48th Move | The Casualties of War

Rimuru could only stare as Scientia disappeared into the ornate metal gate that would fit perfectly as the entrance to a place like Buckingham Palace. The amusement derived from the shock of the green-haired maid that came to collect the Perfect Homunculus when she saw her subordinates were short-lived. It was as if the maid couldn't believe that the newly minted Demon Lord was able to summon such powerful individuals as Diablo and Jeanne.

After the four people entered, the metal gate closed itself before vanishing from existence. The darkness and silence that previously retreated from the lively atmosphere returned like the high tides, basking Rimuru in its embrace as he stood within the depth of the Great Jura Forest, feeling oddly contemplative.

There's a feeling of foreboding inside his stomach, a nervousness about the future as if tonight will drastically change the world.

Well, that's not wrong. Falmuth and Jistav will be Tempest's canvas to paint a picture of just how strong a nation mired in technology was. It will show the world that the 'Great Game', as Scientia had called geopolitics, was shifting once more.

Effectively, Tempest will be like a black hole: the world will revolve around the Republic, dancing to its tunes and continuing its orbits, or otherwise be devoured.

What a grim thought. A rearrangement of the current world order, with Tempest on top.

"World domination... that's a goal for a supervillain."

But if someone had to achieve world domination, the slime would choose Scientia. Personally, Rimuru thinks she is the only individual who knew the burden and responsibility that comes with commanding an entire world, and he trusts her.

Looking at the night sky filled with stars, Rimuru internally noted how different it was compared to the sky above Tokyo.

"Universal supremacy... that's a goal for a megalomaniac..."

But only if it wasn't possible to achieve. Rimuru knew beforehand that Scientia spent a lot of time up in space, and he also knew that Scientia had much more advanced technology she hasn't shared yet. Again, he trusts her, especially since the Perfect Homunculus knows more than him, and so gave her full authority to do as she likes up in space.

'Rubedo.'

Rimuru called out to the Kijin through the [Soul Corridor].

'Yes, President?'

'Is the troops ready?'

'Yes, Mr. President.'

'Let's do this, Operation Jistavic Freedom is a go'

'Right away.'

Grasping on the handle of Kusanagi, Rimuru unsheathed the katana and embued it with his magicule before setting the control element to that of 'distance' and slashing the area in front of him.

The tip of the blade disappeared as though it embedded itself into an invisible animal. After the swing was completed, a thin, black rift materialized, steadily thickening until it was large enough that a person can walk right through.

Let's end this, Rimuru thought as he walked through the rift in space.

The slime appeared on a podium in the middle of the closest military base to Jistav. In front of the podium stood Officers ready for war, with each wearing their war uniform rather than the ceremonial one.

The war uniform was a grey armored bodysuit that completely covers an Officer from head to toe. It was streamlined, which kinda reminds Rimuru of a motorcycle riding suit but only more solid. According to Scientia, the helmet and visor is where most of the cost went, as apparently, it contained a full suite of sensors and communication devices to coordinate with both command, orbital satellites, and nearby troops

The bodysuit was protective enough that a whole skyscraper can fall on the Officer in question and only maybe the outermost layer of the graphene composite material will be scratched. It also contained a wide array of qualities of life improvements like Stilling Shields to reduce the effect of G-force upon the wearer, cooling and heating systems to ensure said officer can operate at a comfortable level even in standing on lava, an oxygen extractor that can take oxygen from water, and many many more.

Powered by a micro-fusion reactor, the war uniform has an assistant AI that will make even a small toddler into a Special-A rank threat capable of single-handedly toppling a small nation.

And hundreds of them stood in front of Rimuru. All of them stood in clear formations, professionalism practically oozing from their bodies as they waited for Rimuru to speak.

Seeing them, Rimuru couldn't help but recall how just a few months ago, these people were nothing more than some ragged orcs, dilapidated goblins, and battered humans.

But now, one could never imagine that such a thing was the case.

Scientia really outdid their training... The slime noted and cleared his throat.

Glancing down at the small card in his hands, Rimuru raised his head and continued.

"My esteemed comrades of the Grand Republic Military! Tonight, we stand at the precipice of destiny. Caused by a rare moment of vulnerability granted to us by Demon Lord Clayman's absence in the Demon Lord's Banquet, Walpurgis. In this fleeting moment, we have the extraordinary chance to dismantle the chains of tyranny and liberate the lives of over 100 million individuals!"

Pausing for a slight moment, Rimuru glanced down at his card before continuing.

"Tonight, we embark on an Operation that will etch our names into the very annals of history itself. Tonight, we will show the world that authoritarianism is no longer the order of the day, but instead, freedom is! Allow me a moment of transparency with you, my fellow Officers, for the path that lay ahead will not be easy. We shall face challenges, trials, and a battle that may demand sacrifices in blood."

Rimuru paused to look around at the crowd, all looked like they were ready to die for the cause.

"Knowing that, in the name of fairness and autonomy upon which our society is built, I extend an opportunity to those among us who may feel apprehensive or uncertain." Rimuru reached out with his left hand as if to offer something, "If you choose not to partake in this history-defining campaign, I will personally assure you, your decision will be respected and accepted. Your worth as a soldier will not be reduced in the eyes of your fellow Officers or your nation."

Rimuru waited for anyone to leave. Personally, the slime didn't want anyone to leave, though those who did may be on the fence and are looking for someone to go first before following. It reminded Rimuru of all those times he's been peer pressured into doing something he didn't want in his old World.

"For those that remain, shoulder to shoulder, with unwavering determination, know that you march not as blind followers, but as conscious agents of change. Together, we will unleash a tempest upon the forces of tyranny. We shall sweep away oppression and pave a path for a brighter future."

Finally, Rimuru unsheathed Kusanagi. The blade gleamed.

"Remember, my fellow Officers, our cause is noble, our intention righteous. Let the flames of liberty burn within your hearts as we embark upon this Operation. The hour of liberation has come, and together, we shall be the tip of the spear that will pierce the very heart of darkness. We shall end one of the largest state-sponsor of slavery in the world!"

The slime suddenly dropped the sword until it was parallel to the ground.

"Onwards then, let us seize this opportunity and liberate those tens of millions of slaves within Jistav!"

"""Onward! Onward! Onward!"""

"""LIBERTY, EQUALITY, FRATERNITY, RATIONALITY!"""

