Chapter 44: Closing the Market
"Then we prepare for the Harvest Festival," I broadcast to the Kijin, my voice a resonant, icy frequency that stabilizes the wavering magicules in the plaza. "Benimaru, take the lead on the defensive perimeter. Souei, continue the surveillance. I will handle the 'soul-collection' logistics. We need to ensure that every Falmuth soldier stays within the engagement zone. No one escapes without paying their entry fee."
The sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting long, jagged shadows across the City of Tempest. The violet hue of the barrier above us deepens, a grim reminder of the "regulatory hurdles" we are still operating under. But the atmosphere has shifted. The mourning has been replaced by a quiet, mechanical preparation for a mass-scale liquidation.
Notice. The Falmuth main army has established a central command camp 10.2 kilometers to the west. Total personnel: 20,000. They are currently celebrating the 'successful suppression' of the Jura Forest. Their defensive posture is inefficient.
Celebrate while you can, gentlemen, I think, my obsidian membrane shimmering with a dark, mirror-like sheen. You've invaded a sovereign territory and damaged high-value assets. In any other world, I'd take you to court. Here, I'm just going to collect the principal—with interest.
"Shinji," Rimuru transmits, his voice now a calm, terrifying void. He is hovering a few inches off the ground, the blue light of his form looking colder than ever. "I'm heading out. I'll be taking the high-altitude position. Don't let them scatter."
"Understood," I pulse. "I'm deploying a localized [Transaction Domain] around the camp's perimeter. I'll ensure the 'exit taxes' are high enough to keep them pinned. Rimuru... make sure the execution is clean. We don't want to damage the souls; we need them in mint condition for the ritual."
I glide toward the western border of the city, moving through the trees like a ghost of industrial vengeance. The Falmuth camp is a sprawling mess of tents, torches, and drunken laughter. They think the "monsters" are too weakened by the barrier to retaliate. They think they're the predators.
Azathoth, calculate the optimal coordinates for the containment net. I want the [Transaction Domain] to overlap with the barrier's edge. If they try to run, I want them to hit a wall of physical density they can't negotiate with.
Confirmed. Coordinates locked. Notice: Analyzing the 'Otherworlder' signatures within the camp. They are currently located in the central command tent. Suggestion: Prioritize the acquisition of their skills before the 'Megiddo' protocol initiates.
Naturally. I'm not letting those unique laws go to waste in a mass liquidation.
[Spatial Motion]
I appear in the shadows just outside the central camp. The magicule density here is even lower due to the human barrier, but my [Obsidian Aegis] hums, providing the necessary internal pressure. Above us, the stars begin to emerge—and with them, a series of small, floating water droplets manifest in the upper atmosphere.
"Megiddo," Rimuru's voice echoes through the [Thought Communication] network.
The first beam of concentrated sunlight pierces the darkness. It's not an explosion; it's a surgical strike. A Falmuth sentry on the perimeter is deleted before he can even blink. Then another. Then five. The laughter in the camp dies instantly, replaced by a confused, rising panic as people begin to drop with holes through their skulls.
"What's happening?! Where is it coming from?!" a commander screams, clutching a bleeding shoulder.
"The market is closing," I pulse, though they can't hear me.
[Transaction Domain]
I expand the domain to its maximum radius, the invisible walls snapping into place around the panicked soldiers. Those who try to run for the horses find themselves hitting a space so dense it feels like walking through solid lead.
Warning. Soul Capacity: 44%. Analyzing the first 1,000 souls harvested by Rimuru. The energy influx is beginning to saturate the ritual space. Suggestion: Maintain containment until the 20,000 threshold is reached.
"No one leaves without a receipt," I pulse, my dark surface reflecting the flickering campfires and the lethal streaks of light raining from the sky.
Current Magicule Reserves: 90.1%. Location: Falmuth Camp Perimeter. Status: Megiddo in progress. Containment absolute. Soul Capacity: 44%.
Chapter End.