The gates of Coleus had been opened.
Not in surrender.
Not in welcome.
In war.
The gathered army spread across the plains outside the capital like a tide of steel and banners. Soldiers stood in disciplined ranks. Adventurers tightened their grips on swords and spears. Horses stamped restlessly. Officers shouted commands. The princes stood at the head of it all, armor fastened, weapons ready, eyes fixed on the palace they intended to reclaim.
Then the palace doors opened.
A hush spread through the army.
From the main entrance emerged Loki.
Not alone.
At his right walked Testarossa, elegant and beautiful and carrying herself with the kind of quiet confidence that made men with common sense want to flee. Behind them came Moss and Cien, and beyond them several of the newly incarnated demons, all perfectly composed, all terrifying in that calm, silent way only monsters could manage.
At Loki's side, a step and a half behind him, walked Rimuru.
Rimuru felt every eye on the battlefield land on him and nearly died on the spot.
'Why am I here?'
'No, seriously, why am I here?'
He wanted very badly to be back in the village.
Building houses.
Living a simple, low-stakes slime life.
Instead he was walking behind a Demon Lord and his demonic executive staff toward a fully assembled national army.
This was not the progression curve he had signed up for.
Loki, meanwhile, looked almost pleased.
He walked until he reached the front of the palace steps.
Then stopped.
The army opposite him stiffened.
Aslan stepped forward first, with Sauzer at his side. The princes held their ground well enough, though Loki could smell the fear on the field. Not cowardice.
They knew exactly what stood before them.
Good.
That made this more interesting.
For a few moments, nobody spoke.
Then Loki did.
"Well," he said. "You came."
Aslan's jaw tightened.
"We came for our kingdom."
Loki gave a small nod.
"Reasonable."
Sauzer's eyes narrowed.
"You took our throne."
"Yes."
"You killed our father."
Loki's expression did not change.
"Yes."
The plain went quiet again.
Even the wind seemed to hesitate.
Then Sauzer said, carefully, "We know we are not your equals."
Sauzer stood straight.
"But this land is ours."
Aslan stepped forward beside him, anger burning visibly behind his eyes.
"And if we do nothing," he said, "then we deserve to lose it."
Loki looked between the two of them.
Then at the ranks behind them.
At the soldiers holding formation despite their fear.
At the adventurers who had answered the call knowing full well they might die.
At the trembling hands that still held steady on spear shafts and sword hilts.
He exhaled softly through his nose.
"…Good."
The princes blinked.
Loki's gaze moved across the army once more.
"You came knowing what I am."
No one answered.
He continued.
"You knew this could end in a massacre."
Still no answer.
"And you marched anyway."
This time his smile deepened just a little.
"Your resolve is real."
That surprised them.
Rimuru, standing behind him, was surprised too.
'Oh?'
'That actually sounded… respectful.'
For a second, just a second, the mood shifted.
Then Loki tilted his head slightly.
And ruined it.
"So I'll acknowledge it properly."
He did not look back when he spoke the next words.
"Testarossa."
The woman at his right smiled.
"Yes, my little brother?"
"Eliminate them."
The battlefield froze.
Utterly.
Completely.
The army had not even begun its advance.
No one had raised a weapon.
No one had charged.
The order came before the first movement could even start.
Rimuru's body locked.
'…What?'
No one on the field had time to process anything more than that.
Testarossa stepped forward.
Her smile was radiant.
Cruel.
Softly delighted.
"As you wish."
Then the world changed.
A black-red throne of ruin seemed to bloom behind her, not fully visible, not fully real, but present enough that every soul on the battlefield felt it. Heat dropped. The sky dimmed. The shadows beneath every soldier's feet deepened into things they were never meant to become.
Testarossa raised one hand.
And the authority of Hell King Belial descended.
Just death.
Absolute and immediate.
