Traveler from Type-Moon, Demon Lord Rimuru!

Barthomeloi frowned as she glanced around; no one from the Wandering Sea had arrived, but several renowned alchemists from the Atlas Academy in Egypt had made an appearance.

Just then, the great doors opened once more. Liddell Achelotte, a Lord, followed quietly behind an elderly woman with a weathered face. As she stepped inside, everyone's gaze tightened instinctively. Kayneth raised an eyebrow, while Yuri Phis's expression grew even gloomier.

Inorai looked at the hunched old woman and offered a familiar greeting: "Long time no see, Lord Achelotte."

"Inorai. Ha, you're still as spirited as ever." The old woman, addressed as Lord Achelotte, smiled back at the old lady. Her gaze swept across the room, instantly exerting a subtle, pervasive pressure upon the countless people present.

Young magi lowered their heads one after another, and even Aozaki Touko couldn't help but twitch her lips... Tsk, what a fossil of a monster to have crawled out.

Liddell's teacher, the first head of the family, the first Lord of the Department of Plantology who only abdicated after serving for over four hundred years, the terrifying female devil of the Industrial Age known as... the Witch of Coal, Achelotte.

Since you've already retired, just stay home and wait to die, you old hag!

Just as most of the magi were thinking this, several Executors standing beside a few bishops near Aozaki Touko began whispering to one another. Suddenly, she heard one of the bishops stand up with a loud bang, exclaiming in disbelief: "What!? A Grand Resolution among the Dead Apostles!?"

In an instant, the great figures who had been greeting each other and networking fell silent. As they all turned their gazes toward that bishop, he sat back down dejectedly and stammered:

"L-ladies and gentlemen... I have just received news..."

"The White Winged Duke and the White Knight Leviathan... are about to hold negotiations regarding the matters of Austria and Cornwall, and they... they..."

"In the name of the Princess of the Black, Altrouge, they have issued invitations to most of the surviving Dead Apostle Ancestors, inviting them to serve as witnesses and... participants in these negotiations."

"..." For a moment, everyone fell into a heavy silence. The bishop took a deep breath and continued: "This... time, this stage... it is clearly..."

"A Grand Resolution held by the Dead Apostles!!"

The timing of the suddenly announced negotiations, aside from the location, matched the method and timing of a Grand Resolution exactly. Moreover, to announce it so high-profilely right as the Grand Resolution was set to begin—the intent was as obvious as a man walking down the street.

When the two pieces of news collided, every magus couldn't help but look up at the unpredictable winds and clouds gathering in the sky.

"Europe... is about to change."

In the distant Far East, a gentleman in a red suit set down his teacup. Looking at the declaration printed on a flyer-like newspaper bearing the mark of the Dead Apostles, he suddenly realized just how terrifying the Mage Association's current enemy was.

They hadn't even left out the Dead Apostles of the Far East; since when did Dead Apostles care about propaganda campaigns?

He fell into deep thought, considering whether to report this matter—which was neither small nor insignificant—to the Mage Association, when his wife walked down from upstairs. In her arms, an infant of about eight or nine months old struggled to reach out with both hands and laughed happily.

"Da... Da!"

On the other side, Rimuru also stepped onto German soil. In this land already filled with solemn silence, black high-collared trench coats seemed to be the local fashion, but it was obvious that when mystery could perceive mystery, Rimuru easily detected the gazes and salutes hidden among the crowd, mixed with either reverence or hostility.

As countless Dead Apostles took to the streets and black clouds drifted across the sky, shadows would completely swallow this land; even the light would shy away.

Berlin, the capital of Germany.

Just as in London during the Grand Resolution, where all Dead Apostles and fallen magi would scatter and vanish without a trace, the opposite was happening in Berlin. As a massive influx of Dead Apostles swarmed in, the last shred of "justice" could no longer withstand the pressure. Under the watchful eyes of the endless Dead Apostles, the bishops chose to withdraw and sealed the doors of the Church.

The Mage Association began to close its doors, and the magus families turned a blind eye to the changes across Germany—it was only for a few days, after all; once a few days passed, the Dead Apostles would eventually disperse.

No one believed that the Dead Apostles could truly reach a consensus, because Dead Apostles expanded in a barbaric fashion. Like Zelretch, even if they were all Dead Apostles, their goals, interests, and stances...

Were never aligned.

Never.

At the same time, Rimuru knew that even though Berlin had become a city teeming with Dead Apostles, countless Executors and magi had quietly flooded into the entire country and the areas surrounding Berlin—

Just like in Cornwall, England.

