Guy Crimson did not pause to allow Rimuru time to stabilize his magicules. The faint spark of satisfaction in his crimson eyes vanished behind an absolute, suffocating density of ambient power that made the isolated barrier above pulse with strain.
"If you intend to stand as a shield, Rimuru, then carry the full weight of it," Guy said, his voice dropping into a resonant, lethal pitch.
He raised a single hand. The air above the obsidian floor cracked open, manifesting a roaring sphere of hyper-compressed thermal energy wrapped in razor-thin spatial blades. An attack powerful enough to erase the entire lower half of the arena, threatening every civilian simulation anchored behind him.
In the elevated gallery, Milim's hands gripped the stone railing so tightly the reinforced rock cracked under her knuckles, while Shizue held her breath, her hand frozen on her scabbard. Loki's posture remained rigid, his playful demeanor completely absent as he watched the sphere begin its descent.
'Raphael, we can't dodge this, and we can't block it with standard barriers!' Rimuru declared internally. 'If that spatial pressure leaks, the projections, and the barrier wall are done for.'
[Notice: Standard defensive arrays are insufficient. Initiating full activation of Ultimate Skill: Beelzebuth, Lord of Gluttony.]
A concentrated wave of dark power erupted from Rimuru's frame, shaking the subterranean chamber. It was not an aggressive flex of raw dominance, but a tightly bound, controlled manifestation of his evolved aura, focused entirely around his immediate perimeter.
"There it is," Leon Cromwell murmured, his golden eyes narrowing at the unmistakable qualitative change in Rimuru's power.
As the mass of thermal plasma and spatial blades descended, Rimuru stepped directly beneath the blast vector. He extended both arms, unleashing the absolute consuming expanse of Beelzebuth. A cavernous, abyssal vortex opened in front of him, swallowing the hyper-dense attack whole.
[Warning: Absorbed energy mass exceeds standard internal storage threshold. Thermal and spatial isolation required.]
'Don't store it, and don't reflect it back at him!' Rimuru commanded, drawing upon every ounce of his experience as a ruler who had to manage disaster without causing secondary ruin. 'Redirect the excess upward into the barrier grid where it can disperse safely!'
Using Raphael's instant spatial calculations, Rimuru separated the thermal force from the spatial blades inside Beelzebuth's stomach space, reducing both to raw magicules. He expelled the neutralized residue through an empty vector above the arena. The outermost containment layer flared as it absorbed the raw magicules and dispersed them harmlessly across the wider barrier grid, leaving the arena floor and every civilian projection untouched.
Through the dissipating pale mist, Guy's eyes widened slightly. For the smallest instant, as the mediator verified that the spatial energy had been safely contained without collateral damage, Guy's fingers loosened. The crushing pressure around his shoulders eased, barely, but enough.
Raphael marked the opening, but Rimuru moved before the analysis had finished putting it into words.
Driven by raw timing and sheer determination, Rimuru closed the distance in a flash of physical acceleration, throwing a single, magicule-reinforced right straight through the open lane.
CRACK!
Rimuru's fist struck Guy square on the left cheekbone. The shockwave rolled through the subterranean hall, and Guy's head shifted sideways by a fraction. A clean, undisputed hit.
Silence fell across the arena.
Rimuru dropped back immediately, panting as his form stabilized, keeping his guard raised and eyes fixed on the Red Lord.
Guy slowly turned his face back toward Rimuru, reaching up with two fingers to lightly touch his cheek where the punch had landed. He did not look angry; his expression was completely calm, accompanied by a genuine, relaxed smirk.
"That's enough," Guy said, dropping his hands to his sides as the ambient killing intent vanished instantly.
The simulated civilian projections dissolved into faint motes of magicules as the combat state ended.
"Let's get one thing clear, Rimuru," Guy stated clearly, his voice carrying effortlessly up to the gallery. "You haven't defeated me. If this were a fight to the death, your endurance would have given out long before my patience did."
Guy stepped closer, looking down at Rimuru with undeniable approval. "But you held. You protected what stood behind you, adapted when brute force failed, and still found an opening. That's enough. You pass."
Up in the balcony, the reaction was instantaneous.
Shizue let out a long, shuddering exhale, her shoulders slumping in deep relief as she finally let go of her sword's hilt. Beside her, Diablo placed a hand over his heart, his face radiating ecstatic, unshakeable pride. "To protect everyone placed behind you and still strike Guy… magnificent, Lord Rimuru," Diablo whispered with absolute reverence.
"WAHAHAHA!" Milim's boisterous laughter echoed across the hall as she threw her arms in the air, jumping up and down on the velvet seating. "I told you Rimuru could do it! Did you see that punch?"
Frey grabbed Milim by her cloak to keep her from diving over the balcony rail in excitement, while Leon gave a subtle, respectful nod from the far corner.
Guy turned toward the circular platform at the center of the arena, his crimson cloak sweeping behind him.
"Clean yourself up, Rimuru," Guy called as the platform began rising toward the council chamber. "It's time to take the formal vote."
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