Traveler Starting from Type-Moon, Demon Lord Rimuru!

But looking at it now, the other party wasn't showing any restraint at all... they were being completely unscrupulous!

From the very beginning, the other party never said anything like "If you return the scabbard to me, I will do this or that."

Instead, it was just a single, simple sentence—if you don't give it to me, I will... kill you!

This script was a bit off... Merem Solomon looked down at the scabbard in his hand... feeling a bit dazed. Clearly, the most crucial item was in his possession, right?

Seeing Merem Solomon completely trapped in hesitation, Rimuru curled the corners of his mouth slightly—while Altrouge pouted and sighed inwardly.

After spending so many days together, she had completely figured it out. Compared to his strength and his talent for devouring others' abilities, what the White Knight was best at, and what he enjoyed the most... was controlling the entire rhythm of everything through conversation and a series of tactics.

This included their arguments, his negotiations with enemies, or even... the way he had seized the initiative in their actions after she became his subordinate, making her, the master, feel like nothing more than a puppet emperor.

He was skilled at manipulating hearts and seeing through the psychology of his enemies. Compared to crushing them with raw power, he clearly preferred to seize total control of the situation and then proceed to the next level.

And right now, Merem Solomon had clearly fallen completely into Rimuru's rhythm.

Altrouge knew very well what the consequences would be once one fell into this rhythm of Rimuru's. There would only be one outcome: unless the other party had the resolve to flip the table... then Rimuru, who held the initiative...

Would simply be the winner who takes all!

The reason she knew this was because she had asked him on the road—Rimuru had no intention of fighting the other party at all!

For the sake of the Dead Apostle Kingdom project, he didn't want to make enemies with any of the Dead Apostle Ancestors unless absolutely necessary. He had even prepared some bargaining chips for an exchange, but clearly, looking at the current situation... Rimuru, having gained the advantage, could now use those chips elsewhere.

It was at this moment that Rimuru began to launch his offensive again, suddenly saying: "Merem Solomon, as fellow Dead Apostle Ancestors, we shouldn't have any particular conflict. On the contrary, we share a common goal—"

"I don't have any goals... you don't need to use such things to shake me..."

"Is that so?... Then what if I said... I could help you completely liberate..."

"Princess Arcueid Brunestud?!"

"!!!!" *2!

In that instant, Rimuru felt two shocked gazes fixated on him. Besides Merem Solomon's look, which contained shock mixed with a glimmer of hope, there was also Altrouge's gaze, which was complex, angry, and quite helpless.

It was at this moment that Rimuru felt... he had it in the bag.

As mentioned before, Merem Solomon was a super admirer of the Crimson Moon and had sworn to serve only the Crimson Moon. Therefore, when the Dead Apostle Ancestors betrayed the True Ancestors and the Crimson Moon passed away, Merem Solomon became disillusioned and went into seclusion. Because of his resentment, he even joined the Burial Agency to turn around and cause trouble for the Dead Apostles.

But... Arcueid Brunestud perfectly inherited the power and appearance of the Crimson Moon... which resulted in... this guy also being a loyal fan of the White Princess.

This was his trump card, and also the reason he couldn't tell Altrouge, because he was afraid she would throw a tantrum... well, actually...

Rimuru glanced at the delicate little face beside him, which was already puffed up in anger, and felt a bit helpless—

She had already started throwing one...

Chapter 045: Commoner Magician, Is There Really No Future?

"Liberating the White Princess means..." Merem Solomon took a deep breath, only to hear Rimuru chuckle: "Ah, of course it means... the Serpent."

"I can make the Serpent disappear completely, just like... making your magical beasts disappear—" Rimuru raised his hand: "You look like you don't believe me."

"I have no reason to believe you..." Merem Solomon retreated another half-step in caution, but his tone and the hand gripping the scabbard had unconsciously loosened a bit: "That is the Akasha Serpent after all..."

