The Palace of Avalon had never been so resplendent. The white marble walls reflected the soft light of energized crystals, and the main hall exhaled a fragrance of rare orchids and sea breeze—courtesy of the presence of Harribel, who, even in gala attire, maintained her bone mask and her posture of absolute readiness. Sirzechs, wearing a crimson tunic embroidered with Magisteel threads, received the guests at the top of the staircase. Beside him, Grayfia managed the protocol with a precision that intimidated even the oldest nobles.
Rimuru arrived accompanied by Fuze, the guild master of Blumund. The human was visibly pale. He had already seen the evolution of Tempest, but Avalon was something different. It was a city that seemed to have been carved by gods, not built by monsters.
— Fuze-kun, breathe — Rimuru joked, now in his elegant human form. — Sirzechs doesn't bite... unless you try to sabotage his tracks.
— Rimuru-sama... this isn't a city, it's a declaration of war against human architecture! — Fuze whispered, looking at the marble sentinels decorating the hall. — How did you manage to finance this?
— Order and efficiency, Baron Fuze — Sirzechs said, approaching with a smile that wasn't quite hostile but carried the weight of ancient authority. — Welcome to Avalon. I hope your journey on the Alabaster Express was to your liking.
During the dinner, Harribel remained silent behind Sirzechs like a living statue. When one of Fuze's nervous assistants dropped a crystal goblet, the water did not touch the floor; it stopped in mid-air and returned to the bottle at Harribel's silent command. Her control over fluids left Fuze terrified at the thought of fighting such a being. Rimuru, acting as the perfect mediator, explained to Fuze the advantages of Blumund becoming the human logistical outpost of the Alliance. With the rails connecting Dwargon, Avalon, and Tempest, Blumund could become the wealthiest trading nation in the West if it signed the free transit treaty.
Sirzechs showed Fuze the expansion maps, making it clear that Avalon would protect its partners, but that the Holy Church would have no jurisdiction over the rails.
— What you ask of me, Rimuru-sama, Sirzechs-sama... is that I place Blumund between the Church and an Empire of Monsters — Fuze said, wiping sweat from his forehead.
— No — Sirzechs corrected, his eyes glowing a deep crimson. — What we ask is for Blumund to choose the side that controls the future. The Church offers salvation in the afterlife; Avalon offers prosperity in life.
In the corner of the hall, the Tres Bestias watched the humans with disdain. Apacci nudged Mila Rose, muttering about them trembling over a piece of paper, but Sung-Sun interrupted, noting they needed someone to buy the trinkets produced by their mad scientist. By the end of the night, impacted by the vision of Harribel and Avalon's unshakable infrastructure, Fuze accepted the preliminary terms of the Alliance. Blumund would be the first human kingdom to officially recognize the Duchy of Avalon and the Tempest Federation.
The success of the Alabaster Outpost and the pact with Baron Fuze were the catalysts for the first major logistical operation of the Jura Axis. In Avalon's grand station, the movement was rhythmic and overwhelming; Geld and his Orcs loaded reinforced wagons under Grayfia's gelid gaze. The cargo consisted of refined products from Szayelaporro's labs: stain-immune fabrics, high-purity healing potions, and steel tools that never lost their edge. It was a display of technological superiority designed to flood the human market and make Blumund dependent on the Alliance.
To ensure the shipment arrived intact, Sirzechs assigned the most intimidating escort possible. Mila Rose led the guard, her raw presence and the spiritual pressure emanating from her bone mask making even the human pack horses restless. Tier Harribel observed the departure with oceanic calm, warning that while the Church might watch, any violation of the cargo would meet the fury of the sea. Mila Rose merely smiled, striking her broadsword against her chest plate before leaping onto the lead wagon.
The convoy tore through the Jura landscape at a constant speed. Near the Blumund border, mercenaries financed by Falmuth nobles tried to block the tracks with logs and runic stones. Without ordering a halt, Mila Rose launched herself from the moving train, creating a shockwave with her colossal blade that buried the saboteurs in mud before they could detonate their traps. When the Express finally entered the capital of Blumund, trade stopped. The sound of steel wheels on marble was a sound the humans had never heard: the sound of inevitability. Fuze received the sealed manifesto with trembling hands, realizing each signature was a nail in the coffin of the Church's old monopoly.
While Blumund's merchants marveled at goods that seemed sculpted by gods, Mila Rose stood still as a war statue, scanning the rooftops for Church observers. In the Alabaster Palace, Sirzechs watched the scene through a water projection maintained by Harribel. The air was cool, and the sound of a soft waterfall filled the hall.
— The poison of dependency is the sweetest, don't you think, Harribel? — Sirzechs commented, reclining on his throne. — Blumund is now tied to our rails. If the Church tries to attack us, they will be attacking the livelihood of every citizen in that city.
Harribel finally spoke, her deep voice echoing like distant thunder. — Lord Sirzechs, the despair of losing gold will make humans fierce, but the fear of the unknown will make them stupid. They will come to test the depth of my waters, and I guarantee none shall return to the surface.
Sirzechs smiled, feeling that the peace bought with gold was merely the preface. He now needed someone who could look into the void of the human soul and manage it with gelid indifference. The marble at his feet darkened, and an emerald-green rift opened in the void between the pillars, announcing that Avalon was about to receive its most implacable administrator.