The ogre village trembled beneath the thunder of a million marching feet.
Dust and magic swirled through the air as the horizon darkened, filled with the guttural roars of orcs. Their endless tide stretched beyond sight—a living flood of pale flesh and steel.
From the barricades, the Ogre Chief watched grimly. His scouts' reports were clear—their enemies numbered well over a million. It was annihilation made manifest.
He clenched his fists. "So this is the end of the Ogres…"
Around him, warriors prepared for what would likely be their last stand. Mothers and children were ushered into hidden tunnels, while smiths reforged weapons that would soon break. Despair hung thick in the air—until suddenly, the forest itself went silent.
A wave of power swept across the land.
Every monster—from the smallest goblin to the fiercest wyvern—froze. The air crackled, humming with divine pressure.
It was not mere aura. It was Authority.
The aura of the Lord of Monsters.
Ogres were proud beings, bound by instinct and honor, yet even they found themselves bowing. The orcs fell to their knees mid-march, trembling beneath the weight of that presence.
It came from afar—distant but overwhelming.
The Chief's eyes widened. "A true Lord…?"
Though faint, it was enough. A sliver of hope pierced the gloom.
He turned to his son—the red-haired warrior who had inherited both his pride and his fire.
"Go," he ordered. "Take a few of our best. Find the one behind that power—the Lord of Monsters. Offer servitude in exchange for safety. If not…" He paused, voice softening. "Live. Carry our blood forward."
The young ogre's eyes hardened. "I understand, Father."
And so, five of them departed under cover of night—unaware that unseen eyes followed their every move.
The orc army was never meant to move as one. Their coordination betrayed outside influence—a will pulling the strings. Something had changed in the forest. A new monster had appeared weeks ago, and its mere existence had driven all others into fear, even the orcs whose intelligence was already fading under their chief's unique skill.
That monster, of course, was Lucian.
---
A little farther from Rimuru's village, chaos of a very different sort unfolded.
"Ready?" Lucian asked, his grin downright feral.
Rimuru's eyes glimmered with mischief. "You're going to regret that question."
Lucian fired an Eclipse Beam, condensed and amplified through the Unique Skill: Amplifier he'd obtained from Rias. Rimuru devoured the beam with Predator, twisted it through her own magicule matrix, and launched it right back.
Lucian caught the returning blast with a smirk, using Predator again to swallow it whole, compressing it tighter, brighter, deadlier—before firing it back at twice the force.
Then Rimuru decided to multiply it.
Using Degenerate's Separation, she fragmented the beam into hundreds of miniature projectiles, each no larger than a grain of rice—yet each carrying enough force to level a small city.
The air turned into a battlefield of miniature suns.
They ricocheted across the clearing, exploding in bursts of blinding light, shaking trees and shattering the ground. The earth cracked open beneath their duel, glowing with molten mana.
"Fireworks are ready," Lucian yelled over the explosions. "New festival idea!"
"Yup!" Rimuru shouted back. "As soon as I figure out how not to destroy the planet!"
They both laughed like maniacs—gods playing with dynamite.
Thankfully, the ogres arrived just before they escalated to planetary-destruction levels.
---
"Oh great Lord of Monsters," the red-haired ogre said, stepping forward and bowing deeply, "we, the ogres of the Ogre Tribe, come to seek your protection."
Behind him stood an old white-haired ogre, a dark blue-haired assassin-like warrior, a petite pink-haired girl, and a statuesque purple-haired woman with a single white horn and a frankly unfair figure.
Lucian blinked. "Weren't there supposed to be six of you…?" he thought to himself. "Butterfly effects again, huh?"
As the ogres explained their plight—a million orcs descending upon their village—the pieces clicked into place.
Lucian nodded. "All right. We'll help you. In return, you'll join Rimuru's cause and build a monster nation."
Rimuru, who had been nodding up to that point, suddenly froze. "Wait—WHAT? When did I agree to start a nation?!"
Lucian smirked. "Just now."