The Akasha Serpent, also known as the EX-ranked Dead Apostle Ancestor, the one called the Infinite Reincarnator, Roa—although he was known for infinite reincarnation and his abilities were quite troublesome, belonging to an existence that focused specifically on the soul rather than the body in pursuit of "eternity," in Rimuru's view, this method of focusing on soul reincarnation without limit, not to mention whether it would cause a decline in mental strength like Orochimaru, would also lead to a decrease in strength due to the lack of compatibility between the soul and the body. Precisely because of this, the reincarnated Roa had not caused any major threats for several centuries.

As for the means to kill Roa, not to mention the various secret arts targeting the soul hidden in every corner of the world, even if Rimuru left him alone, there would eventually be something called the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception that would kill him. So, Rimuru never even thought about whether he could devour this thing called Roa! But that didn't stop him from spouting nonsense to fool others in advance.

"Then you don't have to believe me." Rimuru chuckled: "Release your magical beasts and try it out, see if I can make them disappear completely—"

"You guy..." Merem Solomon's youthful face wrinkled tightly. After a long silence, just as Altrouge, with her puffed-up cheeks, was about to lose patience, he finally raised the scabbard and his head, asking softly: "In other words, as long as I give you the scabbard... then Arcueid..."

"No." Who would have thought that upon hearing Merem's concession-like question, Rimuru shook his head cleanly and decisively to deny it: "You seem to have misunderstood my meaning."

"I told you, I am determined to get the scabbard. And if you take it away, you would have to sacrifice your magical beasts to stop my pursuit, wouldn't you? Don't you understand? Merem Solomon, the scabbard in your hand, as your only bargaining chip, is no longer enough to serve as capital for you to negotiate with me."

"If you want to leave safely, you must put down the scabbard. At the same time, I can add one small bargaining chip and threat—helping Arcueid or helping Roa, to me, there is no difference, is there?"

"You!" Upon hearing this, Merem Solomon suddenly looked up—only to hear Rimuru raise his volume, coldly interrupting his questioning, and continuing:

"Merem! I'll put it plainly: I have the confidence to liberate Arcueid from her slumber, and I also have the confidence to let Arcueid, or rather... let!"

"The successor of the Crimson Moon disappear from this world!"

"Put down the scabbard and leave now. I can spare you and your magical beasts, and then... grant you the honor of cooperating with me!"

"Because only in this way will you have the chance to bring enough bargaining chips when you see me next time, to let me help you..."

"Save Arcueid."

Having said this, Rimuru lowered his eyelids and said softly: "Otherwise... the Dead Apostles only need one princess, and from my standpoint... the one who will ascend to the throne in the future will definitely be the Highness I serve today. And as for the White Princess being an unnecessary threat..."

"It would be better to get rid of her, wouldn't it?"

This guy... Merem Solomon's little face was already completely wrinkled. He gritted his teeth, the anger in his heart erupting like a volcano. Using the White Princess as a threat—this behavior was, in his view, undoubtedly as abominable and rebellious as a traitor putting a blade to an emperor's throat to force others to retreat.

But he glanced around, then looked at Altrouge, whose blood-red eyes were fixed on him, seemingly ready to strike at any moment to vent her frustration. Bitterness flooded his mouth; even the word "despicable" felt like it was stuck in his throat, unable to be spoken.

Logically speaking, Arcueid was a super powerhouse who had inherited the power of the Crimson Moon and mastered the Marble Phantasm. Her safety was not something a White Knight could threaten, let alone something he, a follower, needed to worry about... but... but for some reason—

Looking at the other party's golden eyes, the firm and concrete tone, and the fact that Altrouge, despite being puffed up with anger, didn't interrupt the other party but instead stood silently behind him to apply pressure—he just felt... that the other party could actually do it.

Aura, sometimes, is really inexplicable, yet very strange.

After finishing, Rimuru faintly let the mist spread. No longer speaking, he chose to stare fixedly at Merem Solomon to apply pressure, while once again making his stance clear.