The Officers underneath him began to chant while raising their fists in the air. If this was in his old World, Rimuru would've said it was a magical moment. The ability to rile up a crowd was truly an art form, and it was really fortunate that Scientia was so skilled in it.

Rimuru let out a smile before sheathing his sword and raising a hand, stopping the commotion.

"You will be given one hour left to prepare, Operation Jistavic Freedom commences the moment that one-hour ends, starting... Now."

The crowd dispersed to get ready. Members from all species worked harmoniously as mechs, trucks, and supplies are ferried around to their intended destination. A.A.A. pilots worked with the automated maintenance depots and rearmed. Autonomous Marines streamed out of Doorways and lined up in rows of hundreds.

Rimuru then opened another portal using Kusanagi, this time connecting to the planning room inside the Hexagon where all the higher-ups are currently situated.

At the center of the dark room lay a holographic map that displays almost every detail concerning the entirety of Jistav, Milim's domain, and the Eurazanian-Milim border.

Getting closer, the general staff quieted down and saluted him. Since Scientia wasn't here, Rimuru is the Acting-Commander of the Grand Republic Military.

Sitting down and taking one good look at the map, Rimuru could spot the capital and several cities in Jistav and Milim's domain, with areas colored in red presumably being Clayman's forces.

"What's the situation?"

As the slime spoke, he noticed how a large percentage of the 'red' gathered east of the Ameld, which was on Milim's side.

Rubedo reached forward and then started to expertly move his fingers to manipulate the hologram, focusing on different places before ending up on the largest pocket of redness slowly moving across the Ameld River.

"Just as the Commander had predicted, Clayman officially issued a declaration of war against Eurazania approximately three minutes ago. With this declaration, the first of his troops are now moving across the mighty Ameld and streaming into Eurazania as we speak. Our current plan for the main army is to trap them by the riverside in a pincher maneuver using Doormaker—"

Rubedo drew lines that sandwiched Clayman's army.

"Since Clayman have little to no air assets, once we trap their army, we'll start carpet bombing the whole place with a mixture of incendiary and cluster munitions. Mass casualty is our goal, though if there are any survivors, we'll treat them for propaganda purposes."

With another flick of his hands, Rubedo changed the holographic table to display Jistav itself.

"However, our primary goal will be to invade Clayman's lands and liberate the people inside from tyranny. To best achieve this goal, Commander Scientia determined that because of how centralized Clayman's command is, the whole nation should fall in line when we take their capital. There are no other good spots for a second capital since Jistav's next largest city has only about 30,000 people."

Turning to face the humanoid slime, Rubedo finished; "We of the general staff have already prepared an Official Declaration of War for you to sign, Mr. President. It should arrive momentarily."

With that, the door to the war room opened as a single orc Officer who was decked out in his war uniform walked in, escorted by two Autonomous Marines that couldn't fit through the door so they merely stood outside.

"Sir, Madams." The orc saluted, much of the large belly that orcs were famous for was still there.

As the orc Officer placed the briefcase on one of the cabinets standing near the wall, Rimuru couldn't help but notice how there was little to no difference in the uniform aside from it being larger to accommodate an orc's larger body.

All war uniforms were standardized in capacity, though there are some variations for different species. For example, the one for Lizardmen has the heating always turned on to accommodate for the specie's cold-blooded nature.

Reaching into the opened briefcase, the orc officer took out a file of paper with a pen clipping into it and handed it carefully to Rimuru as if it was his baby.

Glancing the title in big bold words, it read: 'Official Declaration of War', followed by; 'The Jura Tempest Republic hereby declares a war of liberation against Puppet Nation Jistav, for the trafficking and attempted enslavement of four Tempest Citizens in the Tempest-Jistav Border Incident—'

Wait, what?

Rimuru racked his brain for any mentions of a Tempest-Jistav Border Incident only to come up empty.

Trafficking has always been a nuisance in remote areas of the Republic, where the reach of Scientia's technology has been less far-spread. Being highly educated, Tempest Citizens make for excellent teachers instead of workers, imaginative writers that can come up with wonderful stories, and poets that can recite works of great literature with ease. Because of how expensive a Tempest Citizen is on the market, only the richest can afford them, and they are treated more like expensive jewelry or a status symbol because to treat them like chattel like any other slave is to waste money.

Why buy a single slave that can work the labor of ten when it costs a thousand times the price?

Of course, the Jura Tempest Republic is legally required to ensure the safety of all its citizens. Whether by a spec ops strike team organized by the military or Scientia herself just teleporting them out, those enslaved citizens are always brought back. If they're unfortunately deceased, typical retribution involves financial sanctions, asset destruction, and even assisted suicide for the more 'egregious' buyers.

"What is this?" He pointed at the 'Tempest-Jistav Border Incident'.

Ririna's eyes lit up once she saw what Rimuru was pointing at.

"Ah, that. It's our 'Casus Belli' as the Commander called it, our justification for this war of liberation. We colluded with the Ministry of Justice and offered some imprisoned traffickers a deal: we staged an incident involving four informed and carefully selected citizens who will be kidnapped and will be brought to the Tempest-Jistav border. Just before they get within ten kilometers of the border, one of our sentry drones picked all the traffickers off. This happened just yesterday, and we plan to release information about the incident alongside your declaration of war to prevent such tragedies from happening, Mr. President."

Rimuru was instantly put off by the explanation.

"Is that even legal? Or constitutional?"

"Yes, it is. We got the victim's consent by paying them a few million dollars of hush money. Beyond that, Clayman won't be able to deny his involvement in this incident, and since he isn't likely to leave the Walpurgis alive... well dead man tells no tale." Ririna tilted her head as she finished, akin to someone being confused about being asked such a question.

Intentionally staging a justification for war... and using pretenses... sounded a lot like a false flag operation.

Thinking of false flag operations made Rimuru immediately recall the Marco-polo bridge incident that kick-started the Sino-Japanese war and brought incredible misery and suffering to the people of his old World.

Grimacing, Rimuru continued to read the declaration of war.

'The Jura Tempest Republic finds Puppet Nation Jistav to be a state-sponsor of numerous trafficking ring that operates within the forest. Thus, the Jura Tempest Republic will now proceed to declare war with the goal of regime change within Jistav, and to end the horrific practice.'

"I assume the truth about the Tempest-Jistav Border Incident is top secret?"

