The tour through Hell had been… revealing.
The lesser demons had guided me through vast territories of crimson desolation, showing me everything from magma lakes where lower demons fought over territory, to the Spirals of the Void, areas where space itself seemed to twist in on itself. I had seen mountains floating upside down, rivers flowing upward, and creatures that defied any logical description.
It was beautiful in a twisted, unnatural way.
But more importantly, I had learned. About Hell's geography, about the minor demon factions, about places of power I could exploit later. The lesser demons had been surprisingly informative, eager to please a Primordial.
Now, after what must have been days—though time here was impossible to measure accurately—we were approaching what my guides called the "Silver Plains," a vast expanse where the ground shimmered with a sickly whitish hue.
"Great Primordial," spoke the scaly demon who had become my main guide, his voice trembling. "Beyond this point… we enter territories that the White Primordial sometimes frequents."
I stopped in my tracks. Testarossa. One of the other Primordials from the original series. In the canon story, she would eventually become one of Rimuru's most loyal servants along with Carrera and Ultima, forming the trio of demonic maids.
But here, now, she was simply Blanc—the White Primordial Demon.
"Sometimes frequents?" I repeated. "She doesn't reside here permanently?"
"Primordials come and go according to their will, great lord. We have no way of predicting their movements."
I considered turning back. Avoiding the encounter entirely. But that would be cowardly, and besides, I needed information. If I was going to navigate this world, I would eventually have to interact with the other Primordials.
Better to do it on my own terms.
"We will continue," I ordered.
We advanced into the Silver Plains. The change in the environment was immediate—the oppressive heat of Hell became colder, almost frigid. The air itself felt denser, charged with a different kind of pressure.
And then I felt her.
A massive, ancient, powerful presence. Not as overwhelming as my own—we were equals as Primordials—but unmistakably there. Like a weight in the air that reminded you that you were not alone.
The lesser demons froze instantly, dropping to the ground in genuine terror.
"Well, well," a female voice, soft but edged with icy sharpness, echoed across the plains. "How interesting. Noir strolling through my territories?"
She appeared as if she had simply materialized from the shadows—a female figure of supernatural beauty. Snow-white hair cascading down to her waist, porcelain-pale skin, and golden eyes shining with ancient intelligence. She wore something that could only be described as lethal elegance: a white dress that seemed to be made of solidified mist.
Testarossa. Blanc. The White Primordial Demon.
She maintained a neutral expression as she approached, each step measured and graceful. Her gaze swept over me, evaluating.
"Blanc," I greeted her with a nod, trying to project the arrogant confidence the original Noir would have had. "I didn't know you claimed these plains as your territory."
"I don't claim them," she replied with a small, enigmatic smile. "I simply… prefer them. They're peaceful. Unlike those magma lakes you seem to enjoy so much."
Did the original Noir like them? I'd have to assume so.
"Tastes change," I replied casually.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. Damn it. Had I been too obvious?
"Change?" she repeated, tilting her head. "How curious. We've existed for eons, Noir. Our tastes were set millennia ago." She took another step closer. "So why is a Black Primordial suddenly… exploring? With a retinue of lesser demons, no less. That's not very… characteristic of you."
Damn it. She was more perceptive than I expected.
"Boredom drives change," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Eons of existence tend to be… monotonous. I decided to vary my routine."
"Mmm." She didn't seem convinced, but she wasn't confrontational either. Just… curious. "Interesting timing. Especially considering the recent news."
My senses sharpened. "News?"
A genuine smile crossed her face, though there was something sharp in it. "Haven't you heard? Rouge left."
My heart—or whatever I had—skipped a beat. "Rouge? Guy Crimson?"
"The very same." She crossed her arms, studying my reaction. "He left Hell some time ago. No one knows exactly what he's doing in the material world, but the rumors say he's established some kind of… domain. A palace, apparently." She paused. "And Violet, in his absence, decided to claim his old territories here. You know how she is—always opportunistic."
Guy had already left Hell to establish his palace. That confirmed I was definitely after his rise to Demon Lord, but before Rimuru's arrival. And Ultima—Violet—had taken over his territories.
"Violet being Violet," I commented, trying to sound indifferent. "Nothing surprising."
"No, I suppose not." Blanc took a few more steps closer, and I had to resist the urge to step back. We were only a few meters apart now. "But what does surprise me is your reaction. Or rather… the lack of it."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"The Noir I know would have been furious. Or at least intrigued." Her golden eyes pierced into me. "The Noir I know would already be planning how to use this situation to his advantage. How to find someone in the material world worthy of his service." Her smile sharpened. "But you… you just seem to be strolling around. Without any apparent purpose. Without that… characteristic hunger you've always had."
Silence stretched between us, heavy with tension.
I had to say something. Something that explained my behavior without revealing the truth.
"Maybe," I said slowly, choosing each word carefully, "I got tired of waiting."
"Waiting?"
"For someone worthy." The words came out more bitter than I intended. "Eons searching, yearning to serve someone who deserved my loyalty. And for what? Maybe Rouge had the right idea—going to the material world and doing something for himself instead of waiting eternally for a master who never comes."
It wasn't entirely a lie. The original Noir had waited forever. I had just reached a different conclusion about what to do.
Blanc studied me for a long moment, her eyes impossible to read.
"Interesting," she finally murmured. "Very interesting. I never thought I'd hear you question your purpose, Noir." She took a step back, and some of the tension faded. "You look different too. Not physically, but… here." She gestured toward my chest, where my heart would be if I were human. "Your essence. Something has… changed in you."
My blood ran cold. Could she really sense it? Was my soul that different from the original Noir's?
"Epiphanies tend to change people," I said carefully.
"I suppose they do." Blanc turned away and began to walk off, but stopped and looked at me over her shoulder. "So what will you do now, Noir? Now that you've decided waiting for a master is… what did you call it? Useless?"
The million-dollar question.
"I haven't decided yet," I admitted. There was no point in lying completely. "I'm… exploring my options."
A soft laugh escaped her lips. "Honesty. From you. How refreshing." She began walking again, her form starting to blur into the silvery mist of the plains. "Be careful, Noir. Change is dangerous, even for us. Especially when it concerns our fundamental nature."
Her voice echoed one last time before she vanished completely.
"And if you decide to visit Rouge in his palace… tell him Blanc sends her regards. I'm curious to see what he's built."
And then she was gone, leaving me alone with my turbulent thoughts and trembling lesser demons.
I let out a slow breath. That encounter had been… complicated. Blanc was perceptive, far too perceptive. She had noticed the changes in me, even if she didn't fully understand what they meant.
I would have to be more careful.
But I had also gained valuable information. Guy had left Hell. Ultima had expanded her territory. And the other Primordials were beginning to notice that something had changed about me.
The clock was ticking, even if I didn't know how much time I had left before the events of the original series began.
"Stand up," I ordered the lesser demons, who immediately obeyed, though they were still trembling.
I needed a plan. A real plan. I couldn't just wander through Hell waiting for things to sort themselves out.
Blanc had asked what I would do now.
It was time I asked myself that question seriously too.
And found an answer.