Make your decision, Merem.

"Haa..." Facing the gaze of hundreds of Dead Apostles, Merem Solomon lowered his eyes and took a deep breath. He looked back at the eerie mask worn by Rimuru and said softly, "If I give you the scabbard, will you really let me leave?"

"Of course... Merem. Because I know you have need of me, you will inevitably come looking for me again—and I, for one, look forward to the day we cooperate."

"...What is it that you want from me?"

The corners of Rimuru's mouth beneath the mask curled up completely as he slowly tightened the net. "One day in the future, you might understand what I want. When that time comes, I hope you make a wise decision—"

"So, for now—" Rimuru reached out his hand and smiled, "Give me the scabbard, won't you?"

"..." Hearing this, Merem Solomon nodded slightly. A halo of light lifted the scabbard from his hand, and as it drifted slowly toward Rimuru, he stared intently into Rimuru's eyes, as if trying to imprint him into his memory forever, while he began to back away.

Watching the scabbard approach, Rimuru reached out and grasped it casually, as if he had no defenses, and took a brief glance at it.

"It is indeed Avalon."

The moment the Great Sage finished its rapid identification, Rimuru finally let his guard down completely. A look of satisfaction spread across his face, and his voice became noticeably more cheerful: "Aren't you going to see the guest out?"

Rimuru's words left Merem slightly stunned, but immediately after—the circle of Dead Apostles parted to both sides, clearing a path. Merem was taken aback; his mouth opened slightly, moving as if to speak, but in the end, he shot Rimuru a look of bitter resentment, turned around, and walked away, disappearing into the thick night.

It was only at the very end, seeing the clean and efficient way the other party's subordinates moved aside, that he suddenly realized a fact.

The fact that the other party... never intended to fight him from the very beginning!

That damn bastard!

Watching the back of Merem Solomon disappear completely, Rimuru was rubbing the scabbard when he turned his head and saw the delicate little face of the Princess of the Black suddenly pressed right up against his. She narrowed her blood-red eyes dangerously, her anger baring two small fangs, and she smiled sweetly: "My dear White Knight, now that the matter is settled, shouldn't you... give me an explanation regarding my dear sister?"

"Uh—" Hearing this, the smile on Rimuru's face froze instantly...

The White Knight Rimuru had obtained Avalon, which was excellent news for Rimuru the Magus. Although he was no longer in such a rush to leave Altrouge, Avalon was not only capable of healing curses but was also an incredibly powerful trump card for protection. Therefore—for Rimuru the Magus, aside from continuing to indulge in short-term profit-making, the task of how to activate Avalon—that is, using spirit-evocation to summon a Servant, Saber—had to be put on the agenda as soon as possible, or rather, listed as the top priority.

"So, Professor, the general education we receive is also useful, right?"

"Of course." In the classroom, Professor Rimuru nodded with a light smile, signaling for the student to sit down, and tapped the podium gently: "Although today's lecture is not a general introduction to basic magic concepts, I think it's quite good to review the fundamentals."

"As everyone knows, including some of you, many people are required to take courses in all basic disciplines as a core requirement, regardless of whether you specialize in water magic, or because of the specific nature of your magic, you specialize in spirit-evocation, alchemy, Witch-craft, or even Age of Gods magic."

"But as long as you have completed the core requirements for basic disciplines, you surely know how much astronomy, geography, physics, chemistry, and other subjects we once looked down upon are mixed in—subjects we were later forced to cite and incorporate into our basic curriculum."

"So-called magic refers to the use of mystery to accomplish things that human power can achieve in this era, but in a way that defies common sense. Therefore, although I am reluctant to admit it, the development and progress of civilization in the mundane world are indeed influencing the advancement of magic."

"For example." Rimuru casually summoned a Water Flower, causing the students to gasp and shrink back in fear, and then he smiled lightly: "It seems everyone recognizes this magic, so I don't need to explain too much of the theory..."