Ririna nodded, "Obviously. It'll seriously damage the Tempest government if such information were to be leaked. Though to be honest, I don't think anyone would actually believe the whistleblower if this information does get leaked. Clayman made it really easy to accuse him of this incident by making his state so reliant on slaves."

The amount of sense that statement made to Rimuru has him questioning just how many conspiracy theories in his past life were actually factual. The slime remembered a specific passage about lying when he read a light novel, it was supposedly about how the best lies are those that contain a kernel of truth, or was it a foundation of truth?

The memories of that specific light novel have already faded by much, so Rimuru continued on and signed the Declaration of War.

After that's done, the same orc Officer picked it up and placed it in the briefcase. He saluted once before turning around sharply and leaving.

Recalling the events of the second Iraq War, Rimuru slammed his right fist into the opened palm of his other hand, instantly acquiring everyone's attention.

"I'll also need to make an official announcement telling people about this war. Though, given how this plan relies on the lack of Clayman, how long does a Walpurgis usually last?"

Rubedo replied, "From what we know of using historical data of nine different Walpurgis, we've come to the average of being a single day, with the shortest mere hours and the longest a week in length."

The gears inside Rimuru's head started to turn. That's a really short period of time to attack. To deal with both Clayman's army and Jistav's capital simultaneously and ideally finish before Scientia returns...

"What's the exact plan here? Give me all the details concerning the siege on Jistav's capital."

This time, it was Ririna who had begun to explain like a teacher talking to their least favorite student.

"Being so old and rich, we assume that Jistav's capital, Amrita, has great anti-teleportation capacity as well as numerous mages on stand-by to defend the capital. Keeping the Sea of Broken Glass incident in mind, the Commander decided to deploy aid from the Ministry of Magic. With Albedo in the field, that should neutralize most, if not all of the advantages that magic can afford the defenders. Still, with that said, we plan to use Doormaker to set up a Doorway 12 kilometers east of Amrita before carefully advancing with our A.A.A. and bombers ahead to soften the city first."

A green blob slowly advanced upon Amrita on the holographic map. Explosions periodically occurred to simulate battle.

Rimuru grimaced. In his past life, Satoru Mikami has always been anti-war. In school, whenever talk of a foreign war or about Japan's past, Satoru always advocated for peace, enough that he's been bullied for it.

'Girly boy', they called him, 'spineless' was the most common insult hurried his way.

Just because he refused to fight back against the beating doesn't mean he's spineless.

Snapping his fingers, Rimuru really emphasized the point he was about to make.

If war must come, then he shall fight with honor. The slime then recalled the Samurai Code: 'death before dishonor'.

"Make avoiding civilian casualty a top priority to everyone, even above achieving victory."

Ririna furrowed her brow. Lips thinning, the hobgoblin looked like she wanted to argue before relenting.

"Very well. Having low civilian casualties would make people less likely to resist our troops, what with their family members still alive. We'll send that message."

_____________________________________________

Metropolis Barrack, Female Locker room, T-20 minutes before Operation Jistavic Freedom commences.

The block pistol hummed as Eren checked her given weapon once last time. The glow from the neon lights felt soothing, and it helped take her mind off the battle that is about to commence.

And off what had happened a few days ago as well.

Sitting on a reinforced bench, the elf glimpsed down at her own body, clad in dark armor that makes her into a superhuman one-man army. Unlike unenchanted armor, and even some enchanted ones, these felt incredibly comfortable. Like Eastern Silk on the skin, it didn't feel heavy at all, and Eren actually never once sweated inside these things since apparently, the temperature is dynamically controlled by an AI assistant held within the armor.

Wearing this and moving around made Eren feel like what those S-rank warriors must've felt like; their limbs as light as air itself; their body more agile than a storm tiger; their eyesight seeing details on the moon itself at night; their speed fast enough to cross all of Ingrassia in half a day; their single strike can break down a castle wall as if it was made out of sands.

The cost alone is probably more than most people make in a decade. At the very least.

And the most important thing; the helmet on her lap. Apparently, this thing cost more than the armor.

From the outside, it looked like one you'd find on the head of those who drove the two-wheeled motor vehicles. Wearing the helmet made it so that even if you were deep inside the planet, the connection between you and higher-ups will never falter because of something called neutrino-based transmission. Moreover, after testing a bit, it appears the helmet can also read her surface thoughts and intentions since they moved perfectly along with her movements.

It's like a second skin.

The feeling is only amplified when the war uniform barely required any maintenance, so Eren could wear it all the time so long as she's inside a military base.

According to the war uniform's instruction manual, it's also got plenty of life support systems. From nanite blockers to stop bleeding to super organs that can temporarily replace the function of damaged ones, the war uniform really made it clear how much the Military cares about its Officers.

The back of the helmet opened up like the petals of a flower blossoming. Placing it on her face like a mask, the petals of the helmet closed in over Eren's head, encasing it.

Within moments, the darkness that greeted her vision was replaced by multiple interfaces and displays— heads-up displays, as it was called. The visor showed all kinds of information about her immediate surroundings as it turned on. From more immediate ones like temperature, moisture, and gas composition to more esoteric ones like the constant meter used to measure the value of the local physical constants and spacetime curvature compass, all of it was shown to her.

Supposedly the last two are to detect if magic has been used.

"Welcome, Officer Eren Eiwald. T-19 Minutes until Operation Jistavic Freedom starts."

The AI spoke directly to the headphones covering her ears.

The parts of the helmet that are touching her face felt cold. Her study at the military academy told her the temperature control made sure she wouldn't be sweating and fogging up the visor, a potentially lethal mistake.

The visor then displayed a map near the corner of her eyes. The map displayed the topographical details around her and underneath that, the timer for the Operation's start.

Standing up, Eren checked her pistol again before placing it back inside the hoster. Then, a burning whip came out of her left gauntlet. Supposedly, the material that this whip is made out of disintegrates atoms upon touch because it's made out of a very thin sheet of magmatter, so it's an excellent omni-cutting tool.

It's also shaped by magnetic fields.

Looking at the left bottom corner of her visor, Eren spotted a 1.7 ms of delay with the Machine-Brain Interface of the war uniform. A bit slow it seems.

Finishing gearing up, Eren got up and strode toward the Airstrip-03 where the rest of her teammates were supposed to gather.

