Author's Note:
Looking for some system novels? Be sure to check out my other stories:
I Was ¥1.8 Million in Debt When the Legacy System Chose Me — a grounded rags-to-riches journey featuring business, romance, self-improvement and empire-building.
The System Turned Football's Worst Prospect Into a Monster — a football journey filled with training, rivalries, career progression and the rise of a rejected prospect.
Please add both to your library, give them some powerstones and give them a read. Thank you for the support!
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The damp marshlands bordering the Kingdom of Blumund were enveloped in a heavy, motionless fog. Through this grey gloom marched the grand pride of the Kingdom of Falmuth. A massive vanguard of twenty thousand heavily armored knights, foot soldiers, and ruthless mercenary divisions. The rhythmic clinking of their high-grade iron and steel echoed off the waterlogged earth like a steady, suffocating drumbeat.
At the head of this grand column, high-ranking nobles rode atop pristine steeds, their colorful family crest banners fluttering in the cold wind. Further back, safely nestled inside iron-reinforced carriages, wealthy merchant barons were already discussing how they would divide the spoils and land rights of the tiny Blumund nation.
Riding directly beside the lead vanguard commanders was the State Archmage, Razen. His heavy travelling hood was pulled exceptionally low over his face, casting a dark shadow across his features. To any external observer, he was the picture of stoic, loyal calculation, silently planning the perfect strategy to break the enemy.
But beneath that quiet exterior, Razen's mind was completely vacant of his original free will. The delicate, unbreakable threads of Demon Lord Loki's high-tier mental domination had completely rewritten his neural pathways. Every breath he took, every command he issued, was meticulously pre-programmed.
'March forward,' the silent command of Loki echoed deep within the empty chambers of Razen's soul. 'Lead them directly into the center of the trap.'
Razen looked back at the marching column, a subtle, completely hollow smile stretching across his face.
"Commanders, we have officially reached the optimal staging ground," Razen spoke, his voice carrying an artificial warmth. "The Blumund border guard is completely disorganized and terrified. We shall strike from this coordinate."
The lead vanguard commander, a bloated, arrogant noble named Folgen, grinned fiercely as he drew his broadsword. "Perfect. This will be a glorious bloodbath. Those pathetic merchants won't even realize they are under siege before their capital is burning."
High above the marshlands, standing silently on a floating platform of condensed magical energy, Rimuru Tempest looked down at the massive army. His vibrant blue hair fluttered in the high-altitude wind, and his features were concealed behind his signature white, cracked mask.
He slowly raised his hand, his fingers spreading wide. Floating in perfect concentric circles around his body were thousands of microscopic, hyper-focused droplets of water, each one acting as a mathematically perfect convex lens, adjusting their angles to track the morning sun.
"Megiddo," Rimuru whispered.
The sunlight passing through the atmosphere was instantly captured by the hovering water lenses, concentrating the massive, natural thermal energy of the sun into thousands of ultra-thin, silent beams of light that shot down toward the earth at light speed.
In a single instant, the marshlands became a silent, terrifying slaughterhouse.
The beams of light pierced through high-grade steel helmets, heavy plate shields, and thick leather armor with absolute, terrifying precision. There were no grand, roaring explosions of magic. There were no desperate battle cries, and there was no glorious clash of steel. There was only the dull, rhythmic sound of fully armored bodies collapsing limply into the wet mud.
"What is happening?!" Folgen roared, his eyes wide with sheer panic as his vice-commander suddenly collapsed beside him, a smoking, perfectly round hole drilled straight through his forehead. "Are we under magic attack?! Where are the barrier mages?!"
"They are already dead, My Lord!" a scout screamed, stumbling over a pile of smoking corpses before a silent beam of light pierced his chest, instantly ending his life.
Within a matter of minutes, the proud twenty thousand strong army of Falmuth was completely erased. The marshlands fell dead silent, the ground stained deep crimson with the blood of the fallen.