As soon as the Grand Resolution ended and the Mage Association and the Church reached an agreement, with a single command, the surrounding cities would surround and submerge the area like a flood—even if the Dead Apostles truly wanted to establish their own territory, it could not be Germany.

Because even if Germany was the territory of the White Winged Duke, it was a territory that existed underground; on the surface, the influence of the Church and the Mage Association remained deeply rooted... and the other side would never truly allow the Dead Apostles to control the capital of such a major power and leave it unchecked.

Germany, England, and France were, after all, the face of Europe.

Oh, perhaps one more should be added... Italy?

However, this didn't seem to have anything to do with Rimuru; it wasn't his territory, anyway.

Thinking of this, Rimuru stopped pondering and turned to look at the sullen Altrouge, saying with a laugh: "Don't keep such a miserable face on. Don't you feel a sense of pride walking in a city like this?"

"When you walk down the street, the entire city will fly black flags."

"This city will be dyed black because of you, Your Highness."

"But that is only temporary," Altrouge replied, completely unmoved. "It is nothing but Kyōka Suigetsu."

"Tsk."

The palace, or rather the ancient castle, of the White Winged Duke appeared quite magnificent, but unfortunately, like the Einzbern estate, it could only be admired in solitude, hidden within a barrier—

Whether it was out of the limited respect he held for Altrouge, his regard for Rimuru, or perhaps the importance he placed on this meeting, the White Winged Duke uncharacteristically descended from his throne, exited the ancient castle, and led his retinue to personally welcome Rimuru and his party.

Compared to the imposing procession of the White Winged Duke, who was followed by dozens of administrators, the entourage of Altrouge—consisting of her Black and White Knights and a single dog—seemed somewhat modest.

With long, slightly wavy white hair framing a resolute and weathered face, and beneath blood-red eyes brimming with majesty, he carried a gleaming silver greatsword as tall as Rimuru. It was a weapon as magnificent as it was symbolic of royal authority. This was the White Winged Duke.

The White Winged Duke was regarded by over seventy percent of the Dead Apostles as their ideal king. He had managed to shroud the rigid, hierarchical nature of the Dead Apostles, leading them in their betrayal of the True Ancestors, and in doing so, had earned a reputation that stood on equal footing with Altrouge.

Both his title as King of the Dead Apostles and his moniker as the White Winged Duke served to highlight his strength and the authority and dominance that compelled his subordinates to submit willingly. Unlike the other Dead Apostle Ancestors, who had become ascetic and indifferent to all but themselves due to their immortality, the White Winged Duke was the only one who acknowledged that Dead Apostles possessed their own intrinsic value. Viewing them as superior beings by nature, he made their protection and expansion his life's ambition.

Watching the man approach with such majestic strides, Rimuru frowned slightly. While the personal welcome showed sufficient respect, the man's posture clearly asserted his dominance as the master of the house.

"With such a grand procession, anyone who didn't know better might think the Crimson Moon had been reborn."

Rimuru tilted his head, and under the pressure of the man's aura, he adjusted the mask on his face. Accompanying the Duke were not only the dozen or so administrators who looked like subordinates, but also several figures Rimuru did not recognize. Their auras were no weaker than his own, and they leaned against various parts of the palace entrance, watching the group with expressions ranging from schadenfreude to cold indifference.

Faced with Rimuru's sarcasm, the White Winged Duke merely lowered his gaze slightly and replied in a deep, forceful voice, "If it were Brunestud, she would likely be like the Princess—preferring to walk alone."

"Is that so? In that case, it seems my Princess's personality is quite consistent with her surname."

"...The Princess of the Black did indeed inherit the Brunestud name, and I have never denied her title as the King of the Dead Apostles." Hearing this, the White Winged Duke understood the implication behind Rimuru's words. After a moment of contemplation, he said in a low voice, "But ultimately, the power of the Crimson Moon belongs to Arcueid Brunestud, not Altrouge."

"But Arcueid is not a Dead Apostle; she is a complete True Ancestor. Hasn't hunting the True Ancestors been the White Winged Duke's proposal all along?"

"That is precisely why I support no one. Furthermore, my disagreement with the Princess of the Black stems primarily from a difference in philosophy." The White Winged Duke interrupted. "It is not appropriate to discuss these matters out here. Let us save these words for inside."