"Why does no one ever tell me these things…" she mumbled.
The red-haired ogre straightened. "If Lady Rimuru is your trusted companion, we have no doubts. A nation for monsters… it is a noble goal."
They already trusted Lucian instinctively—his form, his aura, everything about him resonated with their instincts. To them, he wasn't merely an ogre. He was something above—an Oni, perhaps the apex their kind had always dreamed of becoming.
"Then let's begin," Lucian said, his tone shifting into command. "I'll name you all. After that, we move."
He raised a hand, Abhoth's power pulsing through him, merging with the Essence of Typhon. The air shimmered as he spoke each name:
"Benimaru."
"Souei."
"Hakurou."
"Shion."
"Shuna."
Light erupted. Magicules spiraled upward like a storm of stars, and the five ogres were engulfed in radiance.
Lucian poured magicule energy into the process—not only from the forest but from his own Predator Stomach, amplifying the effect beyond anything this world had seen. The result wasn't ordinary Kijin Evolution.
It was something greater.
Benimaru's body ignited with Solar Element, his hair blazing crimson like dawn.
Shion's power mirrored him in Lunar Energy, her aura glowing silver.
Hakurou's eyes turned pale gold—the gift of a diluted All Seeing Seer, now the Unraveling Eye.
Souei's shadow split and multiplied, cloaked in Dream Element, his movements blurring through dimensions.
Shuna's hands glowed with Sage's Boost, a weaker fusion of Amplifier and Great Sage, amplifying her magical output tenfold.
When the light dimmed, five newly awakened beings knelt before him, power radiating like heat from their forms.
"We swear our loyalty," Benimaru said solemnly. "Until our tribe is avenged and your will fulfilled."
Lucian nodded once. "Then let's go."
---
The battlefield was hell.
The Ogre Village burned under the endless tide of orcs. The sound of metal, roars, and dying cries blended into a single monstrous chorus.
And then, suddenly, everything stopped.
Lucian had arrived.
He unleashed his aura like a tidal wave. The sheer weight of his presence froze the combatants mid-strike. Orc teeth hovered inches from ogre throats. Even the winds halted.
The battlefield descended into eerie silence.
"Rimuru," Lucian said calmly, his voice carrying through the entire forest. "Eat the Orc Disaster. Shuna, Shion—assist her. Hakurou, go to your chief and explain everything. Benimaru, I'm sending you to the Majin controlling this madness. Handle him. Souei—intel, comms, rescue operations. Move."
The moment he finished, reality bent. Teleportation light swallowed them all, depositing each to their positions.
Lucian stayed where he was—in the center of the storm. His draconic aura expanded, holding back millions of orcs with pure will. He could have enslaved them outright, but he refused. This wasn't domination. This was restraint.
He'd hold them in place until the right end came.
---
Elsewhere, fire and blood painted the battlefield.
Shion spun through the front lines, her massive Odachi carving through ranks of orc generals. Her movements were reckless but elegant, each swing accompanied by a crescent of lunar light that cleaved flesh and armor alike.
Beside her, Shuna chanted softly, magic circles spinning beneath her feet. A sea of pink light erupted, weaving binding threads of holy silk that immobilized waves of enemies.
"Ready!" Shuna shouted.
"Got it!" Shion roared, plunging forward. Her blade glowed white-hot and she cut down an orc general in a single, brilliant arc. Blood hissed into steam before it hit the ground.
Around them, orcs moved sluggishly—their minds clouded by the faint residue of Lucian's authority.
"Feels almost unfair," Shion muttered, grinning.
"Then finish it faster," Shuna teased.
The sisters fought back-to-back, laughter echoing amidst carnage.
---
Farther out, Benimaru stood atop a hill of corpses, facing Gelmud.
"So you're the mastermind," he said, his voice calm but his eyes burning.
Gelmud sneered. "You should be honored to die for my design, creature."
Benimaru's smirk was thin and dangerous. "You first."
He swung his blade once—and the sky turned red.
