The air had shifted.
The very walls of the Walpurgis trembled with unspoken tension, not from magic—but from the presence of one man. Yujiro Hanma had sat down, not on any throne… but even the thrones themselves seemed to lean toward him, as if the world knew who its apex was.
And now all eyes turned to Clayman.
Or rather, to what was left of him.
Clayman was still frozen. Paralyzed completely. Muscles locked. Eyes wide in terror. No magic, no regeneration, no curse could undo what Yujiro had done with one blow.
A strike so precise… that even Raphael had no clue how it worked.
"Master,"
Raphael whispered with a sense of anxious reverence,
"His technique bypassed magic systems entirely. He attacked the bio-neural signals directly through kinetic force—"
"English, please…" Rimuru thought back nervously.
"I… I cannot calculate this level of control."
Even Raphael was scared.
"Oi, Guy…" Dino, still recovering, muttered from his now slouched position—trying to massage life back into his limbs.
"We sure this meeting was a good idea…?"
Guy Crimson, still leaning forward slightly in his chair, crimson eyes glowing faintly, replied without looking.
"Oh it was. This just made things very clear."
Luminous, now seated properly and no longer behind Louis, whispered in a barely audible tone:
"How can someone like that exist without divinity? Without skills? He humiliated me last time… and now he's even stronger."
Leon glanced at her, then toward Rimuru, then Yujiro. His thoughts were sharp and calculating.
"If Rimuru passed Yujiro's test… then maybe… just maybe, he's worth keeping alive."
Draguel, silent, watched Yujiro with a tensed jaw. The tap on the shoulder had meant something. Yujiro saw worth in him, something deeper. That unspoken respect. But it made his spine tighten nonetheless.
"I'm not ready to face him again…"
Then… like a rusted machine trying to reboot, Clayman's lips twitched.
"P-Please… wait…"
Everyone turned toward him.
He was finally regaining minor control, his voice wheezing like someone clawing their way out of the grave.
"It… it wasn't me, I… I didn't mean—"
SMACK.
A sudden gust of pressure swept the room as Milim stood up.
"That's enough."
Her eyes were no longer playful.
"I played along with your little act, Clayman. I let you pretend. But I'm done pretending."
Her voice cracked like thunder across the hall.
Ramiris, still half-hidden behind Guy, squeaked.
"Milim's done playing?? Oh no… this might be worse than Yujiro…"
Milim walked past the long round table and stood in front of Clayman, her power flaring now—raw and untamed. But she didn't attack. She simply looked down at him.
"You used me. You thought you could leash me like some beast."
She gritted her teeth.
"You lied, manipulated, and attacked my friends."
Her eyes slowly drifted toward Rimuru—then back to Clayman.
"You forgot something important, Clayman… I'm a Demon Lord not because someone gave me the title—"
"—I earned it."
Rimuru's eyes locked with hers.
There was a fire in Milim that he hadn't seen since they sparred in Tempest.
But it wasn't rage.
It was justice.
Suddenly, Diablo stepped forward, his eyes shimmering with violet intensity. He looked at Rimuru.
"May I, my Lord?"
Rimuru paused.
He looked at Clayman—broken, shaking, barely conscious.
He thought about everything: the framing of Tempest, Falmuth attack, the puppet strings pulled behind the scenes.
"Do it."
And Diablo bowed deeply.
"As you wish."
In one step, he was beside Milim, who silently moved aside.
Then, with no announcement, Diablo raised his hand, and a black flame began to swirl in his palm.
Clayman's eyes widened in horror.
"W-Wait! Please! I surrender! I—"
FOOM.
The black flame erupted—not burning Clayman's flesh, but his existence.
He screamed, but there was no sound.
No echo.
No trace.
Just… nothing.
He was erased.
Not even ashes remained.
Silence.
Even the most ancient demons said nothing.
Guy Crimson finally leaned back in his chair.
"Well…"
He clapped his hands once.
"That was entertaining."
Rain stood by his side, arms crossed, but a smirk on her lips.
Misery bowed and cleared her throat.
"Let the Walpurgis continue."
Yujiro, sitting back with one leg resting over the other, cracked his neck and said nothing.
But his smirk lingered.
Smoke curled silently where Clayman had once existed—erased from the world, not just defeated, but erased. A quiet hum lingered in the air, like a storm had passed and left behind the taste of ozone and fear.
The room was dead silent.
And then… clap… clap… clap…
Guy Crimson slowly stood, the sound of his applause echoing like thunder in a cathedral of giants.
