Traveler Starting from Type-Moon, Demon Lord Rimuru! Chapter 49

"These thousands of clones are far more useful than those fifty or sixty thousand ghouls," Rimuru said bluntly. "My clones are exceptionally skilled at... fighting in the mist!"

"...Besides, you should know one of Brad's abilities, right?"

"Hmm... of course." Altrouge looked at the sea of blood surging forward, stunned for a moment before nodding in realization. "Those buried in Brad's sea of blood eventually assimilate into his ghosts to fight for him."

"You even inherited... this?"

"Though it might displease you, I must point out that it isn't inheritance," Rimuru reminded her. "It is plundering."

He did not deny it, which meant it was indeed the case.

That's right, whether they were injured or killed, their blood would be absorbed by this sea of blood, and the blood absorbed by the sea... would eventually transform into new clones, going on to kill their own... companions!

On the other side, a few kilometers from the main battlefield, the figure of Cath Palug moved like a silver bolt of lightning. As it sped through the forest, it didn't forget to grumble discontentedly about that damn bastard.

The peninsula was such a tiny place; although the city the mages had infiltrated wasn't far from the main battlefield, it was still over ten kilometers away. As a pet that usually had its master carry it around, it was expected to scramble on all fours for over ten kilometers?!

However, since Rimuru had deliberately used the excuse that the main battlefield needed it to urge it to head there, it meant that the inferior trash on the front lines were indeed unable to withstand a single blow, right?

Hmph, as expected, in the end, it still comes down to me, Cath, to...

Rumble!!!

Just as the white dog proudly raised its head, preparing to step out of the forest and scare off the enemy's tens of thousands of troops, it suddenly felt a tremor like the earth was shaking. Caught off guard, it slammed face-first into a tree trunk with a thud—

It hurts! It was that damn guy, actually launching a sneak attack...

Cath quickly shook its head, baring its teeth as it looked up to find the culprit. A massive shadow slowly coalesced in the air before it—a terrifying, monstrous beast the likes of which even the white dog had never seen!

It was a super-beast the size of a mountain!

Thick scales shimmered with countless sharp blades, and its massive claws, glinting with cold light, merely landing on the ground sent hundreds of soldiers flying with a boom. It opened its giant maw and let out a roar at the entire main force of The Church!

ROAR!!

At the same time, a massive magical cannon finished its incantation in the air. Barthomeloi, along with dozens of her family members, launched a counterattack in an instant. Strings of binding spells designed to target magical beasts lashed onto the monster, and the Church's targeted spells rained down as well! In just a single moment, the entire formation of the main army was torn apart.

This made Cath lift its two small paws and rub its eyes... No, where did that mountain-sized dog come from?!!!

And just as it hadn't figured out where this magical beast had popped out from, it saw on the other side a massive, blood-red wave—a sea of blood mixed with countless ghost-like blood elementals—instantly swallow a peripheral unit. After trading wounds to slaughter them, it rapidly absorbed the blood to continue gestating new avatars, swarming into the group of nuns like locusts!

For a time, through the gap torn open by the giant magical beast, a force of blood actually suppressed the rear with overwhelming force, forcing the Executors to shrink their lines and begin a brief retreat.

"????"

Cath blinked, feeling somewhat depressed: "You call this... the front line is in critical condition?!"

Chapter 067, Magical Marshal - Barthomeloi.

The sudden appearance of the giant magical beast honestly caught Rimuru off guard as well, but he quickly realized that this was the traitor from the Burial Agency, one of his allies... Merem Solomon had arrived.

He immersed his consciousness back into his magic perception and soon discovered a petite figure on a nearby cliff. The figure had lost both arms, and two empty sleeves fluttered within a pitch-black trench coat. He was no longer appearing in the guise of a priest, but had reverted to his cute, boyish face. He stood coldly on the cliff, his two arms transformed into the Rat King and the Demon Dog respectively, forcefully telling Rimuru that he had come to fulfill his original promise.

Oh my, oh my.

Rimuru reopened his eyes and looked at the Demon Dog, one of the Four Great Beasts, wreaking havoc on the main battlefield. He suddenly chuckled: "He really doesn't make a move until he's ready..."

This strike was truly as swift as thunder...

As a super-beast condensed from fantasy, the Demon Dog possessed not only extremely high mystery and magic resistance but also the characteristic of being fearless. Combined with the plague-like sea of blood clones Rimuru had spread—in just a moment, it had caused tragic casualties in one corner of the army. The Lord Barthomeloi probably hadn't expected this, right?

Rimuru shook his head with a smile. They had only just reached the outskirts, and they were already facing such a powerful attack...

