"These few thousand clones are far more useful than those fifty or sixty thousand ghouls." Rimuru said without mincing words. "My clones are exceptionally good at... fighting in the fog!"
"...Besides, you should know one of Brad's abilities, right?"
"Mm... of course." Altrouge watched the blood sea surge forward, paused in surprise, then nodded as understanding dawned. "Those buried in Brad's sea of blood eventually become his ghosts and fight for him."
"You inherited even... that?"
"Though it might make you unhappy, I still have to remind you: it wasn't inheritance." Rimuru corrected her. "It was plunder."
He hadn't denied it, which meant it was true.
That was right. Whether they were injured or killed, their blood would be absorbed by the sea of blood. And the blood it absorbed... would eventually become new clones, who would then kill their... comrades!
Several kilometers from the main battlefield, Fou's figure flashed through the forest like a streak of silver lightning. As he raced along, he didn't forget to grumble resentfully about that damned bastard.
The peninsula was tiny, but even though the city the magi had infiltrated wasn't far from the main battlefield, it was still more than ten kilometers away! He was just a pet with four legs to run on, and his master usually carried him around. How could he bear to make him cross over ten kilometers?!
But since Rimuru had deliberately reminded him to head for the main battlefield, using the excuse that the front line needed him, didn't that mean the group of worthless trash on the front line had finally proved too weak to hold out?
Hmph. In the end, they still had to rely on me, Cath...
Rumble!!!
Just as the white dog proudly raised his head, ready to step out of the forest and scare off the enemy's tens of thousands of troops, he suddenly felt the earth shake beneath him. Caught off guard, he slammed face-first into a tree with a smack—
Ouch! That damned guy was sneaking up on him...
Fou hurriedly shook his head, then raised it with a furious snarl to find the culprit. A massive shadow slowly took shape in midair right in front of him. It was an unbelievably terrifying, monstrous beast, unlike anything the white dog had ever seen!
It was a super-monster as large as a mountain!
Its thick scales gleamed with countless sharp blades. The enormous claws, glinting coldly, had barely touched the ground before sending hundreds of soldiers flying with a deafening boom. It opened its jaws and roared at the Church's entire army!
Roar!!
At the same time, a gigantic magic cannon finished forming in the sky. Barthomeloi and dozens of families immediately launched a counterattack. One binding spell after another, designed to restrain monsters, took the shape of ropes and lashed around the beast in an instant, while the Church's own spells came crashing down as well! In a single moment, the entire army's ranks were struck by a devastating assault.
Fou couldn't help raising his little paws to rub his eyes... Wait, where had that enormous dog, big as a mountain, come from?!
Before he could figure out where the monster had come from, he saw a crimson wave, like a sea of blood, sweep in from the other side, carrying countless ghostlike blood-element clones. It swallowed a unit on the flank in an instant. They traded wounds as they fought, slaughtering the entire unit before swiftly absorbing its blood and giving birth to new clones. Like a swarm of locusts, they took advantage of the chaos to attack the nuns!
For a time, through the breach torn open by the giant monster, a blood-red force overwhelmed the troops in the rear and temporarily forced them back. The Executors had no choice but to pull in their battle line and begin a brief retreat.
"????"
Fou blinked, looking a little annoyed. "You call this... the front line being in danger?!"
Chapter 67: Magical Marshal—Barthomeloi
The sudden appearance of the giant monster had honestly taken Rimuru by surprise, but he quickly realized that it was the traitor from the Burial Agency, one of his allies... Merem Solomon.
He immersed his mind in his magical perception again, and soon spotted a petite figure on a distant cliff. He had no arms, and his two empty sleeves swayed beneath his black trench coat. For once, he hadn't appeared in the guise of a priest. Instead, he had reverted to his cute, childlike appearance and stood on the cliff with a cold expression. His arms had each transformed into one of his familiars, the Rat King and the Demon Dog. It was his way of telling Rimuru that he'd come to fulfill the promise he'd made.
Well, well.
Rimuru opened his eyes again and looked toward the Demon Dog, one of the Four Great Beasts, rampaging across the front line. He gave a soft laugh. "It's true what they say about still waters running deep..."
When he finally struck, it was a thunderous blow...
As a super-monster formed from fantasy, the Demon Dog possessed not only immense mystery and Magic Resistance, but also an inability to fear death. Combined with Rimuru's blood-sea clones, which spread like a plague, it had inflicted terrible casualties on one corner of the army in moments. The Assistant Lord Barthomeloi probably hadn't expected that, either.