Rimuru floated down from the sky, landing softly on the blood-soaked earth. The sheer volume of twenty thousand human souls he had just harvested was swirling around him, a massive, spiritual vortex of blue and purple energy that began to pull violently at his very consciousness.
Suddenly, a grand, majestic voice resonated directly into his mind, echoing through the empty space of his soul.
[Report. The necessary conditions have been met. The individualAtashi's transition into a True Demon Lord is now commencing. The Harvest Festival shall now begin.]
A wave of profound, inescapable exhaustion washed over Rimuru. His knees buckled, and he felt his consciousness rapidly slipping into a deep, evolutionary slumber.
"Shoot... it's starting," Rimuru muttered, shaking his head to stay awake as he looked at the thousands of fresh corpses scattering the battlefield. "I can't just fall asleep here. If there are any survivors... or if anyone tries to interfere..."
He took a deep, ragged breath, channeling his remaining mana. "With these offerings as a medium... I summon you. Come forth, servants of the shadow. Secure the area... protect me."
A massive, pitch-black magic circle erupted across the blood-soaked ground, its dark runes glowing with a terrifying, ancient power. The spatial boundaries violently tore open, and out of the abyssal gate stepped a figure of absolute, majestic elegance.
He was tall, slender, and incredibly poised, clad in a pristine, tailored black suit that didn't carry a single speck of dust despite the surrounding mud. His long black hair was streaked with single, brilliant strands of red and gold, and his eyes were dark pools with pupils of burning gold.
It was Noir, the Black Primordial.
The moment Diablo's boots touched the blood-stained earth, his face lit up with an expression of pure, ecstatic devotion. He looked down at the slumbering form of Rimuru, who was now being gently cradled by the protective threads of his own magic.
"Oh... what a magnificent, utterly breathtaking master," Diablo whispered, his voice smooth, melodic, and trembling with deep, emotional reverence. "To think that such a splendid, young soul would summon me directly. This is the absolute peak of my long, boring existence."
The two lesser demons who had emerged beside him bowed deeply, their bodies trembling under Diablo's latent pressure. "Lord Noir, what are your instructions?"
"Our master is currently undergoing his glorious evolution," Diablo said, his golden eyes narrowing with a sharp, terrifying intensity as he looked around the silent battlefield. "Our sole purpose in this world is to serve him flawlessly. Clean up any remaining survivors. Secure the perimeter. If a single blade of grass disturbs our master's sleep... I shall systematically erase your spiritual cores from existence."
"Yes, My Lord!" the demons cried out, vanishing into the shadows to execute their orders.
Diablo knelt beside Rimuru, a faint, elegant smile playing on his lips. "Sleep peacefully, my master. Your loyal servant shall guard your transition until the very end."
---
At the exact same time, thousands of miles away, a massive political earthquake was rocking the Holy Empire of Lubelius.
The grand, white stone plazas outside the Cathedral of Luminous were completely packed with tens of thousands of citizens, lower-tier clergy, and fanatic templars. The air was thick with tension, buzzing with a volatile, explosive anger that threatened to boil over at any moment.
Just hours ago, the imperial administration had released an official, nationwide decree. The Holy Empire of Lubelius was officially recognizing the Kingdom of Coleus as a sovereign nation. Furthermore, they were preparing to initiate formal, deep diplomatic and economic relations with them.
To the citizens who had been raised on the strict, unyielding doctrine of Luminism. Which taught that all monsters were absolute evil and must be systematically exterminated. This announcement was nothing short of a theological betrayal.
"This is heresy!" a lower-tier priest screamed from the top of a stone fountain, his hands shaking as he held up a holy scripture. "How can the Holy Empire shake hands with a Demon Lord?! Coleus is a nation of monsters! To align ourselves with them is to spit on the divine protection of the Goddess Luminous!"
"The knights have betrayed us!" a templar shouted, slamming his fist against his shield. "We have spent our entire lives fighting to protect humanity from the threat of demons! And now, our leaders want us to welcome them into our cities as diplomatic guests?! We demand answers!"