The army disappeared into black-red hellfire that did not burn like ordinary fire. It consumed. Souls, flesh, armor, screaming thought, everything was swallowed at once. The soldiers did not even get a chance to break formation. The adventurers did not get a chance to draw. The princes did not get a chance to shout an order.
The battlefield was simply there one moment—
And gone the next.
The plains became a sea of hellish crimson-black light.
The sound lasted only a second.
Then even that was gone.
Only scorched land and drifting red sparks fading into nothing.
Rimuru stood perfectly still.
His face had gone pale.
'That's it?'
'That was the whole army.'
'They didn't even get to do anything.'
He looked at Testarossa.
Then very quickly looked away.
'Nope.'
'Absolutely not.'
Loki gazed out over the now-empty battlefield and gave a satisfied little hum.
"Well."
"That settles that."
---
In Sarion, the meeting room was bright, elegant, and entirely too civilized for the topic being discussed.
Elmesia sat across from Leon Cromwell with one leg crossed over the other, a cup of tea resting lightly in one hand. Leon sat opposite her, posture perfect, expression cool, eyes giving away very little.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Elmesia smiled faintly.
"So."
Leon said nothing.
Elmesia continued.
"You do know him."
Leon exhaled softly through his nose.
"Yes."
Elmesia's smile sharpened.
"Personally."
Another pause.
Then Leon nodded once.
"Yes."
That was enough for Elmesia to set her teacup down.
"You have been holding out on me."
"I have been avoiding your questions."
"That is what I said."
Leon ignored that.
Elmesia leaned back slightly.
"Then tell me."
Her tone grew lighter.
Almost playful.
"What kind of Demon Lord is Loki?"
Leon was quiet for a moment.
Long enough that Elmesia realized he was actually thinking about the answer rather than dodging it.
"That," he said at last, "is difficult."
Elmesia raised an eyebrow.
"Difficult?"
Leon nodded.
"He is powerful."
"That much is obvious."
"He is reckless."
Elmesia smiled.
"That too is obvious."
Leon's expression did not change.
"But he is not simple."
That made her pay closer attention.
Leon folded his hands loosely.
"He can act like a fool and a tyrant in the same hour."
"He can be playful, petty, violent, and strangely thoughtful."
"He does things for reasons no one else can predict."
Elmesia's eyes narrowed slightly.
"So you do not understand him either."
Leon looked at her.
"No one does."
The answer came without hesitation.
That, more than anything else, convinced her.
Leon was not the type to admit uncertainty lightly.
Elmesia tapped one finger once against the armrest.
"And his goals?"
Leon's gaze shifted briefly toward the window.
"If he has a clear one, he has not shared it."
Elmesia was silent for a moment.
Then she laughed softly.
"How troublesome."
Leon did not disagree.
Elmesia picked up her tea again.
"Then until I meet him myself…"
She took a small sip.
"…we cut ties with Coleus."
Leon inclined his head once.
"A wise decision."
Elmesia smiled over the rim of the cup.
"Do not sound so pleased. This will still become everyone's problem eventually."
Leon's expression remained flat.
"I never doubted that."
---
When consciousness returned, it did so slowly.
The prince opened his eyes to a high ceiling.
Wide hall.
Cold floor.
Silence.
For a few seconds he simply stared upward, trying to make sense of what had happened.
He remembered the march.
The army.
The speech.
The sight of Loki standing above the palace like some impossible nightmare given shape.
Then—
Fire.
Black-red.
Everything ending at once.
His body jerked.
He sat up too fast and immediately winced.
'Why am I alive?'
That was the first thought.
And it was not a comforting one.
He looked around.
A long hall stretched before him, lit by pale lamps and lined with dark pillars.
Just space.
And at the far end—
Someone sitting above him.
He looked up.
Loki stared down at him with an easy smile, one leg crossed over the other, Ragnir resting beside him.
The prince froze.
Loki tilted his head very slightly.
Then, like a man greeting a guest who had simply overslept, said—
"You are finally awake, huh."
---
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