_____________________________________________

At Night, Ameld River, Milim-Eurazania Border, Operation Jistavic Freedom

The mighty Ameld River is the longest and widest river in the world. Its primary river basin takes up the entirety of the eastern Jura Forest, with it even reaching partly into the domain of the Eastern Empire.

This river was the source of life for the entirety of the Jura Forest and its many inhabitants both downstream and upstream. However, being the mightiest river has also become an issue for Yamza, one of Clayman's direct subordinates, one of his 'Fingers'.

Building a river across the Ameld has always been challenging. Unlike a normal creak where the rushing water's depth only reach one's ankle, the part of the Ameld that separates Milim's domain and Eurazania is half a hundred meter deep at the shallowest part. Beyond being so deep, the water's speed is also fast enough with plenty of hidden torrents that trying to swim across the place is suicide for any non-aquatic or amphibious demihumans and monsters.

The Ameld's danger is exemplified when Demon Lord Kazaream's army attempted to invade Eurazania 450 years ago, the Curse Lord tried to cross the Ameld, only to get washed away into the sea by a sudden flash flood.

This is why Yamza wants to strangle whichever subordinate of Demon Lord Carrion that destroyed every single bridge that connects Milim's domain with Eurazania.

Still, Yamza was nothing if not adaptive, so the majin used the frost sword given to him by Clayman to freeze the surface of the Ameld, creating a temporary bridge strong enough for his armies to cross.

Looking at the swarm of majins crossing the river reminded Yamza of those yearly horned wildebeest migrations that happen in the Barren Lands. Every autumn, millions of three-meter-tall horned bovines migrate across the Barren Lands alongside clouds of magicules so dense it would suffocate a human in under a second.

In his younger days, Yamza once hunted those bovines. Their horns were a prized commodity, being an excellent magical ingredient for potions.

Tracing the sides of his armor, a feeling of phantom pain flashed across Yamza's mind, causing his eyes to snap shut.

Dangerous, those wildebeest are. Their hide was so tough due to the constant exposure to magicules that only the younger ones were viable targets. In Yamza's personal opinion, you'd need to be a Demon Lord to hunt those adult ones and a step above that to hunt the really ancient wildebeests.

Still, Yamza stood on the cliff overlooking the crossing like a lighthouse. To anyone looking, it would appear he's standing vigilance over his soldiers.

Looking at the other side of the river where it was decided they shall set up camp for the night, the Middle of Clayman's Fingers reviewed exactly what he was ordered to do... and found those orders wanting.

He was ordered by Clayman to annex the fertile lands of Eurazania, arguably the most fertile lands in all of the world.

That's no longer the case after the attack by Milim.

Yamza's subordinate reported how a black rain came from the skies on the day after Milim's attack. Poison. Those black rain were a sinisterly slow poison that condemns a majin to the most agonizing of deaths if one drinks them too much.

Wherever that black rain fell, the land turned into poison as well. Fruits that were grown by Milim's people made people sick and vomit.

Yamza was forced to rely on supply from Jistav or imported food.

Hearing a new footstep behind him, Yamza turned around to find a messenger.

Annoyed, and a tiny bit anxious, Yamza leaned in to receive the message—

"WHAT?!"

Yamza grabbed the messenger, a birdmen majin, by his shoulders and glared into his eyes.

"What the fuck do you mean Tempest just declared war on us?"

The messenger brought his hands up to try and calm Yamza down.

"I just got the report, sir."

Yamza growled. Just as he was about to scream at his underling for this incompetence, parts of the star-filled night sky suddenly turned fully black, as if an artist had painted over the stars above, catching Yamza's attention.

Squinting his eyes and focusing on those areas of blackness, Yamza could make out a faint outline of purple almost invisible.

Had they been any fainter, Yamza could've never even spotted them.

It was then that something probed the edges of Yamza's [Clairvoyant Sense].

Unlike normal [Magic Sense], Yamza developed his own version that focuses on the range while blurring the details. The [Clairvoyant Sense] was his secret trump card as the Commander-In-Chief of Clayman's army, and it won him many battles since he could sense the movement of enemy troops from a hundred kilometers away.

It was only after probing a further three times those things made a beeline for Yamza's position.

It could only mean one thing: someone's attacking from the air, and they're crossing that one-hundred-kilometer distance rapidly.

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" Yamza yelled to his underlings, "TELL EVERYONE TO TAKE COVER, WE GOT SOME AIR ATTACKERS APPROACHING RAPIDLY!"

His subordinates ran to spread his order to the rest of his troops.

Within less than a minute, those rapidly approaching things were within visual distance of Yamza, finally allowing him to see just what exactly was attacking him.

"...what?"

Confused at the fact that pitch-black triangles were closing in, Yamza tried to see if there were any souls in them, only to find nothing.

Automatons?

The fact that there were a lot of lightning elements within each flying triangle seemed to affirm that suspicion. At least they were slowing down to a speed below that of sound.

Just then, the bottom of these flying triangles opened up, and a huge amount of heat started to build up.

Oh no.

"TELL OUR MAJINS TO GET OFF THE BRIDGE!" Yamza bellowed out another order.

Immediately, the triangles dump out as one would a volley of arrows a vortex of concentrated heavenly fire down into the river, creating explosions of extremely hot steam as the water vaporized, rapidly expanding and taking up a larger volume.

As the triangles approached, Yamza could not help but be mesmerized by the bright ray underneath those flying automata.

Heavenly Fire was one of the trump cards of an experienced fire mage. During a thunderstorm when Yamza was young when he was huddled inside a bedsheet scared of those loud noises, his mother gently explained to him how lightning was made out of the heavenly fire— something that mortals have been able to control thanks to magic.

Three streams of heavenly fire rained down upon the water as other black triangles flanked his troops.

Even from half a kilometer away, Yamza could feel the heat from the fire that came down during thunderstorms. As they further neared, it soon became unbearably hot, causing the Majin to bring up his frost blade to create a shield of cool air.

The world roared with a thunderous noise when those triangles finally passed overhead, blowing Yamza away from the river.

The heavenly fire instantly killed whoever is still on the bridge, vaporizing half their flesh while the steam cooked the rest.

It was a merciful fate, for those who died by the plasma attack since the majins near the river were bathed in steam with a temperature as hot as lava. They were literally cooked alive with them managing to feel every last ounce of pain because steam doesn't destroy nerve endings like fire.