However, she would likely react soon... Rimuru knew a thing or two about this Lord, a strong woman who had governed the Clock Tower for nearly a hundred years. The Barthomeloi family was extremely aggressive by nature, and their style—when faced with aggression, they would often respond with even more aggressive means, like a thunderous hurricane!

This was the pride belonging to the successive generations of the Barthomeloi family!

"Shall we go help him?" Rimuru tilted his head and looked at the young girl standing obediently beside him, whispering: "Your Highness, Merem is an indispensable weapon of war; he should not die on this land of Cornwall. If it comes to the worst and you need to unleash your power..."

"Please, by all means, release the power you loathe... I beg of you."

"Do you think he is in danger?" Altrouge was slightly stunned at these words, looking at Rimuru in astonishment, only to see his eyes filled with seriousness.

"Of course he is, Your Highness, because... he has been targeted by Barthomeloi."

As the panicked nuns began to retreat and the Executors stayed behind to cover them, Barthomeloi Lorelei suddenly opened her eyes and whipped her head toward the distant cliff. In an instant, she drew the noble scepter at her waist, which resembled a pointer, and held it up with solemn elegance, giving it a slight tap.

In an instant, fifty elite first-class mages behind her moved in unison. Endless elemental energy began to circulate, and the sound of the wind began to howl—a dozen of them took flight, turning into afterimages as they followed Barthomeloi toward Merem Solomon.

"Barthomeloi..." Altrouge carefully chewed on the name, and soon, she found its significance from her countless memories.

"The Magical Marshal who once shattered one of the White Winged Duke's plans... is it?"

"Ah, that is indeed one of the glorious achievements of our Lord," Rimuru raised his hand and tilted his head: "I quite understand the way Merem Solomon chose to show his loyalty to me, but I must admit, his method of attacking was a bit too rash."

One must know that even Rimuru, when facing the main force, dared not attack casually, and the biggest reason he felt safe withdrawing his clones from this direction was precisely because the main force was led by the Barthomeloi family—the Magical Marshal who had been famous for generations and commanded the Choir!

The so-called Choir was the strongest force in the magical world, composed of the fifty most elite first-class mages selected by the Mage's Association every year from countless elites, capable of annihilating any threat. Not to mention that their leader was a Lord who stood at the pinnacle of the magical world herself, Lorelei.

"Does that mean you can't make a move?" Altrouge was somewhat disappointed. For some reason, she really hoped that the first time she unleashed her power in this campaign, it would be fighting alongside Rimuru.

The successive heads of the Barthomeloi family were extremely hostile toward vampires. Or rather, it wasn't just the heads; anyone born into the Barthomeloi family seemed to be tirelessly dedicated to hunting vampires for unknown reasons. Legend had it that Lorelei, who always valued rules, once gave up participating in the Lord's Conference just to hunt a vampire—

This inexplicable hostility was also the reason Rimuru knew he could never expose his identity.

Perhaps all the other Lords didn't care whether he held a seat among the Dead Apostles, but the Barthomeloi family was different. They would certainly care, and once they found out, they would change their stance without hesitation, driving him out or even... annihilating him!

Therefore, Rimuru could not make a move against the Barthomeloi Choir; he could not risk even the slightest chance of being discovered.

"I wouldn't say I can't make a move." Rimuru looked at the disappointment in Altrouge's eyes and said with a wry smile, "Since Barthomeloi has been lured away... doesn't that mean I can go deal with the main force?"

Aside from Barthomeloi, the frontline forces also included the Lords and magi from the El-Melloi and Achelotte factions.

"Well, suit yourself." Altrouge wrinkled her nose in dissatisfaction, then turned away, concealing her presence as she flew toward the direction of Merem Solomon.

"Be careful." Rimuru suddenly leaned in, grabbed her, and whispered earnestly, "Barthomeloi's attribute is wind. Her vacuum magecraft is silent and terrifyingly lethal. You must be careful."

"...Yeah." Altrouge was slightly stunned, then turned her head away awkwardly...

"You too..."

Watching Altrouge fly off, Rimuru sighed softly. In truth, his original plan had been to have the Black Winged Duke pin down Barthomeloi, but... he looked toward the distant Celtic Sea. There, in the aerial domain, endless chimeras and magi skilled in shapeshifting were sweeping in under the lead of the Department of Zoology's chimeras. As the only king of the aerial domain, the Black Winged Duke had no choice but to head there to organize and stall them.

Even though he had made full preparations, once the enemy's flood-like offensive began, Rimuru truly felt the pressure. No matter how much they, as high-end combatants, looked down on basic low-tier troops, the sheer pressure they presented made him realize what it meant to be stretched too thin.

