The Labyrinth gates opened with a thundering hum, shaking the ground of Tempest. A thick wave of pressure rolled out like a storm about to collapse the sky. Rimuru, Veldora, Diablo, Velzard, Guy, Rain, Misery, and the Tempest generals emerged, one by one. But they were no longer the same.
Their clothes were torn, stained with dried blood and sweat. Their skin glowed faintly from the constant, brutal conditioning. But most noticeable—their eyes. No longer playful, smug, or naïve. Their gazes were like sharpened blades—quiet, calm, but deadly.
The first to speak was Rimuru, his voice low and serious.
"That... was hell."
Veldora, for once, didn't make a joke. He simply nodded, his golden hair fluttering behind him. His usual dramatic flair was gone, replaced with a stoic demeanor that unsettled even Diablo.
Velzard looked at her own hands, clenching and unclenching her fist.
"I thought I understood strength... but I didn't. Not even close."
Guy Crimson, brushing his bloodied crimson cape, grinned darkly.
"Yujiro showed us what it means to exist beyond skill. Beyond magic. It was survival. It was raw, savage existence."
Rain and Misery stood still behind him, no longer the composed, delicate maids they used to be. Rain's gloves were singed. Misery's once flawless dress was now battle-worn. They had changed. Whatever elegance they used to carry was now blended with primal force. Even their magic flared differently—less arcane, more instinctual.
Inside the town of Tempest, the citizens watched in awe as their protectors walked through the streets. The aura they gave off... wasn't magical. It was like standing next to mountains made of pressure.
Benimaru, his flames now condensed, silent and still until released—had mastered breathing without relying on energy.
Shion, no longer just a brute, moved like water now—her punches calculated, precise.
Souei, faster than ever, could now detect magicule fluctuations without using his skills. His senses had evolved to animalistic levels.
Geld had trained his body to absorb and deflect force without relying on his regeneration.
Hakuro, the oldest and most refined, had rediscovered martial arts on a level even he didn't know existed.
Goramu, the stone giant, had learned to move with the stillness of earth but strike like thunder—his presence now carried the weight of mountains.
Even Diablo, who once prided himself on his overwhelming demonic magic, looked inward. His magic was still terrifying—but now, he could fight toe-to-toe without it. And he did it with joy.
"To think I once believed spells were superior," he whispered to himself. "Lord Yujiro... opened my eyes."
They had all been transformed—not through evolution or divine skills, but through pain, fear, and raw instinctual battle.
In Rimuru's palace, the leaders sat silently in the war chamber. A large table filled with food sat untouched.
"We can feel it now," Rimuru said, tapping his chest. "The truth... We were sheltered. Spoiled by magic. But in that Labyrinth... it was stripped away."
Veldora added, "I screamed in there. Cried even. I faced myself. I bled... and for the first time, I felt like I deserved the title of Dragon."
Guy nodded, folding his arms.
"The power we had wasn't real. It was handed to us. But now... now it's earned."
Velzard crossed her legs, eyes serious.
"Yujiro... he isn't a being we can compare ourselves to. He's Primordial Dominance because his existence is the truth. He made us see that."
Rain and Misery sat together, quietly sipping tea. They didn't speak. They didn't have to. Their very presence was heavy.
As night fell, Milim stood at the gates of the Labyrinth.
Yujiro, arms crossed, leaned on the stone wall beside her.
"You ready, brat?" he asked, smirking.
Milim cracked her knuckles.
"Tch. I was born ready. Took long enough."
Yujiro pushed open the door.
"Your training won't be like the others. You've got Veldanava's blood. Inside you is a beast even you don't understand. I'm not going to teach you how to use power... I'm going to teach you how to become it."
Milim grinned wide, her eyes burning with excitement.
"Let's go, old man."
Inside the Labyrinth, the light vanished. There was no magic allowed. No flight. No aura. Just Milim, barefoot, standing on solid, cracked earth.
Suddenly, a hundred shadow beasts erupted from the ground—manifestations of her own rage, loss, loneliness, and insecurity.
Yujiro's voice echoed.