Rimuru smiled and shook his head. They'd only just reached the outer edge of the battlefield, and they were already facing an attack this powerful...
Still, she would probably react soon. Rimuru knew a little about the Assistant Lord, the formidable woman who had governed the Clock Tower for nearly a century. The powerful Barthomeloi family had a forceful style: when faced with a powerful opponent, they tended to answer with an even more powerful counterattack, a thunderous whirlwind of retribution!
That was the pride of generations of the Barthomeloi family!
"Should we go help him?" Rimuru tilted his head toward the girl standing obediently beside him and spoke softly. "Your Highness, Merem is an indispensable weapon of war. He shouldn't die on this land of Cornwall. If it comes to it, and you have to release it..."
"Please, don't hesitate to unleash the power you despise... I'm counting on you."
"You think he'll be in danger?" Altrouge paused in surprise at his words and looked at Rimuru in astonishment, only to see the seriousness in his eyes.
"Of course he will, Your Highness, because... Barthomeloi has set her sights on him."
As the panicked nuns began to retreat and the Executors stayed behind to cover them, Barthomeloi Lorelei suddenly opened her eyes and turned to look toward the distant cliff. In an instant, she drew the noble's scepter at her waist, shaped like a riding crop, held it upright with solemn elegance, and gave a slight tap.
In an instant, fifty elite first-rate magi behind her sprang into action. The endless flow of elemental energy began to surge, and the wind started to howl. More than a dozen figures rose into the air, turning into blurs as they flew after Barthomeloi toward Merem Solomon.
"Barthomeloi..." Altrouge silently savored the name, and soon found its significance amid her countless memories.
"Isn't she the Magical Marshal who once thwarted one of the White Winged Duke's plans?"
"Ah, that was indeed one of our Assistant Lord's proudest achievements." Rimuru raised a hand and tilted his head. "I understand why Merem Solomon chose to act as a way of showing his loyalty to me, but I have to admit that his attack was a little too rash."
Even Rimuru wouldn't casually attack the front-line army, and he'd made sure to pull his clones back from this direction for one main reason: the army was led by the Barthomeloi family, a renowned clan that had led the Choir for generations, and whose head was the Magical Marshal!
The Choir was the strongest force in the world of magecraft, made up of the fifty most elite first-rate magi selected each year from countless talented practitioners by the Magic Association. They were powerful enough to annihilate any threat—and their leader was Lorelei, a Lord who already stood at the pinnacle of the magecraft world.
"Doesn't that mean you can't act?" Altrouge looked a little disappointed. For some reason, she had really hoped that the first time she unleashed her power in this battle would be alongside Rimuru.
Every generation of Barthomeloi heads had been intensely hostile toward vampires. In fact, it wasn't just the heads of the family. Anyone born into Barthomeloi seemed to tirelessly hunt vampires for reasons no one could explain. Legend had it that Lorelei, who always valued rules, had once even skipped a meeting of the Lords to hunt vampires—
This inexplicable hostility was one reason Rimuru knew he absolutely couldn't reveal his identity.
Perhaps none of the Lords would care if he held a seat among the Dead Apostles, but the Barthomeloi family was different. They would care, and the moment they found out, they would switch sides without hesitation and drive him out—or even... annihilate him!
That was why Rimuru couldn't attack the Barthomeloi Choir. He couldn't risk being discovered, not even a little.
"It's not as if I can't act at all." Rimuru saw the disappointment in Altrouge's eyes and chuckled. "If Barthomeloi has been drawn away... doesn't that mean I can go deal with the main force?"
Aside from Barthomeloi, the front-line army also had the Lords and magi of the El-Melloi and Achelotte factions.
"Fine, do as you like." Altrouge frowned in displeasure, then turned and flew toward Merem Solomon, concealing her presence.
"Be careful." Rimuru suddenly stepped closer and caught her, speaking softly and seriously. "Barthomeloi's element is wind. Vacuum Magecraft is silent and terrifying, so be careful."
"...Mm." Altrouge paused slightly, then turned her head away with an awkward expression...
"You too..."
Watching Altrouge fly away, Rimuru sighed softly. His original plan had been for the Black Winged Duke to hold Barthomeloi back, but... he looked toward the distant Celtic Sea. In the sky there, countless chimera and magi skilled in transformation were sweeping in under the leadership of the Department of Zoology's Chimera. As the only king of the sky, the Black Winged Duke could only head there to organize a defense and delay their advance.