Solar fire erupted from his sword, forming a dome of molten light that trapped Gelmud inside. The Majin screamed, unleashing a barrage of dark spells that disintegrated before touching Benimaru.
"You can't run," Benimaru said coldly. "Not from the sun."
Every slash of his blade left streaks of gold that burned through reality itself. Gelmud tried teleporting, but each attempt failed—blocked by the solar prison.
"Goodbye," Benimaru whispered.
He sheathed his sword. A second later, Gelmud's body fell apart in glowing cinders.
---
At the center of it all, Rimuru faced the Orc Disaster.
The monster towered over her—a grotesque fusion of hunger and agony, regeneration knitting every wound faster than she could deal it. Her blades of water carved into its flesh, only for the gashes to close instantly.
Her voice was steady, though her eyes burned with frustration. "You're tough… but not tough enough."
She remembered Lucian's words: Eat him.
Her slime form expanded, glowing cyan. The Orc Disaster roared and lunged—straight into her.
The forest shook as Rimuru devoured him whole.
There was a moment of stillness… then silence.
---
Lucian's head lifted. He felt it—the sudden absence of chaos, the clarity spreading across the battlefield. His control over the orcs solidified; their minds cleared, their aggression fading.
But just as relief settled in, laughter echoed through the trees.
Two figures materialized above him—a man and a woman in jesters' garb, masks painted with mockery.
"Ahh, the great Lord of Monsters himself," Footman drawled.
Tear giggled. "He's cuter than I expected."
Lucian sighed. "You two really picked the wrong night."
They attacked without warning.
Tear's ribbons lashed like blades, slicing through the air in unpredictable patterns, while Footman blurred forward, his hammer distorting gravity with each swing. Lucian blocked one strike with his forearm—the ground beneath him cratered.
"You're fast," he admitted, sidestepping the next swing. "But predictable."
He countered with an Eclipse Slash, a beam of condensed light and darkness that tore through trees like paper. Tear dodged, barely, her laughter faltering.
They were outmatched—yet annoyingly slippery. Every time he moved to end it, they slipped away in bursts of smoke and distortion magic.
"You rely too much on tricks," Lucian growled, his aura darkening. "Let me show you power."
His wings unfurled, and the forest shook.
A surge of raw draconic force exploded outward, sending shockwaves that flattened miles of terrain. Tear screamed as her illusions shattered. Footman's armor cracked under the pressure.
Still, they persisted—darting between trees, weaving reality-warping ribbons that tried to bind him. Lucian tore through them like spiderwebs.
"You should have run when you had the chance."
He raised his hand, summoning the authority of Abhoth once more. His presence became unbearable—divine and monstrous at once.
Thousands of orcs turned in unison, their freed minds now filled with a singular instinct.
Lucian's voice dropped, low and terrible. "Feed."
The orcs swarmed the jesters. Tear's laughter turned to screams as she vanished into the mob. Footman bellowed, swinging wildly before disappearing beneath the horde.
Lucian knew amid the chaos they had both teleported away, but he did not follow. He had a long night ahead with all the new people.
Lucian watched silently as the noise faded to nothing. His aura dissipated, the orcs slumping to the ground—alive, but free.
He exhaled. "Done."
---
All across the battlefield, the noise died. The forest was still again—save for the crackle of fire and the quiet breaths of the survivors.
Rimuru stood in her human form, wiping the last of the Orc Disaster's remains from her hand.
Benimaru, Souei, Shion, Shuna, and Hakurou gathered nearby, their forms glowing faintly from the aftereffects of their battles.
Lucian landed before them, his aura fading. Their eyes met—no words needed.
They'd won.
And as the night wind swept through the silent forest, carrying the scent of blood and renewal, the Ogres knelt before him once more—not in fear, but in reverence.
The age of monsters had begun.
A/n: On one hand I wanted to make it a 3-4 chapter long arc but I kind of realised that at this point the power level doesn't match for there to even be any struggle so I decided to just finsh it all in one go.
Still, for next times, should I expand on the fights etc?