The Shadow Is Lurking

In a dimly lit chamber adorned with lavish tapestries and glowing crystal chandeliers, three imposing figures sat around a round table, the tension between them almost palpable. The room exuded an air of authority and malice, befitting a meeting of three members of the Abyssal Lords: Clayman, Carrion, and Frey.

Clayman, a slender man with sharp, almost doll-like features, leaned back in his ornate chair, swirling a glass of crimson liquid. His smile was cold, calculating. "A new Demon Lord in the Jura Forest," he began, his tone laced with disdain. "This... Rimuru Tempest. A name we didn't even know a month ago, and yet he's already managed to upset the balance of power. How inconvenient."

Carrion, the Beast King, sat with his arms crossed, his muscular frame towering over the table. His golden mane of hair shimmered faintly in the light as his piercing eyes narrowed at Clayman. "Inconvenient? Clayman, this isn't just an inconvenience.

From what my spies report, this so-called Demon Lord didn't just evolve—he decimated the Orc Disaster with ease and even managed to subjugate the remnants of the Orc army. That's 100,000 orcs at his disposal now. If left unchecked, he could grow into a threat far greater than any of us anticipated."

Frey, the Sky Queen, sat gracefully with her wings partially folded behind her. Her cold beauty was matched only by her sharp intellect. She tapped her manicured nails against the table, her expression unreadable. "Indeed. And it seems he's not just gathering power—he's building alliances.

The monsters of the Jura Forest are flocking to him. I've heard whispers of a village—no, a city—teeming with powerful subordinates. Even the Dryads have acknowledged him as a leader. That's no small feat."

Clayman's smile twisted into a smirk. "A city of Majins and monsters... How quaint. But this so-called Demon Lord is still young, inexperienced. He might have strength, but he lacks the cunning and guile to survive in our world. We could... educate him on the harsh realities of power."

Carrion growled, his voice like a low rumble of thunder. "You mean subdue him and take what he's built for ourselves, don't you? Typical Clayman. Always scheming, always plotting from the shadows."

Clayman's eyes flashed dangerously, but he maintained his composure. "Do you deny that it's the most practical course of action? Together, the three of us could crush him before he becomes a real threat. His subordinates would fall in line, and his resources would bolster our own armies. It's a win-win scenario."

Frey interjected, her voice cool and commanding. "And what if we underestimate him? From what I've gathered, this Rimuru is... unconventional. He's not bound by the same rules as most of us.

He names his subordinates freely, evolves them, and grants them power at a rate that defies logic. If we move against him and fail, it won't just be one of us who falls—it could spell the end of all three of us."

Carrion nodded. "Frey's right. This isn't a decision we can take lightly. But I also agree that we can't ignore him. If he's allowed to grow unchecked, he might challenge our positions in the Abyssal Lords—or worse, attract the attention of the stronger Demon Lords. Guy or Milim might take an interest in him, and then we'd be at a disadvantage."

Clayman's smirk faltered for a moment at the mention of Guy Crimson and Milim Nava, two of the most powerful Demon Lords. He leaned forward, placing his glass on the table.

"Then we strike decisively and swiftly, before he can strengthen his position further. We combine our armies, and the three of us confront him directly. If we display overwhelming power, his forces will crumble, and Rimuru himself will submit—or be eliminated."

Frey raised an eyebrow. "And if he doesn't submit?"

Clayman's smile returned, colder than ever. "Then we make an example of him. The weak follow the strong, after all. Once his subordinates see their so-called leader fall, they'll understand where true power lies."

Carrion grunted. "I'm not so sure it'll be that easy. But fine. If we're doing this, we need to plan carefully. No room for errors. We'll combine our armies and march into the Jura Forest together. I'll lead the vanguard."

Frey sighed, her wings shifting slightly. "Very well. But remember, Clayman, if this backfires, I won't hesitate to ensure you're the one who pays the price."

Clayman chuckled, feigning innocence. "Frey, my dear, when have my plans ever failed?"

Carrion rolled his eyes. "Let's hope this isn't the first time. For all our sakes."