"Let's continue our review. Manipulating elements is something a magus must be able to do, but just like the history of human progress, being able to use tools is not enough; if you want to become stronger, you must learn to manufacture more tools—"

"Magi must also learn to use their own characteristics and attributes to continuously strengthen their control over elements. This is what you are sitting here to learn today. Thus, characteristics favorable to water can enhance the fluidity of water. Based on this, the initial magical theory that mana can increase the impact force of water was born."

"But nowadays, we can also call it by a more modern term... the enhancement of water pressure."

"Of course, if any student is interested in more content, you can look into some theories and knowledge regarding modern magic. Although that discipline currently has fewer than a hundred students, I have always been quite optimistic about it." Rimuru shrugged and smiled helplessly: "However, I must also remind everyone here."

"Most students learn magic at home and then study modern theoretical knowledge in ordinary schools. While I certainly affirm the usefulness of this part of science and theory to magic, I must also note... that secular theories can sometimes completely imprison your thinking."

"Magic does indeed share some common ground with these so-called sciences, but more often... it conflicts. Because the essence of magic is, after all, distortion. It is the use of methods that defy common sense to fundamentally distort the outcome. So, if you really study why things happen in magic, what the principles are, or what kind of chemical reactions occur..."

"Then I'm sorry..." Rimuru sighed and shook his head, causing the students below to chuckle knowingly.

"Now, next question."

Rimuru scanned the tiered lecture hall of over three hundred people. Among the dense forest of raised arms, Rimuru suddenly saw his little assistant, Christina—who almost never asked questions and always liked to run to his lounge to ask about this and that—rarely raising her hand. Her face seemed to be perpetually clouded, lacking much of her usual liveliness and spirit.

This left him slightly stunned, and he suddenly remembered that it had been a full week since this child had come to see him.

He paid quite a bit of attention to this child, not because she was some kind of genius, but because, besides being his little fan, the small group she belonged to was quite interesting—in a large classroom of over three hundred, even under a professor like Rimuru, who was gentle to commoner students and did not discriminate, and who held great prestige among the noble families, the circles of both sides were clearly demarcated. Precisely because students from both sides favored him, the numbers were evenly matched, creating a subtle standoff. This led to the two sides becoming left and right factions, with the middle row of seats left empty; students who arrived late would rather stand than sit with the "enemy."

Yet, Christina's small circle of friends was the only one that included geniuses from both noble families without being ostracized by either side, which undoubtedly deepened Rimuru's impression of them.

"Christina?" Rimuru hesitated for a moment before calling on her. Looking at her conflicted and complex expression, he said with his usual gentleness: "Do you have a question?"

"Professor..." Christina bit her lip in hesitation, turned her head to take a deep look at the gray-haired boy sitting in the other faction who was shaking his head at her. Rimuru also had an impression of that guy; he was a little genius from the Amosdon family in Germany, known by the title "The Eagle Destined to Soar the Skies."

But facing the boy's head-shake, Christina raised her eyebrows instead, pressed her lower lip, gathered her courage, and asked directly: "Professor, I want to ask... as a magus, is inheriting a Magic Crest really the only way out?"

"For us wild magi who come from commoner backgrounds, is it really..."

"Is there really no future for us?"

As her words fell, a flash of complexity crossed the cold face of Amosdon, and the entire lecture hall fell into a silent hush—

"Tsk..." Rimuru was also stunned for a long time. After a while, he chuckled, somewhat helplessly: "Your question... is really quite difficult, and quite... serious."

Chapter 046, Rimuru's Lecture Hall!

Rimuru did not answer the question immediately, but instead asked clearly why Christina had asked it in the first place.

It turned out that as a wild magus with unique talent, Christina possessed a Magic Crest left behind after her father's death. However, that Magic Crest only contained the half-baked, mediocre magic her father had practiced his whole life. In the eyes of Amosdon and her other good friend, a magus from a prestigious family, this was nothing more than a waste of Christina's talent as a magus.

