Five days of unconsciousness during Rimuru's battle with Hinata had felt like five centuries.
When he finally crossed the borders of Tempest, death greeted him before anything else.
There were no children laughing in the streets.
No rhythmic hammering from Kaijin's forge.
No life.
The city that once symbolized coexistence had been transformed into a slaughterhouse, its walls painted in the blood of the innocent.
Rimuru's trembling eyes witnessed scenes that even demons would hesitate to imagine—
Parents, tortured beyond reason, forced to spill the blood of their own children.
Survivors whose spirits had shattered long before their bodies gave in.
And in that moment…
Something inside him broke.
The naive kindness he once cherished collapsed into a dark, endless void.
Then, the Voice of the World resounded.
[Announcement… Due to unprecedented levels of rage and suffering, Unique Skill [Hatred] has awakened.]
Great Sage immediately followed with its analysis:
[Unique Skill: Hatred — Special Property: As long as the object of hatred remains alive, the user's magicule reserves become infinite. This skill does not impair rationality. The user will destroy with complete awareness.]
Twenty thousand soldiers of Falmuth, along with the Holy Knights of the Church, were celebrating their victory.
Then night fell.
But it was not a peaceful night.
Rimuru stood in the sky above them.
His aura was no longer the familiar radiant blue.
It was deep violet—
Bleeding into absolute black.
He raised his hand toward the moon.
Thousands of suspended magicule droplets filled the air.
But instead of concentrating sunlight…
They began devouring the cold glow of the moon.
"…Megiddo."
He whispered it softly.
This time, there were no blazing beams of solar light.
What descended instead were rays of absolute cold—
Of nothingness itself.
They passed silently through the enemy ranks.
Anyone touched did not simply die.
They collapsed at the atomic level.
Screams never left their throats.
Rimuru's hatred did not even grant them the mercy of begging.
When the last of the twenty thousand turned to dust, a suffocating silence swallowed the battlefield.
Rimuru waited.
He waited for the harvest of souls.
For the evolution into a Demon Lord.
Then the Voice of the World spoke again—
A message that would have made even history tremble, had anyone else heard it.
[Number of souls collected: 20,000.]
[Status: Insufficient.]
[For a being bearing "Absolute Hatred," these sacrifices are negligible.]
[The thirst of Null remains unsatisfied…]
And the silence deepened.