"Face them. Not with your strength—but with your heart."
Milim fought. She screamed. She bled. Day after day, monster after monster, she fought the demons inside herself.
The pain wasn't physical. It was emotional. Memories of her father. Memories of losing friends. Her childish demeanor breaking... her resolve being forged anew.
By the third week, her pink hair was messy, her eyes sharp.
By the fourth week, her punches broke the sky.
By the sixth week, her aura of destruction returned—only now, it wasn't wild. It was controlled. A terrifying calm.
Yujiro watched silently as Milim knelt before a black stone altar, a dragon symbol glowing behind her.
"What you've awakened... isn't new," he said. "It was always inside. Veldanava's will. But now... you've earned it."
Milim stood up slowly. She looked different. Her hair had subtle streaks of silver. Her eyes were colder. Sharper. Her pressure was immense, yet composed.
"I'm not a kid anymore," she said.
Yujiro chuckled.
"You never were. You were just lost in power. But now—you're found in purpose."
In the quiet stillness of night, inside the Free Guild Headquarters, Yuuki Kagurazaka sat alone in his private office, a triumphant grin stretching across his face. Blueprints, scrolls, and tomes of ancient magic were scattered around the desk like trophies. A glass of wine rested untouched as he gazed at the shimmering orb floating above his hand—the spell. The one he'd spent months perfecting. The one that could slow Yujiro down and manipulate the Demon Lords like puppets.
"Finally," Yuuki whispered to himself, eyes glowing with ambition. "With this… the world is mine."
Kigali had his doubts. Laplace still joked to hide his fear. Footman and Tear were uneasy. But Yuuki believed. He had cracked the formula. He had woven divine scripts with demonic code. He thought himself unstoppable.
But in the shadows... he was already owned.
Suddenly, the temperature in the room dropped. The glass on his desk cracked. The lights flickered.
Yuuki stood up quickly, his eyes narrowing.
"...What the hell?"
Before he could reach for a defense spell, a golden prism of light descended from the ceiling like a spear. It stabbed the air with divine force, forming a celestial cage that froze time and space inside the office. Yuuki's body was paralyzed—his limbs stiff, his mouth locked shut.
"Wha...?" he tried to scream, but his voice was silent.
The walls bent, twisted like reality was breaking. And then came the light—pure, blinding, and cold.
Yuuki's pupils dilated. He felt something enter him—not just his body, but his mind, his soul, his every thought.
It was like a hundred needles driving into his spirit at once. His breathing stopped. His thoughts slowed. And as he began to scream in his head, it happened—
The spell activated.
"Now," a voice echoed from beyond the walls of reality, Feldway's voice, cold, precise, and full of dark glee.
"Let us begin."
Yuuki's eyes went wide... then rolled back.
He collapsed in his chair, twitching once... then stilled.
Far away in a hidden sanctuary within the Celestial Domain, Feldway stood atop a black floating platform surrounded by radiant energy pillars and arcane glyphs written in ancient Angelic language.
Standing beside him were Zalario, the cold general of heaven's might, and Obera, his elegant yet terrifying watcher.
On a massive magic screen, Yuuki could be seen slumped in his chair, glowing faintly.
Feldway burst into laughter, loud and demonic.
"HAHAHAHA! Did he really think he could play god? Now he serves the divine—my divine."
Obera smiled calmly. "His resistance was... pitiful."
Zalario crossed his arms. "You've enslaved one of the most dangerous humans on the planet. What's next?"
Feldway turned, eyes burning.
"The spell he built was clever... but now it is mine. We will use it, reshape it, amplify it with Celestial Core energy. We will infect the Demon Lords... one by one."
Zalario's expression sharpened. "And Yujiro?"
Feldway's eyes narrowed. "He's... complicated. We cannot control him. But we can delay him."
"How?" Obera asked, stepping closer, wings twitching.
Feldway raised a hand—and the celestial sky above them shifted. Angels. Seraphs.
Archangels. Thousands. Millions. All glowing with divine radiance, ready for war.
"We use a diversion. While the Demon Lords scatter to protect their lands from my Angelic Legions... we strike."