It was a terrible fate for anyone. The death was more agonizing than being burned alive.

Yamza got up, relatively unharmed but dirtied. The majin saw how the rushing Ameld River that served as an impassible barrier that separated Milim's domain and Eurazania now became a snake of moving steam. The small valley upon which the river flowed was now filled with rolling fog, except that 'fog' has a temperature hot enough to cook a person alive in less than a minute.

Well, that's if being in contact with the melted river bed doesn't kill them first. The molten ground gave the steam snake an eerie orange glow as if it was a long lantern.

It was as if someone had transported a volcanic geyser here.

Yamza figured hundreds of majins must've died from that attack with a further hundred seriously injured with varying degrees of steam burns.

Once the black triangles passed them by a couple of hundred meters, they all began to bank left and return for a rerun.

No, not just those three. [Clairvoyant Sense] alerted Yamza to many other black triangles closing in like wild dogs going in for the finishing blow.

"SCATTER, TAKE COVER!" Yamza bellowed out another order as he started charging his frost blade for a counterattack.

The triangles neared, flying three-quarters of a kilometer into the air.

Yamza didn't lower his blade. The majin has fought against experienced fire and lightning mages, and the heavenly fire attacks from them have very short ranges.

They're too high to drop those streams of heavenly fires, so what exactly are they doing?

Yamza's question was answered when silver containers shaped as an elongated teardrop fell from the triangles akin to water from a knocked-over bucket that was placed too high.

Is it giving birth?

That was the question on Yamza's mind as he stared at what was happening.

About a hundred meters in the air, the teardrop split open into smaller teardrops that continued speeding toward the ground—

*KABOOM*

A series of massive explosions of raw heat materialized into existence the moment those teardrops hit the ground. It was as if someone had put Yamza's face mere inches away from a blacksmith's open furnace.

The radiance from that explosion was bright enough that everyone was forced to advert their eyes.

It was then that the screaming started.

Majins burned. The fire that came from the explosion was strange, it was incredibly bright, burning more of a white rather than the typical colors and it didn't behave like a normal fire, but instead more like a thick oil that clings onto skin. Majins ran as flames covered them, serving as a spark to dry kindling when more of the white flame spread into the untouched grass surrounding the explosion.

Yamza was familiar with those screams. He was put in charge of interrogation after all, but never once in his entire life had he ever heard so many of those kinds of screams— the sound of desperation, the sound of unbearable pain, the sound of a wish for release.

Some majins tried to help. Some tried to cast water spells but to no avail. Water did nothing to smother the flames, only to make them much, much stronger and hotter. Ice quickly melted before being vaporized under intense heat. Only those air spells helped relieve some of the pain when they made a vacuum around the burning majin.

However, the moment air returned, the burning continued.

Looking around him, Yamza saw how he was surrounded by a ring of fire, probably the same kind of oily fire that burned his majins.

He's been trapped.

"Fuck."

Those black triangles went in for a second run, dropping more of their payload in the form of those silver teardrops.

These... they're probably Tempest forces... they want to annihilate the entirety of Clayman's forces.

Yamza had to crack a smirk at that. The Commander-In-Chief could respect that ruthlessness even when it's used on him.

Still, seeing how this offensive is a lost cause, Yamza decided that now would be the best time to abandon ship.

Conjuring up a teleportation circle in his hands, the Middle Finger tried to escape, only for the circle to collapse into nothingness.

"Huh?"

Before Yamza could ponder the question anymore, streaks of light— heavenly fire— filled his field of view accompanied by more majins falling to the ground, dead.

Those streaks of light came from these bulky humanoid metal monstrosities that came out of a smaller version of the portal that those black triangles came out of. They blended almost perfectly into the night if it weren't for the flashes coming from their weapons.

His soldiers were dying by the thousands, falling like wheat to a farmer's scythe. So many streaks of heavenly fire came from these humanoid automatons that it was leaving temporary scars in Yamza's vision.

It was pure chaos. Everyone running on the raw instinct of fight or flight. Most scurried around like rats that have been discovered while a few tried to fight back in futility.

Turning to the other side of the river bank, Yamza saw it was pretty much the same thing: streaks of heavenly fire from those metal automatons, majins running around trying to escape, and a few tried to fight back after realizing they'd been boxed in. Those few majins who could fly did and were promptly shot down by the focused firing of the magic-less golems.

He grunted in frustration, a memory of what Mjurran said echoed inside his mind as the majin readied his Ice Blade.

'Clayman never cares about anyone other than himself. Sooner or later, you'll end up being thrown away after your usefulness has run out.'

"Ha, I guess you were right Mjurran."

The number that remained alive was quickly dwindling with how fast these metal monstrosities were killing them, mercilessly blasting away at the retreating majins. Looking around to assess the situation, Yamza saw that there were hundreds of flashes of light every second.

What are these metal automatons? Who built these golems? These questions ran through Yamza's head as he saw the battle— no, more like a butchery, and he can't even use the butcher to his own advantage since Adalman isn't here!

Damn it where the hell is the Dragon Faithful??

Just as one of the dark automatons aimed its lance of heavenly fire at Yamza and pulled the trigger—

A horrible screech rang out into the night when Middray, the Head Priest of the Dragon Faithful, threw a massive boulder at the Autonomous Marine, causing the android to be pushed along with the boulder as if it was a bulldozer.

There was a massive crash as dust and debris exploded when the boulder hit the ground. Like bowling pins, numerous Autonomous Marines were knocked around by that boulder when the rock merely did a glancing blow.

Yet walking out of that veil of dust was the same Autonomous Marine. A massive dent can be seen and its weapon a broken wreck but otherwise, it was operating at full capacity.

Middray, the tall, bald, and muscular dragonewt, then announced as the attacks paused for a moment.

"Despite my disdain for Clayman's weak forces, mindless slaughter isn't what we of the Dragon Faithful practice either," Middray got into a combat stance, flanked by Captain Hermes of the Dragon Faithful, "We have lost, please stop this slaughter."

_____________________________________________

Thousands of kilometers away, Global Operation Center, Hexagon.

The Hexagon was the headquarter of the Ministry of Defense. Usually, this is the building where all wartime operations and control should be situated, however, in the event that some amount of delicate hands and discretion are needed, Commander Scientia would instead lead from the Citadel.

