, even the telltale signs that a spell was about to be invoked. This was linked to the ultimate skill Sandalphon, and its performance went far beyond the realm of a unique skill. That was why he didn't miss the fact that Carrera's power was growing at an alarming rate.
It was a true torrent of force, all but symbolizing the demon's sheer tyranny. And yet there was no stagnation at all to the flow; it all moved as one, as if unified by some great will. This mighty deluge would normally have resulted in a powerful explosion, but Carrera had it fully under control. What a monster, Kondo thought. Not even a trace of the grievous arm wound he landed a moment ago remained—even her clothes were repaired, in what seemed to be a cruel joke. All this raging energy was concentrated on the demonic blade Agera had transformed into. Being united in mind and body with Carrera completed the cycle.
Kondo could barely abide by this, but now he noticed a sign that troubled him even more. Astoundingly, in the very center of Carrera's magic, a fearsome crystal of power was about to be born. Kondo had an idea of what it was. He himself had one, so he knew—it was something seen when a living mind was materialized.
She… Ahhh, I knew it. She's trying to obtain an ultimate skill!
The moment he realized it, Kondo went on the move. He needed to eliminate this enemy at once, no matter how powerful she was. That was why he put on his ceremonial uniform, a symbol of his dedication. There was no room for defeat—he must win, by fair means or foul, and only through victory would right and wrong be decided.
Kondo continued to inspect Carrera as he finished his preparations. His sword was all he had left; pushing all his power into it, he slashed at the demon.
"Good, good! That unwavering eye of yours… It sends me into ecstasy!"
Kondo continued to swing, not lending an ear to Carrera's squeals of joy. His swings were parried by her demon blade, but the power of Kondo's military sword was nonetheless massive—without Agera's will housed within, it might have broken her weapon right there.
"You…?!"
It was a honed, heavy slash, one that made Carrera grunt out loud.
The secret to this military sword's force lay in the will placed inside of it. Kondo's ultimate skill Sandalphon worked on more than just bullets. His will— his soul—was in this sword, and only then was the true essence of his power revealed. That was Kondo's true secret move…and when he had to fight for keeps, that's how he did it.
So Kondo's onslaught began, immediately putting Carrera on the defensive. He was determined to end this bout before Carrera could awaken to her ultimate power, using every trick in the book to push her into the corner. Even when she manipulated her sheer violence to fire off an attack of ponderous force, Kondo deflected it all without so much as blinking. Kondo clearly had the advantage in fighting technique; the only reason why this match kept going was
because of Carrera's huge magicule count, not to mention the skills of Agera on top of that. Without both, Carrera would have been annihilated long ago.
Even now, a slash imbued with the power of an Eraser Bullet cut through Carrera's left side. She had taken many of these slashes to her limbs already, but since they had a Necrosis effect applied to them, they were wreaking havoc on her magic vessels. Even her link with Agera was now being affected.
"You…"
Carrera bared her teeth as she stared at Kondo. It was a bad idea. However strong he was, she thought she could handle him if she put her mind to it—but Kondo wouldn't be that easy on her. Even with Agera's aid, he was superhuman, more than enough so to outclass Carrera.
This human… This damned human! Awakened to Saint or not, how can a mere human corner me like this…?
Despite her disappointment in herself, Carrera put her right hand on her left side, which was cut open and leaking magic force. She tried to heal it, but her magic vessels were too out of control for it to work well. Normally, a wound of this level could be repaired without conscious effort—but even when she actively tried to heal, it was still like this. No matter how bold and careless Carrera could be, she was fully aware that this was an awful state of affairs.
As Kondo knew, the strength of one's will can also affect how superior their power is. Kondo was a man who had attained an ultimate power entirely on his own. Compared to Carrera, who had an unlimited lifespan and lived her days however she wanted, the nobility of his character was without question.
With the pain that was torturing her even now, Carrera understood the difference. A skill is meaningless if it is just given to you; only when you wish to acquire it can you make the most of its essence. Carrera was superior to Agera in all respects—species, physical prowess, vitality, everything. Thanks to Agera's aid, she was equal with her opponent…but she couldn't win. In fact, they were on the verge of defeat.
If this keeps up, will we lose? Will I be destroyed…killed? Me, one of the overlords of the all-powerful demons…?!
It was absolutely unacceptable. Carrera's pride would never allow it, and more than anything else, it'd be against the orders of Rimuru, her beloved demon lord. If it ever happened, she feared, it'd be such a blunder that he might kill her a million times and still not feel sated. She might have been fearless in all other ways, but not being able to follow Rimuru's orders terrified her.
"I could never allow it!"
As soon as she shouted that, Carrera's bloodshot eyes ogled Kondo. Forcefully regenerating her body to heal the wound, she readied herself. Deeper and stronger than ever, she made a wish—a wish to beat the man before her.
Until now, she had only been fighting with her all-dominant demon force. But it wasn't enough. Those who dwelt in the ranks of the ultimate were untouchable to her—as true for Diablo as it was for Kondo. She knew now that anyone who awakened an ultimate power was impossible for her to defeat— and if they were, she was no match at all for Guy Crimson, who stood at the very pinnacle of the world. Simply boosting her power wasn't enough. No matter how hard she struggled, she'd only be cannon fodder for the more powerful.
Now that she was fully cornered, it finally dawned on Carrera. If she wanted to fight the truly powerful, she needed to understand herself more deeply—and what she needed the most for that was a strong will. And that was the moment when Carrera, a spiritual life-form, sought the power of will, the very essence of it all.
In that case, let me help you a little.
She thought she heard a voice—and the next moment, Carrera felt something that had been nagging her in the back of her mind take shape. She turned her attention to it—this manifestation of her wish, her determination. Until now, it was just pure power raging inside of her, something she controlled and tapped into as necessary. Now, however, it was time to recognize that power as her own…and release it.
But any ultimate power needs a name.
…My power… Let me give you a name. You will become my skill, and further
release your force in order to fulfill the role Sir Rimuru gave me. Your name…is the ultimate skill Abaddon, Lord of Destruction!
Abaddon. The destroyer, the one who destroys—and the king of the abyss. For the Menace Lord, no power could have been more appropriate. Now she finally had it. The absolute, undeniable power to destroy everything.
The ultimate skill Abaddon, Lord of Destruction.
It was the embodiment of all Carrera's desires. A fearsome power that, once released, would bring certain destruction to its opponents. It took encountering a truly powerful enemy for Carrera to desire power for the first time—and now, that encounter was about to come to an end.