"I have another idea," Clayman began, his voice smooth and calculated. "What if we don't confront Rimuru directly? Instead, we use one of the human nations to do our dirty work for us. Let them weaken him and his forces, and once he's sufficiently battered and bruised, we step in and finish the job."

Carrion, seated to Clayman's right, frowned. His golden eyes narrowed suspiciously as he studied the scheming Demon Lord. "Using humans? That's a coward's tactic, Clayman. Besides, what human nation would willingly attack a Demon Lord? Most of them are too terrified to even whisper our names, let alone pick a fight with one of us."

Frey, ever composed, tapped her fingers lightly on the table, her sharp gaze fixed on Clayman. "Carrion has a point. Humans aren't foolish enough to provoke a Demon Lord unless they have a death wish. Even if we could manipulate them, it would take significant effort to orchestrate such an attack without exposing our hand."

Clayman chuckled softly, the sound echoing through the chamber. "Oh, my dear Frey, you underestimate my talents. Humans may fear us, but they're also easily swayed by greed, ambition, and desperation. All it takes is a little nudge—a whisper here, a threat there—and they'll do exactly what we want."

Carrion's brow furrowed as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. "And what nation do you propose we manipulate? I doubt any human kingdom would willingly go to war with a force as powerful as Rimuru's, especially with the Orc army under his command."

Clayman's smirk deepened. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong. There's one nation that's perfectly suited for this task: Falmuth."

Frey's expression remained neutral, but her interest was piqued. "Falmuth? The kingdom bordering the Great Jura Forest? And why, pray tell, would they attack Rimuru?"

Clayman leaned back in his chair, his tone dripping with smugness. "Falmuth has been itching to expand its territory for years. They view the monsters in the Jura Forest as a threat to their borders and their trade routes.

All we need to do is give them a little... encouragement. Perhaps a fabricated report about Rimuru's 'hostility' or a staged attack on one of their trading caravans. Once they see Rimuru as a threat, they'll gladly march their armies into the forest."

Carrion's eyes narrowed. "And when Rimuru crushes them—which he will—what's stopping him from figuring out that we were behind it? If he does, he'll come after us next."

Clayman waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, Carrion, you think so little of my abilities. By the time Rimuru realizes the truth, it will already be too late.

He'll be weakened from fighting Falmuth's forces, and we'll strike at the perfect moment. Besides, humans are expendable. Let them take the brunt of his wrath while we watch from the shadows."

Frey arched an eyebrow. "And what exactly do you gain from this, Clayman? You seem unusually eager to involve yourself in this plan."

Clayman's smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before he recovered. "Why, Frey, I'm doing this for the good of all of us. Rimuru is a threat to the balance of power among the Abyssal Lords. If we don't deal with him now, he'll grow strong enough to challenge us directly. Surely you understand the importance of eliminating potential rivals."

Frey's gaze lingered on Clayman, suspicion evident in her eyes, but she said nothing.

Carrion grunted, clearly displeased. "I still don't like this plan. It's underhanded and risky. But..." He sighed heavily. "I suppose it's better than facing Rimuru head-on while he's at full strength. If Falmuth weakens him enough, it might just work."

Clayman clapped his hands together, his grin widening. "Excellent! Then it's decided. I'll take care of the preparations and ensure Falmuth takes the bait. In the meantime, the two of you should ready your armies. Once the humans have done their part, we'll make our move."

Frey finally spoke, her tone icy. "Clayman, if this plan backfires, don't think for a moment that Carrion and I won't hold you accountable. If Rimuru survives and comes after us, it will be your head on the chopping block."

Clayman chuckled, his confidence unwavering. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of failing. Trust me, my dear Frey, everything will go exactly as planned."

As the meeting drew to a close, Clayman's mind raced with thoughts of his true goal. The souls of Falmuth's fallen soldiers would be his ticket to awakening as a True Demon Lord. Manipulating the humans was just a means to an end, a stepping stone on his path to ultimate power.

As Carrion and Frey left the chamber, their doubts lingering, Clayman remained seated, a sinister grin spreading across his face. "Soon," he muttered to himself, "I'll stand at the pinnacle of the Abyssal Lords.