The Hexagon, as its name suggested, was a flat hexagon taking about 150 acres of land right outside of the Capital. Like many government buildings around Tempest, many of the internal rooms were empty because there just aren't enough employees to staff them all, so most of the Hexagon was populated by autonomous drones that maintain the place to a pristine standard.

While many trotted about how wasteful it was to construct such a large building, the Commander still went ahead in anticipation of future growth in the military.

Currently inside one of the more restricted rooms within the Hexagon lies the High Command of the Tempest Armed Forces, otherwise known as the 'general staff'. Oddly enough, the room looked strikingly similar to a university's lecture room, with a huge monitor being the focal point.

Ririna stared at the monitor that filled one side of the room, currently focused in on Middray.

Being currently the highest-ranking Officer, Field Marshal Ririna had total control and can send out whatever orders she wished with the lower-ranking Officers being able to add their own perspectives and opinions but ultimately, any major decisions ends up being decided by Ririna.

While some Officers have raised the concern that such a centralization of command may lead to certain inefficiencies or vulnerabilities to decapitation strikes, many of those concerns were dismissed thanks to advanced technologies.

Inefficiencies in communication or an overwhelming amount of information were reduced thanks to artificial intelligence and ubiquitous communication devices. Decapitation strikes were an almost non-issue given how the general staff resided far away from the actual battle.

Biting her thumb, Ririna thought of what to do next.

"What shoulder we do, Field Marshal?" One of the nearby younger Officers who sat by a computer asked.

Inside her mind, Ririna was weighing the outcomes of whether to stop or continue. The oath that she swore said to be honorable in actions during wartime, and yet...

The hobgoblin's eyes narrowed. Her Unique Skill [Warmaster] gave Ririna almost precognitive intuition on how to win a battle. Right now, even without it, Ririna could tell the battle would be a stomp.

Setting a precedent matters more. The enemy doesn't define terms, Tempest does.

"Thin out the herd more until there are around 1,000 survivors. Prepare our field hospitals to take in those 1,000 survivors and give them the best treatment possible. Order our Officers to retreat and have the Overwatch Military System take over those marines."

_____________________________________________

Ameld River.

>Overwatch Military System, Online.

>Assuming direct control over 300 Autonomous Marines... successful.

>Retreat for cover.

Half a minute has gone by ever since Middray's ultimatum. No one moved. The battlefield was tense and filled with the silent hope that the slaughter is finally over.

The hope bloomed when the Autonomous Marines started retreating. Every majin soldier breathed out a sigh of relief thinking they'll get to see their family again.

> Change to Firing Pattern Delta

That was until the slaughter began anew, only this time the machines were further away.

Unlike before where there were streaks of intense plasma channeled through a small pathway of lowered electrical resistance, now the marines were firing small, but rapid pulses of plasmic blobs.

In essence, the Marines now possessed automatic machine guns instead of semi-auto rifles.

Unprepared for this, large swathes of majins and members of the Dragon Faithful were cut down in an instant as if they were overgrown grass in front of a lawnmower.

"Cowards!" Middray screamed before rushing in toward where the Marines were standing. He did this to hopefully draw attention away from others and to himself since he's likely the most powerful individual here.

Appearing in front of the nearest Marine half a hundred meters away in less than a second, Middray threw a punch that contained the full force of his Special A-rank strength and it went through the Marine's chest.

> Commence micro-fusion reactor overload.

Instead of shutting off as other automatons tend to do, the marine in question moved closer and held Middray close as if it was giving a warm hug.

Before Middray could even react to what was happening, the Autonomous Marine glowed with heat as the magnetic confinement field upon which the nuclear fusion plasma was contained turned off.

Plasma in the hundreds of millions of degrees— the temperature at which fusion occurred— went wild, rapidly vaporizing the marine's internal circuits before—

*Boom*

An explosion that is comparable to a bomb containing 100 kilograms of TNT materialized with the Autonomous Marine as the center. The night temporarily receded as a tiny second sun appeared on the surface of the planet.

> Change target: Designated: Alpha. Unit 016, 019, 030, 084, 182, 201, 264, 268, 329, 336, 437, 522, 603, 695, 718, 897, 908, 948, 966, 992, continue and speed up euthanization efforts. All units on euthanization effort, change to Firing Pattern Gamma. Extreme prejudice permitted for Designated: Alpha. No survivors.

Of the original 300 Marines deployed against this invading force, all but 20 of them turned their guns into the black explosive cloud that blended perfectly into the night. It would confuse anyone watching since if they fire, the marines would be firing into the remains of a fireball.

It was like watching a futuristic firing squad executing a criminal as 280 Autonomous Marines sent intense, laser-like beams of super-confined plasma into the veil of smoke and debris, all at the highest possible power setting for the weapon in their hands.

In the meantime, while this execution was happening, the other 20 continued to sweep across the landscape with their plasma impactors firing at the pace of a machine gun. Hundreds of pulses of plasma sliced through the air, causing a fire when it didn't hit while carbonizing majins when it did.

The 280 members of the firing squad only stopped when if they continue any longer, the plasma rifle would overheat.

Middray was still alive. Barely. By using an Intrinsic Skill not often possessed by Dragonewts, Middray transformed his body to become more draconic; scales fully covered his body, sharp claws sheathed his fingers, his snort protruded as if it had grown like a tree, and he was now doubled in size with a pair of wings on his back.

Standing close to four meters tall, the burn wounds on Middray's body were now rapidly healing up with a passive, non-Skill-based biological regeneration that possessed a similar speed to [Ultraspeed Regeneration].

Because this is a purely biological healing factor, the Dragonewt was now glowing a deep red from all the waste heat that came as a result of the rapid cellular division. Since Dragonewts possess extremely long telomeres alongside a third strand of foreign DNA in the form of a triple helix model, cancers and age-related issues aren't a problem.

"RRRROOOOOOOOAAAAAR———!" Middray let out a loud roar that would've terrified any living being on the opposite side.

The Autonomous Marines stood still, vigilant, fully bracing against the loud sound. They didn't show any fear because they couldn't feel fear. The Narrow AI that piloted each marine and the Overwatch Military System doesn't even possess the ability to feel fear.

Middray charged into the machine crowd. The Head Priest of the Dragon Faithful lost himself in the bloodlust of battle with each swipe of his claws hitting hard enough to nearly incapacitate a single Marine.

