The silence that followed the demonstration of Sirzechs' Aura of Destruction was cut by a sharp, vibrant laugh. Milim Nava, who until then had maintained a vacant stare under Clayman's supposed dominion, leapt backward, landing with feline grace. Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of shock and pure excitement.
— Wahahaha! What was that?! — Milim exclaimed, pointing at Sirzechs with childlike curiosity, completely ignoring Clayman's hysterical screams. — Hey, Rimuru! Where did you find this crimson guy? I've never felt anything like it! He's like a black hole that eats everything!
Sirzechs observed the girl with an arched eyebrow. He recognized in her the lineage of the Star King Dragon, a chaotic force that contrasted with his own order.
— Milim! You... you weren't controlled? — Rimuru asked, perplexed.
— Controlled by this weakling? — Milim mocked, casting a look of contempt at Clayman. — I was just bored! But then this Sirzechs fellow showed up and nearly erased the entire hall. I had to stop pretending, or my "disguise" would have turned to dust along with the floor!
Clayman felt the world collapse. His hands trembled as he tried in vain to activate the Orbe of Domination. But the game was over. Sirzechs stepped forward, the sound of his boots on the remaining marble silencing the room. Grayfia and Valerius closed ranks behind him. Sirzechs' gaze fell upon Clayman, not with hatred, but with the indifference of one observing a noisy insect.
— Your strings have been cut, puppeteer — Sirzechs said, his voice gelid. — You tried to use a force you do not comprehend to build an empire of lies. In Avalon, the punishment for those who disturb the order is oblivion. Rimuru-kun, I believe you have a personal account to settle.
Rimuru, feeling his confidence renewed by his ally's presence, walked toward the center. Clayman's execution followed with absolute finality. Under the watchful eyes of the Demon Lords, Rimuru utilized [Beelzebuth], consuming every fragment of Clayman's existence. There were no cries for mercy that could save him; he was simply erased from history.
When the last spark of Clayman's soul vanished, Milim ran to Sirzechs, stopping just inches away, immediately barred by Grayfia's warning glare.
— Hey, hey! You're strong, aren't you? — Milim smiled, hands on her hips. — I'm Milim Nava! If you're not a Demon Lord, what are you? A new type of marble monster?
Sirzechs smiled slightly, the aura of destruction now completely withdrawn.
— I am merely a sovereign who values peace and aesthetics, Milim Nava. And this is my Duchy, Avalon.
Guy Crimson, watching the scene from his throne, gave the final verdict. The show was over. Clayman was an error, and Rimuru and Sirzechs were the new reality. The Walpurgis concluded with the birth of the Octagram, but for everyone present, the image that would remain etched in memory was not just the slime who became a god, but the crimson sovereign and his ice queen, who proved that absolute power needs no titles to dominate the world.
The sound of Sirzechs' boots echoing through the white marble corridor of the capital was the only sign that the sovereign was back. Grayfia walked a step behind, her imperturbable expression revealing nothing of the weight of the clash of wills they had just won. Valerius, with his characteristic silent efficiency, had already signaled to the servants that the crystal petal tea should be served immediately in the private study.
Avalon did not need official announcements to know its lord had triumphed. The glow of Sirzechs' crimson aura was felt by every inhabitant of the city. In the streets, celebration began organically. Benedict, the master baker, wasted no time; he ordered his ovens to work at maximum capacity, producing delicacies to be distributed freely in the central squares. For him, Sirzechs' return was the moment to strengthen bonds of loyalty through comfort and abundance.
In the center of the square, the Musician plucked his magicule harp. The notes were vibrations that calmed the nerves of humans and strengthened the spirits of monsters. The music narrated the rise of a new order where the marble would never be stained. Meanwhile, at the city's edge, Marshal Dietrich supervised the arrival of new ore shipments, ensuring the logistics of the celebration did not interrupt Avalon's industrial progress.
Sirzechs sat in his armchair, watching the city through the large panoramic window. Grayfia served the tea as Ulquiorra's hologram manifested silently in the center of the room.
— The census report indicates an immediate increase in the population's faith, my Lord — Ulquiorra informed, his emerald eyes fixed on the data. — The Falmuth massacre and your demonstration at Walpurgis have created an authority vacuum in the human world. Now, they look to Avalon not with fear, but as the only safe refuge against the chaos that the Demon Lords represent.
— It is exactly what I intended — Sirzechs replied, feeling the warmth of the cup in his hands. — They must understand that the Alabaster Order is absolute. But this peace will bring new challenges. Guy Crimson now watches us with interest, and the Western Nations are terrified.
The celebration would end at dawn. Sirzechs knew the board of the world was moving. The shadow of the Eastern Empire and the remnants of the Holy Church would not accept the loss of Farmenas without a response.
The salty ocean breeze began to mix with the purified forest air as the Avalon expedition reached the limits of the southwest coast. Sirzechs observed the horizon where the deep blue of the sea met the limestone cliffs. This was the site chosen for the birth of Alabaster Port, the maritime gateway that would connect the empire to distant nations and the intercontinental trade that the Church sought to monopolize.
The terrain, however, was untamable. Violent currents and submerged rocks made navigation impossible for any ordinary fleet. Sirzechs did not intend to use ordinary methods. He signaled to Tier Harribel, who approached the cliff's edge. With a fluid movement of her sword, she commanded the waters. The agitated sea bowed to her will, receding to reveal the rocky bed where the marble foundations would be set.
— The foundation is exposed, my Lord — Harribel declared, as the waters remained suspended like liquid walls under her command.
But the creation of a port of this magnitude required a brute force of attrition to shape the cliffs and clear the way for Szayelaporro's technological shipyards. At that moment, the air around Sirzechs began to vibrate with an aggressive, wild, and electric energy. Through the power of the [Visionary], Sirzechs manifested the final piece needed for coastal security and expansion.
From the crimson vacuum emerged a figure that exhaled an almost uncontrollable murderous intent. Spiky blue hair, a bone jaw on the right side of his face, and eyes that glowed with the instinct of an elite predator.
«Notice. Creation of Combat and Frontier Unit complete.» «Naming: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.» «Title: The Admiral of Destruction / The Sixth Sword.»
Grimmjow did not wait for formal orders. He looked at the ocean held back by Harribel and then at Sirzechs, flashing a predatory grin that showed his canine teeth.
— So this is the new world? — Grimmjow cracked his neck, ignoring the etiquette Grayfia prized so highly. — Looks a bit too calm for my taste. Who do I have to crush first?
— For now, Grimmjow, your fury will serve the construction — Sirzechs replied with sovereign calm. — Use your Gran Rey Cero to carve the entry channels. I want Alabaster Port to be accessible to us and impenetrable to our enemies.
Grimmjow let out a loud laugh. He leapt toward the cliffs and, in a movement of pure brutality, released a blast of blue energy that shattered the ancient limestone, molding the port with the violence of a cataclysm. Dietrich and his High-Orcs immediately followed Grimmjow's trail of destruction, laying runic marble before the dust had even settled.
As Grimmjow became the fierce guardian of the coast, Szayelaporro began to install the first electromagnetic cranes. Alabaster Port would not just be a pier; it would be a naval fortress. Grimmjow's presence ensured that any fleet from the Church or the Eastern Empire that dared to approach without permission would be reduced to wreckage before even sighting the city lights. Avalon now had an arm in the sea, and that arm possessed blue claws ready to tear through anyone who tried to block Alabaster's destiny.