"Well played," Morax muttered as he eyed the evolving Rimuru. It was extremely reckless to trust the words of a noble elf from a distant land about a fairy tale, but the tale itself held truth since it was based off of historical act.
Many tales are also based on such history, and among them was even about Velmorax, the Myriad Dragon, which was also based on a true story.
Committing a mass slaughter to the invading armies of Falmuth and the Western Church, then using all the gathered souls of the thousands of deceased to evolve himself into a demon lord and subsequently resurrect the dead.
How sly… yet, fascinating, Morax thought. But that's not what interested him most. The revival of the dead, the evolution to a demon lord, and even Rimuru's acquisition of an ultimate skill was of little significance to Morax, but rather—it was the demon who the slime summoned as a guard that piqued his interest.
"The Primal Black, Noir… how long has it been since you've acted on the world?" Morax smiled. The primordial black was a notorious demon, even to Testarossa. Anyways, it had been a few days since his slight talk with Luminous and Rimuru's harvest festival, and the latter is still sound asleep after spending all his energy on his followers' resurrection.
He didn't mention anything to Luminous but judging from the way she acted, she didn't have a clue nor did she have a care on what her followers and believers were doing. But something about Luminous gave Morax some odd feeling—like she knows what's happened but rather deemed it a necessary thing.
The image of a certain and powerful human hero wearing a mask flashed in his mind.
Chronoa… nah, it can't be, right? The demon's weird obsession over Rimuru, the odd mysteriousness of Rimuru himself, the ties of that certain mask to Rimuru, Chronoa's ties to Veldora, Veldora's ties to Rimuru, Luminous' weird atmosphere… in the end, it all boiled down to Rimuru.
As he was pondering things just above the capital of Tempest, he recalled a certain memory when he had a little talk time with Luminous over tea.
"That Milim though, she declared war with Demon Lord Carrion and his entire kingdom. I honestly can't comprehend what's going on over her head but I'm positively certain that Clayman's involved in it somehow…"
Milim… Morax just recalled the name. She was the only child of his oldest brother—Veldanava, the Stellar Dragon as well as the most extraordinary of the dragon race. Milim was an ancient demon lord and the niece of Morax, but she was a few centuries older than him.
She'd never met him, and he'd never met her. Even though both Velmorax and Milim Nava were very active on the Age of Ragnarok a thousand years ago, slaughtering everything that opposed them, they never had the chance to even see each other. Or maybe they did and they just failed to recognize one another.
But I'd recognize a dragon's factor if I see it… Morax reasoned.
He looked down below on the bustling city of Tempest, still busy with rejuvenation, repair, and treatment, but nevertheless, everyone had a smile on their faces. The awakening of their master was imminent, and their fate on him grew stronger by the day. About damn time…
Just as he said that, a powerful aura erupted in the east. It was immense and explosive, especially bright and rich of magicules even. "That's my cue," Morax muttered as he flew through the air at high speeds.
...…
...
…
The Demon Lord Carrion found himself in shocking disbelief. He's heard tales of the dragon princess before, and how she's slaughtered countless majin and demon lords alike with her own hands.
But even then, this was a scene straight out of a nightmare. He found himself looking at the scorching remains of his capital city and even beyond, all the way through the rich mountains and lands that bordered his capital. All of it were obliterated to nothingness after her use of Drago Nova.
Even after transforming himself into his maximum battle mode, and utilizing each and every single move at his disposal—even his ultimate technique—he never gave the Demon Lord Nava anything more than a slight numbness of her left hand.
This was the Destroyer, Milim Nava.
The daughter of the Stellar Dragon and one of the most ancient and powerful demon lords in existence. Despite being a demon lord himself, Carrion can't help but lament the sheer difference in strength. His pride as both king and demon lord were plummeted in the face of such destructiveness.
But even with his pride shattered, an ominous premonition kept plaguing Carrion's mind. Is she really being controlled? He thought it was laughable at first, but then it made more and more sense as moments pass. Those empty eyes as she obliterated his capital city seemed so terrifying.
It was then that Carrion felt a knife on his neck. "You too, Frey!?" He shouted, unable to contain the complaining rage in his heart.
"It's best if you don't move," she said with the same bewitching sound of her voice. But another being came. This one's sheer strength of presence made Demon Lord Carrion recall his one-sided fight with Milim Nava in a wave of disturbingly gross nostalgia.