With Middray taking the brunt of the attention, Yamza was considering making his escape and slipping away from both Clayman and this failed war.

Just as he was about to create a suit of icy armor and diving into the now-cooling riverbed, skating away even if it's likely futile given those black triangles can just give chase.

However, just as Yamza was about to do such a thing, he froze completely. As still as a stone statue, all movement— even microexpressions— was erased from the majin as if life itself had been taken out of him and now all that remained was a corpse puppet by another being.

'You have failed me for the last time, Yamza,' Clayman's voice spoke inside Yamza's head. Try as he might, Yamza couldn't move at all as his body was taken over by Clayman's Unique Skill [Puppeteer].

'However, you still have some value for me. Thus, before you die, do one last thing for me...'

Yamza reached into his armor and pulled out a marble that practically radiated evilness. It was something that was given to him as a 'gift' by Clayman before the war started. The Middle of Clayman's Fingers could do nothing but be trapped inside his own body as his hand came close to his face before forcing the marble down his gullet—

"Grrrrrrrraaaaahhh!"

White-hot pain rocked Yamza's body, echoing off walls and reverberating like sound in a canyon. The control of [Puppeteer] wore off as 'Yamza' was no longer Yamza.

The Majin's very genetic structure was being rewritten. Spliced. Modified. Altered. Transformed. Enhanced— developed into something new.

Yamza's current form wasn't ideal, so it was changed.

Like a balloon being blown up, Yamza's body enlarged in a grotesque manner, its once-human shape disturbed beyond recognition.

Arms that could once be described as 'human-like' contorted and contended as cancerous growths grew like mushrooms on a piece of rotten wood, the very bones themselves were either changing alongside this horrifying metamorphosis or being broken into dozens of agonizingly small pieces that caused internal bleeding as they stabbed into mutating muscles and flesh like shrapnels from a grenade.

As Yamza's genes underwent a forceful and violent rewrite, his cells multiplied at a truly ridiculous pace to add those additional masses. Using the surroundings and Yamza's own magicule as fuel, the extremely quick cellular division generated a scorching heat so hot that a blacksmith can use them to melt ores.

The Middle Finger of Clayman's Five Fingers became a mutated, pulsating, oozing, burning mass of cancerous flesh more reminiscent of grotesque monsters from The Blob or The Thing. Jagged teeth sprouted haphazardly from the quivering flesh, adding a further touch to the biological nightmare in the middle of this battlefield.

> Alert. New threat recognized. Designated: Foxtrot. Unit 999, focuses on the euthanization of Designated: Foxtrot.

The Autonomous Marine in question started shooting streaks of plasma that needled against the mass of flesh that was Yamza, burning and carbonizing portions of it that were immediately subsumed.

A legion of sinewy tendrils sprang forth from Yamza's altered form. They were like debris thrown into the air from an explosion, branching outward as if they belonged to a wicked tree. Once reaching a certain length, the tendrils split into several smaller appendages that then thrust into the partially carbonized bodies of dead majin soldiers that are still smoldering. Those who were alive tried to run away, but couldn't when the thicker tendrils stabbed right through them, spearing the soldiers as if they were pieces of lambs for a shishkabob.

Bringing them into the fold as if it was in the middle of a macabre feast, the abomination that was once called Yamza pulsated and threw more, longer tendrils with even greater ferocity as if to consume more to fill an insatiable hunger.

It was akin to witnessing a voracious school of piranhas swarming their prey in a feeding frenzy, or perhaps a vacuum cleaner devouring the dust inside a long-sealed attic no human have trodden on for years. Those tendrils grew smarter with each majin it consumed. Before, it was like a baby, lashing out at everything but now it became more methodical, moving with a chilling efficiency to better consume the deceased and the still alive with the ruthless effectiveness found only in an invasive species.

>Alert, Designated: Foxtrot has sudden growth in mass. Possible magic-based hegemonic grey goo-scenario: possibility rising. All Units focusing on Designated: Alpha speed up termination effort by 45%. All other Units focusing on euthanization effort focus on Designated: Foxtrot, a maximum effort for pacification required, Unit 016, 966, continue on euthanization effort, Exterminate. Airborne Unit 06, 11, 12, redirect focus on Designated: Enemy Leader, Level-4 firepower permitted, deliver payload: tactical antimatter bomb- unauthorized. Deliver payload: cluster potassium napalm. Euthanize.

Almost immediately, all but two of the Autonomous Marines started to blast solely at the fleshy abomination. The plasma continuously carbonized portions of the body that they hit, but compared to how large the rapidly growing cancerous mass was, it almost didn't seem to matter.

The air roared as three A.A.A. in bomber configuration swooped in and dropped their payload in the shape of a silver teardrop that later split into many smaller cluster munitions. These potassium napalm bombs exploded in a fiery inferno of light and heat, using the cancerous mass as fuel to burn a white flame that unleashed thick smoke which blot out the stars and moon above.

Until that napalm was smothered out when the flesh drew the burning part in, consuming it like any other foreign biological matter.

Middray paused in the middle of his attacks. Lances of plasma still battered against his skin, yet the Dragonewt was distracted by something else.

"This presence..." he stared at the burning Yamza, almost too bright to look at, "Impossible, Charybdis is dead!"

_____________________________________________

The Hexagon.

"...What the hell is that?"

That was the only thought on Ririna's mind right now. The hobgoblin stared at the live stream through the eyes of a reconnaissance unmanned aerial vehicle currently surveying the battlefield.

Though it was flying ten kilometers away from the actual fighting, its camera possessed enough magnification capacity to see in high definition of the burning, pulsing, puss-oozing abomination.

If this was the old her before she met the Commander, Ririna doesn't doubt how she'll be having nightmares about that thing in the future. But subtly using calming breathing techniques, Ririna projected a mask of confidence and indifference in the face of such a horrific-looking freak of nature.

The surface of the cancerous growth ripped as two opposing wings with the color blue sprouted out. It was like looking at a more perverted and disturbing form of a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. Then, a second, thing tendril shot out perpendicular to the wings.

Deep down, Ririna thinks she won't ever see caterpillars the same again.

Finally, with a single flap, the final form of the abomination was realized: a flying manta ray; Charybdis reborn, bursting out of its flesh cacoon like a butterfly.

"..."

Thanks to highly advanced camera technology, everyone in the room was treated to a very detailed video of Charybdis dripping with a purple liquid as it slowly rose into the air.