When it came down to it, the mid-tier forces Rimuru could field were ultimately just the few thousand Dead Apostles under Altrouge.

Even the Black Knight Sturt was currently in Austria, acting as Altrouge's executor to lead her subjects in battle.

Thinking of this, Rimuru shook his head and stopped dwelling on it. He glanced at the Demon Dog, which was being slowly suppressed by binding chains, and vanished from his spot without a moment's hesitation—

Beams of light-flashing slashes suddenly appeared from all directions out of thin air, slamming into the Demon Dog's scale-covered beastly form with a boom. Without causing a single scratch but shattering all the binding magecraft on its body, Rimuru suddenly stood atop its head. At the same time, the Demon Dog tilted its head and let out a massive roar.

Boom! A ripple-like gale scattered outward, instantly flipping over dozens of caught-off-guard magi, not to mention swatting several nuns into a pulp with a single claw.

However, this also caused Rimuru, who was on its head, to lose his balance for a moment. Because of this...

"Don't move around, little cutie." He stomped his foot in dissatisfaction, released a vast aura of a True Ancestor, and whispered, "Don't you remember me?"

"You..." A violent yet thunderous voice echoed in Rimuru's mind: "I will never forget that annoying voice of yours."

"That's good." Hearing this, Rimuru looked up nonchalantly and chuckled, "But clearly, we have to fight together now."

"Let's go! Gorath!!"

"Gorath?"

"The new name I gave you. Do you like it?"

"..." He didn't like it at all. What kind of garbage name was that?

At this moment, Rimuru suddenly sensed something and looked toward a direction on the ground. He saw a monstrous shadow instantly knock down dozens of executors, followed by a stupid white dog darting left and right through the crowd, running frantically toward him.

Yo, did Fou sense the threat of losing favor? He was in such a hurry.

Watching Fou take a high, flying leap, quickly bouncing onto the Demon Dog's massive back and running toward him, Rimuru couldn't help but laugh as he raised his hand to catch it. Just then, he saw Fou's eyes narrow, a sharp aura surged, and it launched a flying kick!

This move—not good!

Before Rimuru could react, he felt his cheek get kicked by a soft paw, the massive impact hitting him head-on: "Fou... Fou-flying kick?"

Bang!

Rimuru's cheek turned into a spray of blood once again, while Fou landed contentedly in the arms of Rimuru's headless corpse, acting haughty: "Hmph! Damn bastard."

"Can you two be serious during wartime?" Sharp attacks struck the Demon Dog's massive body one after another. The Demon Dog, being stepped on by the human and the beast, voiced its dissatisfaction in their minds: "Don't think that just because you two are Ancestors like Merem, you can step on my head as you please."

Boom! A magic blast landed in the distant crowd, and endless blood-red flowers bloomed. Amidst the slaughter, one blood-red avatar after another slowly coalesced, interrupting the Demon Dog. Rimuru slowly reformed his head and chuckled, "What did you say?"

As the thick fog spread, the avatars of the sea of blood slowly merged, forming a square formation of nearly ten thousand around the Demon Dog. Seeing this, the magi tacitly retreated in unison, stopping their attacks and shifting into a defensive posture.

"A massive deterrent." Rimuru lowered his eyes, watching the troops forced into retreat. He set the white beast down from his arms and whispered, "That is the proof of our qualifications."

"..."

The Demon Dog fell silent, while the rear command of the magi and the Pope fell into sudden chaos.

"Damn it..." Beneath the massive shadow, the pupils of the surrounding magi constricted, and their brows furrowed tightly: "It's the White Knight and the Primate Murder... Everyone retreat, defensive tactics! Damn it, of all times..."

When faced with a massive threat, the magi's habitual self-preservation and independence surfaced. They scattered instantly, releasing various defensive measures to protect themselves. Meanwhile, the executors in the front and the exposed nuns suffered—without the suppression and protection of the magi, the casualties became almost instantly one-sided.

Seeing the chaos in the front due to a lack of leadership, the Popes in the rear felt a sense of distress. By now, they had realized that the enemy might have deliberately used the tactic of luring the tiger away from the mountain, exploiting Barthomeloi's personality of being unable to resist a provocation. But the problem was...

"Lord El-Melloi needs to escort Professor Tempest back to the Clock Tower, but what about Lord Achelotte?!"

"Uh... Liddell should have gone back with them, right?" Tes scratched his head, looking somewhat helpless.

"???"

"Absurd!!"

