The grand hall of the abandoned estate, once filled with the echoes of luxury and power, was now the battlefield where Rimuru's fate would be decided. Padrino stood opposite Lucan, their swords gleaming under the dim light of flickering torches. The air between them crackled with tension, the weight of their ideologies hanging over every move.
Behind Padrino, Marko and Hinata were prepared for anything, but they knew this battle wasn't just physical—it was symbolic. Lucan had rallied the disillusioned and angry under his banner, and his defeat would mark the turning point in Rimuru's future. But it had to be decisive, a victory that would not leave room for more seeds of rebellion to grow.
Lucan sneered, his confidence unwavering. "You think killing me will solve your problems, Padrino? You think these people will just fall back in line, obedient to your every word? You've become exactly what you once despised—a king, ruling over people who never asked for it."
Padrino's face was stoic, but his mind churned with memories of everything they'd been through to build Rimuru. The city, once a small village, had grown into something much larger—something worth fighting for. He'd done everything to protect it, but Lucan was right in one thing: he'd become more than just a villager. He was now a ruler, and that came with hard choices.
"I didn't choose this path," Padrino said, raising his sword. "But I won't let you destroy what we've built, no matter what you claim to be fighting for."
With a roar, Lucan lunged, his sword flashing toward Padrino with lethal speed. Padrino parried the blow, steel clashing against steel, and the force of the strike reverberated through his arms. Lucan was quick—quicker than Padrino had expected—but he wasn't just fighting with his body. He was fighting with the fury of a man who believed he was the rightful savior of the people.
Lucan attacked again, swinging his blade in a flurry of strikes. Padrino deflected each one, but the ferocity of the assault pushed him back toward the far wall. It was clear Lucan wasn't just skilled; he was fighting with a desperation that made him dangerous.
"You think you can rule them all, don't you?" Lucan spat between strikes. "You think your council, your nobles, and your soldiers can keep the people in line forever? You're no different than the kings you once swore to overthrow!"
Padrino ducked under a wild slash and stepped forward, delivering a powerful blow that sent Lucan staggering back. "I never wanted to be king, Lucan. I only wanted to protect my people."
Lucan wiped blood from his lip, a mad grin spreading across his face. "Your people? You mean the ones you've abandoned? The ones who will starve while you sit on your throne and pretend you're different?"
With a furious cry, Lucan charged again, his sword aimed directly at Padrino's heart. Padrino sidestepped at the last moment, slashing across Lucan's arm. The rebel leader grunted in pain but didn't stop. He spun and swung again, this time narrowly missing Padrino's side.
The clash of their blades echoed through the hall, each strike a reflection of their beliefs. Padrino fought with the calm precision of a leader defending what he had built, while Lucan fought with the wild abandon of a man who had nothing left to lose.
Hinata, watching from the sidelines, clenched her fists, ready to intervene if needed, but she knew Padrino had to finish this fight alone. This was not just about defeating Lucan. It was about sending a message to the people of Rimuru that their leadership was not one of tyranny but of strength and resolve.
The two men circled each other, panting from the exertion of their battle. Lucan's face was twisted in rage, but beneath it was the look of a man who knew he was losing.
"You've already lost, Lucan," Padrino said, his voice steady. "You may have stirred up anger, but you'll never unite the people behind you. Rimuru is more than just you and your lies."
Lucan's eyes flared with fury. "It's not over yet!"
With a final scream of defiance, Lucan lunged at Padrino with everything he had. But this time, Padrino was ready. He sidestepped the attack and brought his sword down with precise, controlled force. The blow struck true, and Lucan crumpled to the ground, his sword clattering from his grasp.
Blood pooled beneath Lucan as he lay on the stone floor, gasping for breath. His hands twitched, trying to grasp at something that wasn't there—power, influence, the belief that he was still in control. But it was gone.
Padrino stood over him, his sword still raised, but he didn't strike again. Lucan's fight was over.
Lucan coughed, blood staining his lips as he looked up at Padrino with a bitter smile. "You think… killing me… will save Rimuru?"
Padrino sheathed his sword. "No. But it will stop you from tearing it apart."
Lucan's body convulsed one last time before he fell still, the light fading from his eyes. The hall was silent, save for the soft crackling of the torches that lined the walls.
Marko stepped forward, placing a hand on Padrino's shoulder. "It's done."
Padrino nodded but didn't take his eyes off Lucan's lifeless body. "It's never truly done, Marko. There will always be those who try to tear us apart."
"But we'll face them," Hinata said, stepping up beside him. "Just like we faced this."
Padrino sighed, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what had transpired. "I hope you're right."
In the days that followed, the rebellion slowly fizzled out. Without Lucan's leadership, his supporters lacked the coordination and drive to continue their fight. Padrino's forces, under the direction of Marko and the council, swiftly moved through the city, restoring order where they could and offering amnesty to those willing to surrender.
Lady Elara worked tirelessly with the refugees, reassuring them that they would not be abandoned and that Rimuru would continue to be a safe haven for all who sought shelter within its walls.
The northern warlords, who had been waiting for Rimuru to fall into chaos, hesitated now. Lucan's rebellion had been their best hope for weakening the city, but with his death, that opportunity slipped away.
Rimuru had survived.
But Padrino knew that this was only the beginning. The warlords still loomed to the north, and the people of Rimuru were still divided. The city's future was far from secure, but for now, the fires of rebellion had been extinguished.
As he stood on the balcony of his palace, looking out over the city, Padrino couldn't help but wonder if he had truly made the right decisions. Leadership was never easy, and the road ahead would be fraught with more difficult choices. But one thing was certain: he would continue to fight for Rimuru, no matter the cost.
The flames of rebellion had been extinguished—for now.