Even though he'd prepared as thoroughly as he could, once the enemy's floodlike assault began, Rimuru still felt the strain. No matter how much they looked down on the lowly foot soldiers, the pressure those numbers could bring was impossible to ignore. It was enough to leave him stretched too thin.
When all was said and done, the only medium-tier forces Rimuru could field were the few thousand Dead Apostles under Altrouge.
Even the Black Knight Sturt was in Austria, fighting as Altrouge's Executor and leading her people.
At the thought, Rimuru shook his head and set it aside. He glanced at the Demon Dog, which the binding chains were slowly subduing, and vanished without hesitation—
Slashes of light appeared from all directions out of thin air and crashed into the Demon Dog's scaly body with a boom. They didn't hurt him at all, but they shattered all the binding spells around him. Rimuru landed on his head, and at the same moment, the Demon Dog raised its head and let out a mighty roar.
A shockwave exploded outward like ripples, sending dozens of unsuspecting magi tumbling. The Demon Dog also swiped a paw, smashing several nuns to pieces.
But that left Rimuru, perched on its head, suddenly off balance. So...
"Don't move around, you little cutie." He gave a displeased little stomp, releasing a vast aura of a True Ancestor. "Don't you recognize me?"
"You..." A voice as violent as thunder rang out in Rimuru's mind. "I'll never forget that annoying voice of yours."
"Good." Rimuru lifted his head without concern and smiled. "But obviously, we have to fight together now."
"Charge, Gorath!!"
"Gorath?"
"The new name I gave you. Do you like it?"
"..." He didn't like it at all. What kind of stupid name was that?
Just then, Rimuru seemed to sense something and looked in a certain direction on the ground. A monstrous shadow had knocked down dozens of Executors in an instant. Then a foolish white dog darted through the crowd, frantically racing toward him.
Oh, had Fou sensed the threat to his place as Rimuru's favorite? He was in such a hurry.
Fou sprang high into the air, then swiftly leaped onto the Demon Dog's enormous back and raced toward Rimuru. Rimuru couldn't help smiling and lifting a hand to catch him—only to see Fou's eyes narrow as a sharp aura swept over him. Fou suddenly launched a flying kick!
That move was bad news!
Before Rimuru could react, a soft paw kicked him squarely in the face with tremendous force. "Fou... Fou flying kick?"
Bang!
Rimuru's face burst into a splash of blood once more, while Fou landed in the arms of his headless corpse and looked thoroughly pleased with himself. "Hmph! You damned bastard."
"Can you two be serious during wartime?" One attack after another rained down on the Demon Dog's massive body. Trampled beneath the feet of the two of them, he complained in their minds, "Don't think that just because you're both Ancestors like Merem, you can walk all over me."
Boom! A magic cannon struck the distant crowd. Countless streaks of blood bloomed like flowers, and amid the slaughter, one blood clone after another slowly took shape. It cut off the Demon Dog mid-sentence. Rimuru re-formed his head and chuckled. "What was that?"
As the fog spread, the blood-sea clones slowly gathered, forming a formation of nearly ten thousand around the Demon Dog. Seeing this, the magi withdrew as one, switching from attacking to defending.
"A powerful deterrent." Rimuru lowered his eyes, watching the troops retreat outright. He set the white beast in his arms down and spoke softly. "That's proof we belong here."
"..."
The Demon Dog fell silent, while the commanders behind the magi and the Pope were thrown into disarray.
"Damn it..." Beneath the vast shadow, the besieging magi narrowed their eyes and frowned tightly. "It's the White Knight and the Primate Murder... Everyone fall back! Defensive formation! Damn it, why now..."
When confronted by a formidable threat, the magi's instinct for self-preservation and their independence immediately became apparent. They scattered at once, releasing all kinds of defensive measures to protect themselves. The Executors at the front and the exposed nuns, however, suffered the consequences. Without the magi's suppression and protection, the casualties quickly grew lopsided.
Seeing the front line fall into chaos without anyone to lead it, the Popes in the rear felt a headache coming on. By now, they'd realized that the enemy might have deliberately used Barthomeloi's tendency to answer any provocation to lure her away. But the problem was...
"Lord El-Melloi has to escort Professor Tempest back to the Clock Tower. What about Lord Achelotte?!"
