"Hahaha, then let this noble Demon King have some fun with a lowly demon like you! Dying at the hands of Clayman might just be the greatest honor of your life!"
Watching the Three-tailed Fox and puppets being drawn away by Xiao, Clayman couldn't help but curse under his breath.
But who was he!? One of the elegant and noble Ten Great Demon Kings, Clayman, known as the Puppet Master. He had to remain elegant at all times!
Outside the arena, Guy looked over the battlefields that had already been divided and turned his gaze toward Diablo, his eyes filled with interest.
Compared to Rimuru and Clayman, Diablo intrigued him far more.
Black was a special color.
Unrestrained and unconventional—those were the symbols of this color.
Other colors might have ranks and hierarchies, but black had none. Aside from The Original Black, it didn't matter who you were. Even if you were an Original, so what? I just won't bother with you. I don't give a damn about anyone!
"I didn't expect this guy to acknowledge a master too. That Slime? How interesting!"
The interest in Guy's eyes grew even stronger.
Meanwhile, Clayman looked at Milim, who stood opposite Rimuru without moving, and immediately cursed.
"Milim, you idiot, what are you doing? Hurry up and kill that damned Slime for me! Damn it, useless trash!"
After receiving Clayman's "order," Milim took a single step forward and instantly vanished from where she stood. Raising her little fist, which shone with blazing sun-like magicules, she smashed it viciously toward Rimuru.
The force and viciousness behind it carried more than a little personal grudge.
Facing the fist charging toward him, Rimuru could only dodge it using his instincts and Raphael's Thought Acceleration.
As for why he didn't take it head-on, Rimuru wasn't stupid.