The following days passed like the quiet before a storm—tensions building, small skirmishes flaring up on the northern borders, but nothing major. Rimuru held its breath as the northern warlords consolidated their forces. Meanwhile, within the city, the discontent Lucan had been quietly nurturing finally burst into open defiance.
It started with a series of minor protests—citizens and refugees alike marching in the streets, chanting slogans demanding reform, justice, and a stronger voice in Rimuru's governance. Padrino had expected this. He had even prepared for it, believing the people would tire once they saw the council's efforts to provide for them.
But it wasn't long before the protests grew larger, more organized. Lucan's hand was obvious. In the dark corners of the city, his people moved swiftly, turning frustration into fury, giving discontent a direction. His message was clear: Padrino and his council were out of touch, disconnected from the true heart of Rimuru's people. The refugees had been abandoned, their promises broken, and Lucan was the only one willing to lead them.
Padrino gathered his council in the war room, the air heavy with urgency. Marko, Hinata, Lady Elara, Asuna, and Vincent all stood around the table, grim expressions etched on their faces. The reports were clear—Lucan's faction was no longer a mere nuisance. It was a full-blown threat, and with the northern warlords preparing to attack, Rimuru couldn't afford internal division.
"We need to act now," Marko said, his voice firm. "Lucan's gathering more supporters by the day. If we let this rebellion grow any larger, it will split the city in two. We'll be fighting a war on two fronts."
"We can't ignore the northern threat either," Vincent added. "The warlords are just waiting for a moment of weakness. If Lucan sparks open rebellion, they'll seize the opportunity."
Padrino's gaze swept across the room. "We've been careful not to escalate things with Lucan, but that ends now. We can't let him undermine the stability we've worked so hard to build."
Lady Elara, who had been working tirelessly to sway the refugees, looked troubled. "If you move against Lucan directly, there will be bloodshed. The refugees see him as their champion. If we strike at him too openly, it could turn into a civil war."
Padrino knew she was right. But he also knew that they had no other choice. Lucan had pushed them into a corner, and now the rebellion he had been quietly stoking was beginning to boil over.
"We need to find Lucan's inner circle," Hinata said, her eyes sharp. "Take them out one by one. If we cut the head off the snake, the body will wither. The refugees might support him, but they won't follow him into a suicide mission."
Marko nodded in agreement. "Lucan's power lies in his ability to manipulate. If we can expose him for what he truly is—a man seeking power for his own gain rather than the people's—we can turn the tide."
Padrino straightened, his resolve hardening. "Then we'll take a two-pronged approach. Hinata, I want you to gather intelligence on Lucan's key supporters. We'll neutralize them quietly, before they can rally any more strength. Elara, continue working with the refugees. Show them we haven't abandoned them. If we can keep the majority on our side, Lucan will have fewer people to sway."
"And the warlords?" Vincent asked.
Padrino sighed, his mind racing. "We hold the line. Marko, you'll command the northern defenses. We can't let them breach Rimuru's borders. If we lose ground to the warlords, we're finished."
That night, as Padrino walked through the palace corridors, he felt the weight of leadership pressing heavily on his shoulders. The choices he was making now would define Rimuru's future—whether it would survive or fall to chaos. Every decision felt like a tightrope walk, one misstep away from disaster.
He stopped before a large window that overlooked the city. Below, the streets were quiet for now, but he knew that the peace was fragile. The people were angry, afraid, uncertain of what the future held. And in the shadows, Lucan was waiting to fan the flames.
As Padrino stared out into the night, Hinata approached quietly. She had been his constant companion, his most trusted ally. But even now, he could see the weariness in her eyes—the strain of battle, both physical and emotional, was taking its toll on them all.
"We'll get through this," she said softly, standing beside him. "We've faced worse."
Padrino shook his head. "It's different this time. It's not just an enemy from the outside. It's our own people turning against us."
Hinata's gaze didn't falter. "That's why we have to fight harder. For them. For Rimuru."
Padrino nodded, but the doubt lingered. He wondered if, in trying to protect the city, he was losing something vital—if the very heart of Rimuru, the unity they had once fought so hard to build, was slipping through his fingers.
The next morning, the rebellion began in earnest.
Lucan's supporters took to the streets, armed and emboldened by their leader's promises of freedom and justice. Fires were lit in the poorer districts, and the sounds of rioting echoed through the night. The city guard, caught off guard by the sudden escalation, struggled to contain the unrest.
But it was not just the streets that were under siege. Lucan had planned his move carefully, and his followers attacked key locations across the city—supply depots, armories, and even the barracks of the city's defenders. It was chaos, and Padrino knew that if they didn't act swiftly, Rimuru could fall into anarchy.
Padrino called for an emergency meeting of the council. The mood in the war room was tense—Lady Elara, who had been working to calm the refugees, looked shaken. "Lucan's pushed too far. If this continues, we'll have a full-scale revolt on our hands."
Marko slammed his fist on the table. "Then we hit him where it hurts. We need to take control of the situation before it spirals further out of control."
Padrino agreed. "We strike now. Marko, take your best men and secure the city's key locations—especially the armories and supply routes. We can't let Lucan gain control of any more resources."
Hinata nodded, already formulating a plan. "I'll coordinate with our spies. If we can locate Lucan's hideout, we'll cut the head off the rebellion before it grows any larger."
Lady Elara, her voice steady but urgent, added, "We still need to be careful not to alienate the refugees. If they believe we're indiscriminately attacking them, Lucan will have more fuel for his fire."
Padrino's expression was grim. "We'll do what we must. But we cannot allow Rimuru to burn."
As Marko's forces moved through the city, putting down pockets of rebellion and securing key locations, Hinata worked tirelessly to gather intelligence on Lucan's whereabouts. She had contacts in every corner of the city, and it wasn't long before she found what they were looking for.
Lucan had taken refuge in an abandoned estate on the outskirts of the city, a once-grand mansion that had fallen into disrepair after the collapse of Earlshide. It was there that he had been coordinating his rebellion, surrounded by his closest supporters.
Padrino knew it was time for a decisive strike.
As night fell, Padrino led a small, elite group of soldiers through the darkened streets of Rimuru. Hinata and Marko were by his side, their faces set in determination. They moved quickly and quietly, avoiding the larger skirmishes that still raged in the city.
When they reached the estate, they found it heavily guarded, but not impenetrable. Padrino's men moved swiftly, taking out the guards with precision and silence.
Inside the mansion, Lucan was waiting.
He stood at the far end of the grand hall, surrounded by his remaining supporters. His eyes burned with defiance, but Padrino could see the desperation beneath it.
"You've come to kill me," Lucan said, his voice calm despite the chaos around him.
Padrino stepped forward. "I've come to end this rebellion. It's over, Lucan."
Lucan smiled, a cold, bitter smile. "It's never over, Padrino. You may kill me, but you can't kill the idea I've planted in the people's hearts. Rimuru was built on the backs of the refugees, and they will never forget that."
Padrino's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. "This city was built by all of us. Together. You're the one tearing it apart."
Lucan's eyes gleamed. "You'll see. In the end, they'll turn on you too."
With that, Lucan drew his sword.
The final confrontation had begun.