"Uh... Liddell should've gone back with him by now, right?" Tes scratched his head and answered helplessly.
"???"
"Outrageous!!"
"?" Tes frowned at that and replied irritably, "Watch your tone, Pope Smith. The Magic Association and the Church are partners, not superior and subordinate. To be precise, we have the right to decide how our people attack and retreat."
"You..."
"All right, that's enough." An elderly woman with white hair suddenly spoke up, stopping the other Pope. She glanced at the rampaging monster before turning to Tes. "Sir Tes, you must know that those sent to attack on the front line this time are all first-rate magi and Executors. In terms of overall strength, we aren't afraid of a White Knight and the Primate Murder."
"What we fear is how well the two of them work together."
"Magi are powerful when they fight together, but they still need someone respected enough to lead them. That's why you have the title of Magical Marshal."
The existence of a mage corps had always been the greatest threat to the Church. The largest united force of magi numbered no more than a hundred, but even a hundred could deal a terrifying blow to tens of thousands of Church troops. The fifty-member Choir was proof enough. The Twelve Lords' system of family branches, in which each head led a dozen first-rate magi from the branches into battle, was itself a lesser version of a mage corps.
"Now, surely an organization as vast as the Magic Association wouldn't leave the entire command structure of its mage corps in the hands of Barthomeloi alone?"
"Tsk." Tes Gaiusling narrowed his eyes slightly and smiled. "I understand what you mean, but unfortunately, I can't shoulder that responsibility."
"A Magical Marshal needs more than strong command abilities. Their own strength must also rival that of a Lord. Otherwise, a decapitation strike becomes the deadliest threat to a mage corps, even a temporary one..."
"I don't want the White Knight setting his sights on me."
"Then do you have any better ideas, Lord Gaiusling?" The elderly woman pressed him. "We agreed that your three families would bear the brunt of the front-line fighting, while we would provide all the support we could. But now, are you going to stand by and let the enemy run rampant among our poor believers while your magi stand by and pitifully pray that they aren't the ones to die?"
"With such a powerful allied force, are we really going to rout just because of two Ancestors? Heh. If word got out, it would deal a devastating blow to the Magic Association's reputation, wouldn't it?"
Chapter 68: Is Liddell Trying to Sneak a Bite?
"But the problem is, even if I stepped up and took responsibility for command, it wouldn't change the situation." Tes narrowed his eyes and pointed toward the enormous shadow ahead. The Demon Dog looked imposing, but it had actually killed fewer people than anyone else.
What had truly forced the Executors and magi to retreat, the enemy they couldn't resist, was the Primate Murder, an Ancestor whose shadowy form appeared with almost every roar, sending ripples outward that wiped out everything human.
"You have to understand: even Barthomeloi can't order a group of magi to march to their deaths when they know they'll die. How could I?"
"Even Rimuru Tempest, a first-rate magus who came closest to being a Lord and had recently become famous, couldn't withstand a single strike. He's already been urgently sent back to the London Clock Tower. In that situation, how many people do you think would be willing to take his place?"
"The Primate Murder isn't impossible to fight..." Tes replied helplessly. "According to the original plan, Lord Yuri Phis, the Undying Lord of the Department of Spiritual Evocation, was supposed to deal with it."
Just as the plan for the Black Winged Duke to deal with Barthomeloi—matching what Rimuru had expected—had been shattered without mercy, the enemy would never let things go according to plan. Yuri Phis, the Lord from the faction best suited to infiltrate enemy territory, hold off the Primate Murder, summon the dead, and keep himself alive, had yet to send any word. No one knew why.
"In that case... does your side really have no other preparations?" The old woman was clearly unsatisfied. She pressed on. "Didn't that so-called first-rate magus offer any useful advice before he fell?"
"Advice? Oh, sure." Tes raised his head indifferently and looked at the rampaging Demon Dog, the white beast, and the White Knight standing atop the Demon Dog, letting his magic flow as his blood army reaped its victims. He suddenly smiled. "We have an overwhelming advantage in numbers, so..."
"Use people to hold it back. Pile up the dead and wear down its stamina. But we're elite magi, so clearly we're not going to do that."
He turned to the old woman, whose expression had darkened, and said, "As the first advance force to arrive on the battlefield, surely you have a clear idea of your own position? Or do you have no clear idea of the position of your people?"
"Aren't believers like these the Church's..."
"Most suitable cannon fodder?"
Before you continue