Consequently, they had suggested that Christina accept aid from both their families to find a declining noble house in need of an heir, thereby obtaining a more powerful and promising Magic Crest. But because the Magic Crest was her father's legacy, Christina did not want to abandon it, so she refused them. However, Amosdon had suddenly informed her that in the two days she had been considering it, the two of them had already negotiated an inheritance for her—one had to understand that for magi, an excellent, inheritable Magic Crest was like placing the research results and wealth of several generations of a family on the table; the number of geniuses competing for it was simply countless.

Even if the magical family itself was on the verge of extinction, there would still be countless geniuses who considered themselves qualified flocking to it. One could imagine how much the two had sacrificed to secure this opportunity.

Just as Amosdon could not understand why Christina was unwilling to give up that trashy crest, Mona, Christina's best friend who was also a commoner in their small group, could not understand why Amosdon was so insistent on forcing Christina to inherit a family line she did not like.

An irreconcilable conflict erupted within the small group for the first time, and Christina found herself caught in an agonizing dilemma—at that moment, she suddenly thought of the professor she admired most.

Upon hearing the sequence of events, the classroom was instantly filled with countless gazes of jealousy, envy, and confusion, more than half of which came from the commoner faction, which Rimuru found somewhat amusing.

After all, even if they were clearly unwilling to communicate or interact with the so-called noble faction, they fundamentally revered the world of the other side, though... this could not be blamed on them. After the decline of mystery in the world, the Magic Crest, as a means of solidifying mystery, truly determined the floor and ceiling of a magus to a great extent.

"In other words, my answer will influence the decision you make, right?" Rimuru looked into her nervous eyes and chuckled, "That is truly a difficult problem, especially since, judging by the question you asked... you already have the answer."

"What you are struggling with is not whether to inherit the crest or not, but rather... a sense of resentment. The resentment that a Wild Magus is viewed as trash without inheriting a crest, and the inability to achieve success."

"However, since you asked, I will start by answering one point."

"Do Wild Magus really have no future? If I were to answer this question, I can only say... quite the opposite."

Rimuru gestured for Christina to sit down, walked back to the podium, sighed helplessly, and then smiled, "A long, long time ago, I seem to have heard a saying."

"Why should you expect to surpass in a single lifetime the wealth that others have accumulated over a dozen generations of effort?"

"Although it is just a joke, in the world of magecraft, this statement holds a lot of truth, because the mystery required for magecraft is fading—and only through generational accumulation can you continuously increase the extra mystery you possess, thereby surpassing most beings who have accumulated less than you."

"If magi without crests, or those with very few generations of crest inheritance, harbor delusions of rivaling families with several or even a dozen generations of heritage, then the only thing they can do is hope for the future."

"So, unfortunately, if we stand from the perspective of mystery and traditional magi, then the answer is affirmative."

"It is not that Wild Magus have no future, but rather... they only have the future."

Having said this, Rimuru paused, glanced at the desolation in the eyes of the commoner magi to the right, suddenly smiled, and raised his voice, "Alright, everything I just said was from the perspective of a magus, so now, I will share my own opinion."

"If I don't say it now, I suspect Miss Christina will be extremely disappointed in me and feel that I am dodging the question." Rimuru smiled gently, closed his textbook, stretched, and said, "Because the essence of this question is actually asking how a Wild Magus can have a future."

"Right?"

Upon hearing Rimuru's words, the commoner faction students who had already lowered their heads were all slightly stunned, and as they looked up in surprise, the students of the noble faction raised their eyebrows, listening with great interest.

Just when everyone thought this professor had glossed over the question, he personally highlighted the core of the issue, which clearly indicated that he might truly have his own thoughts or answers—but regardless of which it was, for this group of students, whether it turned out to be a valuable lesson or mere gossip, it was a rather interesting class.