"Down with the council! Protect the faith!" the crowd roared in unison, their voices building into a deafening, chaotic wall of sound. The peaceful streets of the holy city were on the absolute verge of a massive, violent civil uprising.
The grand, massive oak doors leading to the central balcony of the Grand Cathedral slowly swung open.
Out stepped Hinata Sakaguchi.
She was clad in her full, majestic Holy Knight Captain uniform, her silver rapier resting silently at her hip. Her short, dark hair rustled slightly in the wind, and her face was a mask of absolute, frozen calm. Behind her stood several of the Ten Great Saints, their hands resting on their weapons as they looked out at the rioting crowd with deep apprehension.
The moment Hinata stepped onto the balcony, the sheer, crushing weight of her presence seemed to physical ripple over the plaza. Her dark eyes swept over the massive crowd, and though she didn't say a word, her silent gaze was enough to cause the nearest protesters to immediately lose their breath.
She reached up to her collar, activating a high-tier wind-attribute magic tool that was designed to amplify her voice across the entire capital.
"Silence," Hinata spoke.
Her voice, cold, sharp, and entirely unyielding, boomed through the plaza like a sudden crack of thunder. The sheer, physical force of her tone cut through the chaotic shouting of the crowd, instantly silencing the thousands of protesting voices.
"I have listened to your concerns, and I find them to be incredibly foolish," Hinata said, her voice dripping with a brutal, pragmatic coldness. "You stand in this sacred plaza, waving your banners and shouting about betrayal. You claim to be the protectors of the faith, yet you understand absolutely nothing of the divine will."
She took a slow step forward, gripping the marble railing of the balcony as she looked down at the trembling priests.
"Let me make this perfectly clear to every single person standing in this city," Hinata declared, her voice rising in power. "The decision to recognize the Kingdom of Coleus and establish diplomatic relations is not a political compromise. It is not a modern necessity, nor is it a strategic surrender."
She paused, letting the silence stretch over the plaza before delivering the final, crushing blow.
"This is a Direct Decree from the God Luminous herself."
A collective gasp of pure, unadulterated shock rippled through the massive crowd. The priests who had been screaming heresy suddenly froze, their faces turning completely pale as they stared up at Hinata in mute disbelief.
"Our Goddess has looked upon the changing tides of the world," Hinata continued, her voice carrying the absolute, unquestionable authority of the divine. "She has willed that this alliance shall take place to ensure the absolute prosperity and long-term security of her chosen people. To question this decree... is to question the infallible wisdom of God Luminous. To protest this alliance... is to commit absolute heresy against the Goddess you claim to serve."
She looked down at the crowd, her dark eyes flashing with a dangerous, warning light. "If there is anyone among you who believes their mortal intellect superior to the divine will of the Goddess Luminous... step forward now. I shall happily send your soul directly to her for personal judgment."
No one moved.
The tens of thousands of citizens, templars, and priests stood completely frozen in the plaza. The fierce, boiling rage that had been threatening to burn the holy city to the ground instantly evaporated, completely crushed under the absolute weight of their deity's explicit mandate.
In the world of Luminism, the word of God was absolute. If the Goddess Luminous willed that they make peace with a Demon Lord, then making peace was the only holy and righteous path.
Slowly, the priest who had been screaming from the fountain dropped to his knees, slamming his forehead against the stone floor in deep, repentant prayer. Within seconds, the entire crowd of tens of thousands of people followed suit, dropping to their knees in unison as they began to chant prayers of absolute compliance and devotion.
"Forgive us, Goddess Luminous!" the crowd wept softly. "Your will is absolute! We shall follow your path without question!"
Hinata watched the groveling crowd for a long moment, her expression remaining entirely unbothered. She deactivated the magic tool, turned on her heel, and walked back into the grand cathedral doors, leaving a peaceful, entirely submissive populace in her wake.
'Well, that handled the domestic front,' Hinata thought to herself, a small, weary sigh escaping her lips. 'Now, all eyes are on the Barren Lands. Loki... you better not lose that fight.'
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