Carrion's momentary stupor was abruptly shattered as a dark presence washed over the entire atmosphere. The air grew heavy, laden with an oppressive weight that pressed down on his and Frey's chests. Carrion felt both of their breath hitched, and a cold sweat broke out their forehead.
Carrion's heart pounded furiously, each beat echoing in his ears like a war drum. It was as if the very atmosphere had turned hostile, thick with an almost tangible malevolence. He thought it was Milim, but no. This one's presence and strength are different from Milim Nava… it was overwhelmingly sinister!
Frey dropped the knife and glanced around, her eyes wide with alarm. It was as though an invisible force had gripped her heart, squeezing the life out of it. Even though the knife stuck on his throat was gone, Carrion felt himself unable to move. Every instinct in his body screamed for him to flee, to get as far away from this suffocating dread as possible.
It was a primal, all-consuming terror that reached deep into both Demon Lords' cores, awakening an ancient instinct to hide, to cower, to survive.
Then the being revealed itself.
Emerging from the darkened sky was a tall, handsome young man, seemingly in his mid-twenties. His presence was commanding, with sharp features and striking amber eyes that held a disturbing curiosity. There was a predatory hunger in his gaze, a craving for chaos and blood. His dark brown hair and refined exterior gave him an air of otherworldly elegance.
Even in the presence of an ancient demon lord, the man was exuding confidence and an almost leisurely arrogance. Both Carrion and Frey found themselves unable to look away, entranced and terrified by his magnetic yet menacing presence. Unaware of his true identity, they sensed this was no ordinary being but a force of nature, embodying both beauty and terror.
Both Demon Lords turned to Milim Nava, delusionally hoping for some semblance of reassurance. But even she, with her usual indomitable demeanor, seemed affected. Her eyes, formerly empty of any empathy, had narrowed, scanning the man with a predator's focus. The sight of her tension, her guarded stance… it was terrifying.
The oppressive aura induced by both Milim and the man intensified, pressing down on Carrion's and Frey's chests with a weight that felt like it could crush their bones. Their vision blurred at the edges, and they felt a wave of nausea rise within them. It was as if the darkness itself was seeping into their soul, a cold, relentless force that threatened to drown her in despair.
"Just what are you doing, Milim?" The voice muttered, yet it reverberated throughout the entire space like the very air itself tried to flee from the man.
"You are…" Milim muttered much in the same silently loud way. "Velmorax!" She said, her expression distorting into something more disturbing. "That's my line, what is the Myriad Dragon doing her, oh so majestically gracing us with his presence?"
Velmorax's lips curved into a sinister smile, his eyes glinting with malice. "Why, Milim, I merely came to see if the rumors were true. That my little dragon niece had grown soft, playing with her mortal toys instead of ruling with the iron fist she once did. But rumors are just rumors, I guess."
Milim's eyes flared with rage, her aura crackling with barely contained power. "Watch your tongue, Velmorax. I've crushed beings far greater than you for lesser insults."
"Is that so?" Velmorax taunted, coming closer, his aura matching hers in intensity. "Would you care to see for yourself, princess?"
The tension in the air became palpable, an almost physical force that pushed Carrion and Frey to their knees. Milim's fists clenched, her body trembling with anger. "Enough talk. If you seek to challenge me, then let us see who truly stands supreme."
Velmorax's smile widened to depravity—almost crazed and manic—his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "With pleasure, Milim. Let's see if the self-proclaimed 'Destroyer' still has the bite to match her bark."
As the two powers collided, the atmosphere around them cracked, and the sky itself seemed to darken further, a prelude to the cataclysmic battle that was about to unfold.
Both Frey and Carrion found themselves unable to move. Both of them had faced many dangers, many threats, but nothing had ever evoked such a profound sense of helplessness. This was different. This was a fear that transcended reason, a terror that seemed to strip away all layers of courage and strength, leaving both of them raw and vulnerable.
The light faded away from the eyes of Carrion and Frey. Despite the existence-shattering fear, the very fact that their lives would be erased if the two beings—Milim and Velmorax—further intensified their aura, they found themselves mesmerized.
Their only regret as their consciousnesses faded was being unable to witness such a historical-worthy fight. A clash of gods, of beyonders, of dreamers, of destroyers, of beings that view lives as nothing more than lesser playthings.