Having said this, the White Winged Duke's eyes, glowing with a red luster, stared deeply into Rimuru's exposed golden eyes for a moment before he suddenly added, "As the latest Dead Apostle to inherit the title of 'Ancestor,' I do not know how much we truly understand of one another. However, as the initiator of this meeting, it is necessary to acknowledge the existence you have invited—"

With that, he shifted his gaze toward the person beside Rimuru—the annoyed little princess who was currently grinding her teeth at him. "Princess of the Black, I am very gratified. After several hundred years, your influence has finally grown by a visible margin..."

"At least you finally know what kind of person is worth choosing."

With his routine mockery of the Princess of the Black complete, the White Winged Duke turned around, satisfied. "Let's go. I will take you inside. Most of the others already know the way—"

"..." The mocked Altrouge froze for a moment. A dark cloud instantly gathered over her already irritated face, and as a black aura began to emanate from her, she bared her fangs, ready to lunge at the White Winged Duke's back—

Rimuru and the Black Knight exchanged a helpless look and hurriedly held her back.

Just then, the sky suddenly darkened. As the shadow blotting out the sun caused the White Winged Duke to frown and look upward, Altrouge's anger was instantly diverted. Sensing the air fill with the scent of the dead, every Dead Apostle present knew exactly who had arrived in that very instant.

Wherever the Bird of Death goes, elegant death follows in its wake.

"Damn it, I did not invite that fellow—" For the first time, the White Winged Duke's calm face furrowed slightly. After whispering this, he looked up and roared, "Do not let your damned feathers soil my castle! Blackmore!!"

Rimuru looked up. It was a massive black bird, or rather... a crow, spanning dozens of kilometers.

It blotted out the sky like a giant roc, shrouding all of Berlin. As it flew toward the White Winged Duke's castle, it slowly shrank, rapidly transforming into an otherworldly monster with a human body and a bird's head—

This was the Black Winged Duke, Gransurg Blackmore, a being whose strength rivaled the White Winged Duke's, but whose social standing was the exact opposite, earning him a mocking title from everyone.

If the White Winged Duke was a figure recognized by seventy percent of Dead Apostles and followed by over forty percent, then the Black Winged Duke was someone who, aside from the monsters he personally transformed, was followed by almost no one.

Even though the other Dead Apostle Ancestors acknowledged him as one of the "Twenty-Seven," almost no one liked interacting with him. Yet, despite his terrible social reputation, the Black Winged Duke was unexpectedly fond of socializing; he was always keen on large gatherings and would often show up uninvited.

Because he had almost no followers, the Black Winged Duke was one of the Ancestors who had created the most kin. However, the kin he drained became monsters with human bodies and bird heads, known as Chimeras. His near-obsessive love for birds and his unique taste were likely reasons many vampires could not understand him.

Hmm... at least, if the guy were willing to retract that hideous bird head, Rimuru would likely be happy to make friends with him and try to win him over. But for now...

Rimuru glanced at the look of disgust on Altrouge's face and decisively abandoned the idea of taking the Princess to curry favor with him... Indeed, that bird-headed human aesthetic was truly a bit too unique.

Seeming to read Rimuru's thoughts, Altrouge suddenly spoke softly, explaining, "Actually, what most Dead Apostles loathe is not his appearance, but the fact that in the minds of most, the Black Winged Duke has always been nothing more than a familiar of the Crimson Moon."

"A familiar who abandoned his human magus form, willing to fall into the state of a Chimera."

Hearing this, Rimuru raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Just as the Princess had assessed, this was the general consensus among Dead Apostles regarding the Black Winged Duke—even after the Crimson Moon died and the Black Winged Duke gained his freedom, his existence as a Chimera prevented him from changing the perception of most Dead Apostles, including the Twenty-Seven Ancestors, even though his power was now on par with the White Winged Duke.

Never Again, a Reality Marble comparable to the domain of the Grim Reaper, was something that even tempted Rimuru. But considering that such marginalized figures were often the best targets for exploitation, and that a bizarre Reality Marble could cause even him to stumble, Rimuru suppressed his greed. Prioritizing the plan, he intended to find an opportunity to win the man over—

However, the slowly descending Black Winged Duke ignored the disgusted gazes of those around him, laughing heartily. "How could such a grand ball be missing the bird that dances in the sky?"

"Hmm... three sentences and he's already talking about birds. That is also why I hate him."

Altrouge did not shy away from her words. She turned her head to look at the thoughtful Rimuru and said, "If you want to win him over, it's actually quite simple: just offer a few more compliments about birds, and he will surely treat you like a bosom friend."

"But... almost no Dead Apostle Ancestor would lower themselves to do such a thing."