"Ma'am, what are your orders?" Her aide-de-camp asked.

Ririna's mouth remained agape, for who the fuck would think that Charybdis would return? After the Commander had bombed it so hard that the area where the original Charybdis died looked like the aftermath of a volcanic eruption, where bits of life are only just now returning in the form of small plants native to volcanic islands.

Hanging her head and staring at the gigantic monitor, the Field Marshal wetted her dry lips, the options available to her weighing heavily.

She could order a tactical antimatter warhead to be launched at Charybdis, but she fears given how expensive those are, the hobgoblin would disappoint the Commander.

Ririna doesn't want to disappoint her idol.

"Damn it," Ririna cursed under her breath, "I can't ask for Rubedo's help since he's busy with Jistav and the President."

Unlike in a certain world where the use of a WMD is seen as a massive escalation that will draw widespread international condemnation, here where individual powerhouses are strategic weapons like nuclear bombs, the deployment of such a weapon won't draw much criticism, especially from other Demon Lords.

Thus the Tempest Doctrine views weapons of mass destruction as entirely viable weapons to use in a conventional war. More accurately, they're to be used in an entirely military sense to root out the enemy from a fortified position.

Given how Yamza used his trump card and turned himself into a baby Charybdis, Ririna could spin that in the after-action report as Yamza becoming a fortress.

Reaching into her pocket, Ririna pulled out a device that anyone from Scientia's old World would say looked like a flip phone from the 90s. Tapping several times the Field Marshal managed to acquire a secure line to the department head of the Strategic Weapons Agency, the portion of the Tempest Military that deals with the primary components of strategic weapons such as the containment and storage of antimatter, nuclear material, and biological and chemical agents.

"This is Field Marshal Ririna, I am hereby authorizing the deployment of a low-yield tactical ten-kiloton antimatter hypersonic warhead upon the following coordinates."

There was no reply. There wasn't ever a need for a reply since the protocol for such a deployment of a low-yield tactical WMD was just to send it since it'll be the requester who bears the ultimate responsibility.

With that, Ririna placed the device back into her pockets before announcing loudly, "Get our troops out of there, make sure our airborne units stay out of the effective range of this antimatter warhead. We're taking out three birds with one stone."

With that, the fate of Clayman's army, the reborn Charybdis, and the Dragon Faithful were sealed.

"But ma'am! What about the Ameld River?"

"We already melted the river bed, it'll return!"

_____________________________________________

The Battlefield.

>New orders received. All Units teleport out, all Airborne Units, maintain the perimeter, and Airborne Units 06, 11, and 12, return to perimeter formation.

Almost immediately, every Autonomous Marine started to retreat. Those who could leave through a Doorway while those who couldn't were dragged to safety through a portal thanks to another Marine.

Middray was halfway into ripping one of the marines as if it was a piece of jerky when the retreat order was given out. Veins on Middray's forehead almost burst in anger at the apparent cowardly move, mistaking their retreat to be running away from him instead of the incoming hypersonic warhead.

"YOU COWARDS!"

Every single Autonomous Marine on both sides of the river was teleporting away.

Middray stomped several times on the ground until a small crater formed around him. Climbing out of the rim of the crater, Middray's anger turned to confusion when it saw a tiny bright dot in the distance above the treelines.

It was so far away that it would've been blocked by the forest that surrounds the place.

Looking at it, Middray couldn't help but recall all those times he's seen Milim approaching from the sky, descending like a star that fell from the heavens.

The bright dot quickly grew brighter and brighter, whereas mere seconds ago it was comparable to a tiny star, now it was like the moon, lightly illuminating everything.

It made Middray's hair stand on end as a feeling of foreboding overtook his stomach. It felt like Milim's wrath, only much worse somehow.

A crushing presence came from the object. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as Middray stared at the object that was now glowing so bright one could faintly make out the words inside a book underneath this kind of light.

It was all too quiet. And it was that quietness that finally snapped Middray into action.

Once the object crosses into the range of Middray's [Magic Sense], the Dragonewt felt a sense of burning, like a premonition of catastrophe, an apocalypse about to happen. Death stalked among the woods. Like a predator lying in wait in the tall grass, death waited to collect the large collection of souls that are about to die.

He felt like the ripe crops of a farmer, where said farmer is looking at the crops in anticipation.

Moments before the long, spear-like projectile possessing a flat, arrow-like head slammed into Charybdis, Middray rushed over to the half-dead Hermes— his junior— and threw himself with [Dragon Body] still active, serving as a barrier, a shield that protected the one underneath him from the incoming fiery annihilation.

It was deafening.

The antimatter warhead slammed into Charybdis and released its payload of a couple of milligrams of anti-iron suspended via magnetic fields inside a vacuum capsule emptier than the intergalactic void. An annihilation reaction that released energy equal to a ten-kiloton nuclear bomb materialized into existence, engulfing all of Charybdis in the span of a single millionth of a second.

_____________________________________________

The Hexagon.

A blinding flash of light replaced the steadily rising Charybdis like the moon with the sun during a solar eclipse. The fireball consumed the target, and the monitor in the war room was temporarily overtaken by static coming from the burst of gamma and other electromagnetic radiation before quickly returning to normal

A mushroom cloud steadily rose into the air, the cap itself lost much of its light as the stem became thinner and thinner.

Compared to the mushroom cloud from the 15-megaton antimatter explosion that buried the first Charybdis, this one was like comparing to a baby. At its zenith, the mushroom cloud that buried the second Charybdis reached no more than five kilometers when its predecessor had a height of over 30 kilometers.

Well, the predecessor was around 1500 times more powerful.

Even so, the majins who were near the ground zero of the antimatter explosion were obviously dead. If not outright vaporized, then the crushing shockwave would've scrambled their insides as if someone had pushed an active batter mixer in.

"Any survivors?"

"Less than a dozen."

Ririna placed a hand on her chin as she pondered about the number. Impressive, to have survived that near ground zero no less, even Officers in their war uniform would have trouble doing such a feat.

"They're all dragonewts?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Let them live, also send in medical VTOLs. They're Demon Lord Milim's people, not Clayman's."

The rest is now up to you now, Rubedo, and Mr. President.

_____________________________________________

AN: apologies it took longer.

Walpurgis next chap! get ready for an actual competent Clayman.