Dominant Run!

A No-Nonsense Chief, Edelgard!

Ciel: <>

Voice of the World: <<>>

******

The Puppet Nation of Jistav was cloaked in a gloomy atmosphere as Demon Lord Clayman brooded in his dimly lit castle. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the armrest of his couch, his thoughts fixated on the recent meeting with Frey, Carrion, and Milim. The outcome had been far from what he expected, and the memory of it gnawed at him like a persistent thorn.

His carefully laid plans, which had nearly succeeded in convincing Frey and Carrion to side with him, were derailed at the last moment. The reason was all too clear to him—Milim Nava. The moment she opened her damm mouth, everything fell apart.

"Milim, that bitch!" Clayman seethed, his anger boiling over. He crushed the glass of wine in his hand and slammed his fist on the armrest. "Just you wait... once I have you under my control, you'll regret ever crossing me." A sinister grin twisted his lips as he imagined the sweet revenge he would exact on the so-called ancient Demon Lord.

Just then, the heavy door to the living room creaked open, shattering the silence. Gelmud, Clayman's loyal Majin servant, sauntered in with his usual swagger. "Hello, Lord Clayman! It's good to see you in good health," he greeted cheerfully.

"Spare me the pleasantries, Gelmud," Clayman replied, his voice tinged with irritation as he glared down at the shorter Majin. "How is the plan progressing? Any unforeseen problems that need to be dealt with?"

"None at all, my Lord," Gelmud assured him, though a flicker of unease crossed his eyes. "Everything is proceeding as planned. However, something odd did happen last night."

Clayman's gaze sharpened. "What do you mean?"

"Last night, a few hundred Ogres launched an attack on our Orc army," Gelmud explained. "Although they were defeated and lost half their men, it was strange how the attack came out of nowhere."

Clayman scoffed, leaning back on his couch. "So they lost. Then what is there to worry about? They likely caught wind of the Orc army advancing on their village and made a futile attempt to stop it. That's all there is to it."

"Indeed, Lord," Gelmud agreed. "If anything, that unexpected attack has only made our army stronger. Soon enough, we will have a new Demon Lord under our control."

Clayman nodded, satisfied. "Good. How long before the Orc army reaches the Ogre village?"

"Three days, Lord," Gelmud responded promptly.

"In that case, make sure the invasion proceeds without any setbacks," Clayman commanded, his eyes growing cold. "I've decided to invite Frey and Carrion to witness the massacre firsthand. Once they see what our army is capable of, they'll have no choice but to acknowledge the merit of my plan," he continued, his smile darkening. "And they'll also understand the consequences if I decide to turn that army against their nations."

"As you wish, Lord Clayman," Gelmud bowed and exited the castle.

As Gelmud exited the room, Clayman leaned back, his thoughts already drifting to the power he would soon wield, the pieces of his grand scheme falling into place. Milim might have thwarted him once, but he was determined that the next time they crossed paths, she would be nothing more than a puppet in his hands.

"My Lord will surely praise me once he sees the brilliance of my plan," Clayman mused, a smile creeping across his face as he raised a fresh glass of wine to his lips.

******

Back at the Tempest, Rimuru received the report about Clayman's conversation with Gelmud and he couldn't help but chuckle as he couldn't help but feel how laughably self-assured Clayman was in his plotting. "He really thinks he has everything under control," Rimuru mused aloud, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "I almost feel sad for him, but then again... not really."