"My knight, I know you are willing to do anything for my rise to power, but I do not wish for you to cast aside your honor for my sake—"

Altrouge's voice was not loud, but since she did not use any specific magic to conceal it, even her quiet whisper was no secret to those present. Consequently, the other Dead Apostle Ancestors shifted their gaze from the Black Winged Duke back to one of the protagonists and the initiator of the meeting, the White Knight, Leviathan.

A complex emotion flickered in the White Winged Duke's eyes. In his view, Altrouge's growth was evident; she had finally learned that beyond her own willfulness, she could consider the feelings of her subordinates and adjust her words accordingly. At the same time, while reminding her subordinate, she had inadvertently provided him with a justification—this way, even if the White Knight truly lowered himself for her support, the reason would be framed as the honor of being willing to sacrifice for his Princess.

Although in the eyes of the Dead Apostles who betrayed the True Ancestors, this loyalty was not something worth boasting about—and was even a target for ridicule—it did not prevent him from proving his contribution to the rise of the Dead Apostles.

At least in the eyes of the White Winged Duke, it was a bargaining chip worth presenting.

As for the Black Winged Duke, upon hearing Altrouge's words, his scarlet bird eyes fixed on Rimuru. He fell silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed. "My philosophy has never required the flattery of those who act with ulterior motives."

"But since the Princess of the one I serve has spoken thus, I am willing to reveal my heart once more."

"If you are truly as the Princess says, willing to willingly abandon your honor for the one you serve, I am willing to regard you as one of my own kind."

"But I give you only this one chance. Either abandon your honor in public, or let me continue to keep to myself—make your choice, magus who has inherited the name of the White Knight. I see the shadow of my former self in you."

Suddenly, an unknown Ancestor who had been watching the show from the doorway raised an eyebrow, revealing an amused smile, and turned to say something to the empty air.

A ripple in the air slowly spread, and a blonde girl stepped out from it, holding a cup of viscous blood, watching the scene with great interest—

And by the window on the second floor of the castle, a slightly plump, kind-looking count also froze for a moment, then chuckled and lowered his gaze.

"Things... are getting more and more interesting."

The reason the Dead Apostle Ancestors are never of one mind is that, throughout their immortal lives, they have all become increasingly ascetic and... developed increasingly bizarre fetishes and hobbies. With a thousand strange and varied ideologies crammed together, it is simply impossible for them to share the same stance.

Therefore... if someone wants to gather this power, then... they must position themselves as the sole hub and core, uniting the others.

Can you do it? White Knight Leviathan.

Or should I say...

Rimuru Tempest.

Chapter 049: I prefer the choice Crimson Moon once made—challenge you and beat you into submission!

Make your choice, White Knight. Will you lower your head and accept my help amidst the scorn of the crowd, or will you maintain your pride and haughtily reject me, basking in the approval of the masses?

The words of Black Winged Duke caused the atmosphere in the air to turn scorching, as if the resolution that had yet to begin was already surging with undercurrents.

Rimuru looked at that hideous bird head, his brows furrowing slightly.

Clearly, the other party was not giving Altrouge any face. Altrouge's wanton commentary in public had instantly invited a counterattack from Black Winged Duke that seemed like a fit of pique, but was in reality an act of arrogance.

If this could not be resolved properly, neither accepting nor rejecting the other party would be a good outcome for Rimuru. As a being who values interests, if they were speaking in private, Rimuru might not hesitate to discard a shred of his integrity to ensure he gained the other's support. But clearly, in a public setting, if he were to actually do so, it would become several times more difficult to gain the support of the other Dead Apostle Ancestors later on.

Seeing her subordinate suddenly fall into a dilemma, Altrouge instantly radiated an infinite killing intent directed at Black Winged Duke, forcing the Dead Apostles nearby and those behind White Winged Duke to involuntarily take a few steps back.

Yet, in the face of this killing intent, Black Winged Duke displayed a calm that was tit-for-tat.

"What a headache of a problem..." After a long while, Rimuru suddenly scratched his head. Looking somewhat helpless, he stepped forward, blocking Altrouge's gaze filled with killing intent, and suddenly asked, "Dead Apostles seem to love simplifying problems into two options."

"I will only give you these two paths, White Knight."

"However, I don't want to choose either, Blackmore." Rimuru calmly reached out his hand, his golden eyes radiating a crimson glow. A trace of the True Ancestor aura belonging to Altrouge erupted outward, and beneath the high-hanging blood moon, even the air turned a deep, eerie red.

"I have heard of your deeds. It is rumored that you once treated everyone who looked down on birds with the same arrogance, giving them two paths to choose from... either you die, or I die."