"Well, Rimuru…"
He stared at the slime with a predatory grin that somehow didn't hide the respect in his eyes.
"You just eliminated a Demon Lord."
His tone was calm… but his next words hit like a decree.
"You'll be taking his seat."
It wasn't a request.
It wasn't even a question.
It was a verdict.
Rimuru blinked, the tension rising again—before he smirked and nodded with cool confidence. He looked around the table at all the faces: Milim, Guy, Leon, Luminous, Ramiris, Draguel, and the others.
"That was my plan all along," Rimuru said clearly.
"I already am a Demon Lord… this just confirms it."
Boom.
It was like a pressure wave lifted off the room. Even Guy chuckled, his grin widening as he clapped again.
"Then… welcome to the Demon Lord Council."
But then…
Yujiro Hanma stood.
And the world fell silent.
No footsteps.
No sound.
Just raw pressure.
The very air changed. Every candle flickered, shadows lengthened, and even magic itself seemed to shrink in his presence. Yujiro had been silent all this time, like a lion watching cubs play—until now.
Every head turned to him.
Every Demon Lord held their breath.
What would he say?
Then he spoke.
His voice wasn't loud, but it didn't need to be.
It was absolute.
"Demon Lords…"
"You are the strongest this world had to offer… so far."
A pause. That smirk still carved into his face like it had been born there.
"But despite all that strength… you rely on magic. On skills. On borrowed power you didn't earn."
"You've seen it. True strength, I've shown you."
His arms were still in his pockets, like he couldn't even be bothered to look tense.
"True strength… isn't something you cast. It's something you are."
"And yet… you still cling to your illusions."
The air crackled. Not with magic—but presence. That primal pressure. That suffocating weight.
Even Leon, confident and sharp, found himself gripping the armrest of his chair.
"A day will come," Yujiro continued, slowly walking toward the table, eyes drifting from face to face like he was reading open books,
"when you will lose your magic. Your skills. Everything that made others fear you."
"And when that day comes… you will be tested."
Guy Crimson narrowed his eyes. He had faced Yujiro before—and lost. But this… this felt different.
"Are you saying you'll be the one to test us?"
Every Demon Lord tensed.
Ramiris shrieked quietly and ducked behind her chair.
Even Draguel's muscles twitched—ready, reactive.
Yujiro stopped, standing across from Guy, calm… confident… terrifying.
"I don't need to kill you to prove I'm the strongest."
He took one step forward.
"You can have all the magic in existence. All the skills, all the divine blessings—"
"And you will still never defeat me."
A deathly silence followed.
Guy clenched his jaw but said nothing.
Because he knew.
He had fought Yujiro. He knew.
This wasn't a threat.
This was truth.
Yujiro turned slightly, sweeping his gaze across the room.
"I don't care for titles. I don't care for kingdoms."
"Play your little games—call yourselves Demon Lords, kings, gods…"
"But you all know—you feel it—what I am."
His eyes flared, not with magic… but with something far older.
"If I wanted to kill you, I'd have done it already."
"And there is no magic—none—that could stop me."
He paused.
Then spoke again—his voice low, and now solemn.
"I see what each of you stand for. Power. Control. Dominance. Balance."
"But one day… all of you will face your Judgment."
"And none of you—none of you—are beyond it."
A stillness swept the room.
Then Draguel, arms crossed, eyes sharp, spoke.
"Then what about you, Yujiro?"
"Have you already faced your judgment?"
Yujiro slowly turned his head.
And his face changed.
No smirk. No arrogance.
Only absolute truth.
"I cannot be judged, Draguel."
"Because I am the Judgment."
"I am the truth beyond your strength. Beyond your magic. Beyond your gods."
"I am the place none of you can reach."
The words struck like thunder across the cosmos.
And no one—no one—spoke.
The silence lingered.
Luminous was pale, clutching her armrest.
Leon was thinking, calculating, his fingers tapping slowly.
Rimuru was frozen, his mind racing, even Raphael had gone silent.
Milim looked down—silent—for once.
Ramiris looked ready to cry.
Then finally, Guy Crimson broke the silence.
"So… all of this…"
"Are you saying there's a threat coming?"
"A real one?"
Yujiro smiled.
That same devil's grin.
He didn't answer with words.
He just… turned.
And walked away.
His boots echoed across the stone floor.
Each step somehow heavier than the last.
And then—just like that—he was gone.
No portal. No magic. No light.
Just… gone.
Leaving behind a room full of the most powerful beings in the world… in silence.
Each one, now questioning everything they thought they knew about strength.