(Attendance… plz…)
….
Instantly, a dozen gazes shot past May, locking onto Rimuru like targeting lasers.
"There are only thirteen seats at the table. They certainly won't agree to let you sit in mine."
As she spoke, May's posture changed. She lifted her chin, her playful demeanor vanishing instantly. Her eyes grew cold, her expression regal. She wasn't Rimuru's friend right now; she was the Matriarch of the Archelot family.
Gulp.
Rimuru swallowed hard. The sheer pressure radiating from her, and the room, made his spine straighten reflexively.
He looked into the hall.
It was a grand chamber dominated by a circular table. At the head sat an empty throne-like chair, reserved for the Director. Surrounding it were twelve seats. Eleven were occupied.
Only the seventh seat was empty. Above the red velvet cushion, motes of light danced, spelling out an illustrious surname:
[Archelot]
"You are late, Archelot."
The voice cut through the silence like a whip.
It came from the young woman sitting stiffly to the right of the Director's empty throne. Her tone was devoid of emotion, carrying an undeniable weight of authority.
Rimuru stole a glance at her.
High ponytail. Sharp, sword-like eyebrows. Cold, symmetrical features that screamed "perfection."
The image overlapped perfectly with the descriptions in his memory.
Lorelei Barthomeloi. The Queen of the Clock Tower.
She looks exactly as difficult to deal with as the rumors say...
Rimuru's old habits kicked in. His past life's elite education and corporate training took over, instantly analyzing her character profile, potential for alliance, and weaknesses.
Elite mindset. Typical 'Iron Lady' style. Rigid.
Verdict: Extremely difficult.
She was the embodiment of Aristocracy. Her philosophy was likely "The Barthomeloi are supreme, and everyone else is dirt."
Dealing with someone like that was a nightmare. It was like a peasant trying to befriend a king who believed in the divine right of rule, the discrimination wasn't personal; it was baked into their DNA. It wasn't just hard; it was structurally impossible.
Deciding to mentally shelve the terrifying Vice-Director for now, Rimuru followed May into the room, scanning the other faces.
"If I arrived early, we'd all just be sitting around staring at each other, wouldn't we?"
May didn't flinch. She was clearly used to Lorelei's attitude. She offered a soft, indifferent retort and walked to her seat, exchanging polite nods with the few Lords who acknowledged her.
Rimuru observed the room.
A meeting of the Lords involved complex webs of profit, factions, and politics. Because of this, even if two Lords were best friends in private, they had to maintain a poker face here. Everyone was desperately trying to project an air of "Absolute Neutrality."
It reminded Rimuru of internet comment sections where people start their arguments with, "I'm just a neutral passerby, I don't support either side, but..."
It was fake, but it was necessary.
This meant that even if May had arrived early, no one would have chatted with her. They would have just sat there, making awkward eye contact or pretending to meditate.
So, really, she hadn't missed anything.
Take, for instance, the old fox sitting in the second seat: Lord McDonell Trambelio Elrod.
To the untrained eye, he appeared to be dozing off, a harmless, senile old man on the verge of twilight. But if you knew the truth, you knew that this "sleeping" elder was one of the most immovable pillars of the Clock Tower.
His most terrifying trait wasn't just his political acumen, but his sheer biological vitality. Despite his advanced age, the man had an army of wives and over a dozen daughters. His capacity for generating magical energy, and his general stamina, was rumored to be monstrous.
In other words... the old man was a durability tank with a terrifying recovery rate.
As May Riddell lifted the hem of her dress and took her seat with the grace of a haughty princess, Rimuru's gaze drifted past her.
His eyes collided with the smile of the final member of the Three Great Aristocratic Families.
In an instant, Rimuru's heart tightened. There was no relief in that smile. Only pressure.
Inorai Valualeta Atroholm. The Lord of the Department of Creation.
She was the teacher of Aozaki Touko. And she was also the one who had personally, and strongly, demanded that her own beloved student receive a Sealing Designation.
If Rimuru had to list the people he absolutely did not want to provoke, this elderly woman, the leader of the Democratic Faction, would top the list.
It wasn't about factionalism. Rimuru could deal with the Aristocratic supremacy of the Barthomeloi, or the cunning schemes of the old fox Trambelio. In his previous life, he had learned how to handle people like them.
Greed, arrogance, ambition, these were human traits. Where there was desire, there was a weakness. There was room for negotiation, manipulation, or even sycophancy.
But Inorai was different.
She was a being of absolute, unshakeable self. She could not be interfered with. She could not be swayed by emotion. She was an ideal made flesh, perfect, cold, and god-like.
She looked like a kind, gentle grandmother who enjoyed tea and the color green. She never raised her voice. She never got angry.
But deep down? She was a monster who would sacrifice her favorite disciple without a flicker of hesitation, simply because issuing a Sealing Designation was the "Correct" action to take.
To her, engaging in ruthless politics was as natural as breathing. Unraveling the mysteries of magecraft was as casual as a morning stroll. She did what she deemed logical, completely unburdened by the opinions or feelings of others.
Her essence was something that even Touko eventually found terrifying. To Rimuru, a mind that lacked hesitation or internal conflict could hardly be called "human" anymore.
It was an uncontainable force of nature.
So, when the seventy-year-old woman offered him a warm, accepting smile, Rimuru didn't feel welcomed. He felt the primal terror of a prey animal being spotted by a prehistoric beast.
It was the look a scientist gives to a particularly interesting specimen before the dissection begins.
Deep breath.
Rimuru forced himself to remain calm. He politely averted his gaze, shifting his attention to the fourth seat.
There, leaning casually against the armrest, Kayneth Archibald El-Melloi was watching him, chin resting in his hand.
Seeing Rimuru look his way, Kayneth offered a nod, a smile that was neither too close nor too distant. A perfect, political acknowledgement.
At that moment, a shadow moved at the head of the table.
Unpretentious darkness condensed on the Director's empty throne, solidifying into a silhouette of pure black night.
The Director's familiar had arrived. The meeting had officially begun.
The agenda was straightforward: The allocation of the new intake of students, the distribution of resources between the noble families...
And, of course, the assassination attempt on Rimuru Tempest.
Rimuru stood silently behind May Riddell's chair. His face was a mask of indifference, but his mind was racing, coldly observing the sharks circling the table.
He watched them argue and debate, trying to discern the truth through the political fog.
Which faction pulled the trigger? And which faction is using the bullet hole in my head as an excuse to attack their rivals?
….
Meanwhile, Somewhere else.
A young woman dragged a suitcase through the streets of Tokyo.
She wore a long blue dress, and her silky hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall. Her presence was magnetic; several young men who had just stepped off the subway hesitated, glancing at each other, debating whether they should approach her and ask for her number.
Suddenly, the young woman stopped. She tilted her head, looking up at the sky.
A blue bird was circling above.
"A Robin?"
"Is that you, Alice?"
Aozaki Aoko tilted her head slightly. She raised a slender, elegant hand.
Snap.
A crisp finger snap echoed in the air.
The young men who had been sneaking glances at her froze. A dazed expression washed over their faces as a fog settled in their minds.
Wait... what are we doing here again?
By the time they shook off the confusion, the spot where the girl had been standing was empty. The girl and her suitcase had vanished into thin air.
….
2 more to go…
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