"?" Hearing this, Tes frowned, his tone displeased: "Watch your tone, Pope Smith. Our Mage's Association only has a cooperative relationship with you; we are not subordinates. To be precise, we have the right to decide how our personnel attack and retreat."

"You..."

"Alright, that's enough out of you." A white-haired old woman suddenly spoke, stopping the other Pope from continuing. Looking at the rampaging magical beast in front, she turned her head and said, "Lord Tes, surely you know that the team serving as the frontline offensive is composed of first-class magi and executors. Therefore, in terms of overall strength, what we fear is not just a White Knight and a Primate Murder."

"It is the coordination between the two."

"Although the joint combat capability of magi is powerful, there must be a presence capable of commanding respect. This is the reason why you hold the title of Magical Marshal."

The existence of the Magical Legion had always been the greatest threat the magi posed to the Church. A joint combat legion of magi rarely exceeded a hundred people, but even a hundred—or even the fifty-man Choir—could launch terrifying strikes against the Church's tens of thousands of troops. The branch-family rule of the Twelve Lords, where a head of house leads a dozen first-class magi from branch families, was itself a weakened version of a Magical Legion.

"And now, I think, in the vast organization of the Mage's Association and its entire magical command system, surely you wouldn't let Lord Barthomeloi carry the burden alone, would you?"

"Tsk." Hearing this, Tes Gaiusling narrowed his eyes slightly and chuckled softly, "I understand what you mean, but unfortunately, I cannot shoulder that responsibility."

"Because a Magical Marshal not only requires powerful command capabilities, but their own strength must also be sufficient to rival a Lord. Otherwise, decapitation tactics will become the most lethal factor in destroying a magical unit, even for a temporary force like this..."

"I have no desire to be targeted by the White Knight."

"Then does Lord Gaiusling have any better ideas?" Hearing this, the old woman pressed on step by step, "It was agreed from the start that your three families would bear the main pressure of the frontal assault, while we would be responsible for providing maximum auxiliary support. But now, are you going to watch idly as the enemy runs rampant among our poor believers, while your mages only care about praying that they aren't the ones to die next?"

"Is such a powerful coalition force really going to collapse under the deterrence of two Ancestors? Heh, if word of this gets out, the prestige of the Mage's Association will likely suffer a devastating blow, won't it?"

Chapter 068, Liddell wants to sneak a bite?

"But the problem is, even if I were to step up and take responsibility for command, it wouldn't change the current situation." Tes narrowed his eyes and pointed to the massive shadow ahead—the Demon Dog was indeed intimidating, but it had actually claimed the fewest lives.

What truly forced the Executors and mages to retreat in the face of an unstoppable foe was the Ancestor "Primate Murder," which, with every roar it unleashed after manifesting its demonic shadow, sent out ripples that erased all human life.

"You must understand, even Barthomeloi cannot order a group of mages to go to their deaths when they know it is certain, let alone me."

"Even Rimuru Tempest, the super-first-class mage closest to a Lord and currently the most renowned, couldn't withstand a single blow and has already been emergency-evacuated back to the London Tower. In such a situation, how many people do you think are willing to step up?"

"Primate Murder is not impossible to counter..." Tes said helplessly, "According to the original plan, the one responsible for countering Primate Murder should have been our Department of Spiritual Evocation's Undead Lord, Lord Yuri Phis."

Just as the plan Rimuru had envisioned—having the Black Winged Duke counter Barthomeloi—was ruthlessly shattered, the enemy rarely lets you have your way. Yuri Phis, the faction best at necromantic summoning and self-preservation, who was supposed to have infiltrated the heart of the enemy territory to stall Primate Murder, had for some unknown reason sent no word to this day.

"If that is the case... does your side have no other preparations?" Hearing this, the old woman was clearly dissatisfied. She continued, "Before that so-called super-first-class mage fell, did he not offer any useful suggestions?"

"Suggestions? Ah, yes, he did." Tes looked up indifferently at the Demon Dog and the white beast rampaging ahead, as well as the White Knight standing atop the Demon Dog, letting his magic spill forth as he allowed the army of blood to harvest lives. He suddenly chuckled, "We have an absolute advantage in numbers, so..."

"Use people to hold the line, pile up lives, and exhaust its stamina. But as elite mages, we are obviously not going to do such a thing."

He turned his head, looking at the old woman's suddenly darkened face, and said, "As the first vanguard unit to reach the battlefield, Pope, you surely have a clear understanding of your own position, don't you? Or rather, you surely have a clear understanding of the position of those under your command?"

"The so-called believers, aren't they exactly what your Church..."

"The most qualified cannon fodder?"