The three Church spies, believing themselves invisible under their magicule concealment cloaks, slipped out of the tavern, following what they thought was Sirzechs' trail. However, Avalon's "Shadow Game" had already begun. Under Szayelaporro's orders, the marble street slabs began to shift silently. The spies turned a corner expecting to find the main avenue, only to find themselves in the exact same alley they had just left. Three times.
Rimuru used Souei's abilities to weave thought-threads that whispered inverted biblical passages into the clerics' ears, clouding their senses and making them question if the city was alive or if they were losing their minds. Every time the spies attempted to scale a wall or use flight magic, Valerius would appear "by chance" before them, dressed as a street sweeper or a night watchman, cordially asking to see their "nighttime sanitary passports."
"Please, gentlemen," Valerius would say with icy politeness as the spies tried to climb a gargoyle, "Article 4 of the Urbanism Law prohibits the climbing of monuments after 10:00 PM without protective gloves. Could you please step down so I may issue the fine?"
The infiltrators, elite knights trained to face monsters, found themselves trapped in a web of bureaucracy and illusions. They tried to use a Teleportation Stone to flee, but Szayelaporro had already activated a space-inhibitor within the marble rails. The portal opened, but instead of taking them out of Jura, it spat them directly into a glass cell within the Research Institute. There, Szayelaporro awaited them, noting data on a parchment.
"Impressive. Your cortisol levels increased by 300% in just twenty minutes of urban disorientation. Lord Sirzechs will be pleased with the report."
Back at the tavern, Sirzechs and Rimuru shared a toast. Through a communication crystal, they watched the spies—now completely disoriented and exhausted—being served tea by Valerius inside their cell.
"You're cruel, Sirzechs," Rimuru laughed. "They'd rather have fought an army of orcs than deal with your butler and traffic laws."
"Brute force creates martyrs," Sirzechs replied, returning to his original form as his crimson aura glowed softly. "But absurd bureaucracy creates only confusion. The Church will now fear Avalon not for what we can destroy, but for what they cannot understand."
The night off ended in a silent victory. However, Sirzechs knew the next visit would not be from spies, but from someone he truly respected: Hinata Sakaguchi.
The sun setting over Avalon's marble peaks cast a blood-like hue upon the streets. Sirzechs stood at the highest point of the Great Exchange Station, observing the southern horizon. He felt the pressure coming from the Western Nations—not a physical pressure, but the lingering scent of incense and the metallic vibration of the Holy Church's armor.
"They are becoming bold, aren't they, Grayfia?" Sirzechs commented, without turning around.
"They fear what they cannot tax or convert, my Lord," she replied, standing impeccably by his side. "Their presence at the border is delaying the flow of ore by 12%."
Sirzechs smiled. It was not a smile of amusement, but of resolve. He did not need rituals. He simply closed his eyes and reached out his hand into the cold night air. The magicules around him began to swirl in a heavy, humid condensation. The oxygen seemed to transform into water under his will.
The space in front of Sirzechs cracked. From the rift, no light emerged, but rather a torrent of spiritual pressure that made the marble rails vibrate. From the dense, freezing mist, four silhouettes emerged. In the center stood Tier Harribel. Her bronzed skin contrasted with her white Avalon official robes, and the bone mask covering her face up to her nose gave her an aura of silent divinity. She knelt, driving her hollow, broad blade into the ground.
"Lord Sirzechs," her voice was like the sound of deep waters, steady and unshakable. "The world around this city reeks of unnecessary conflict. If you wish for the sea to swallow those who disturb your order, I shall be your tide."
"Harribel," Sirzechs placed a hand on the warrior's shoulder. "Avalon is a city of peace, but peace requires a guardian who understands the cost of sacrifice. The Holy Church is lurking. I want you to take command of the Elite Border Guard. Wherever there is a marble rail, your authority shall be absolute."
Harribel immediately demonstrated her protective instinct. She looked at the Tres Bestias and, with a simple nod, sent them to the station's cardinal points.
"There shall be no unnecessary bloodshed," Harribel declared to her subordinates. "But do not allow heresy to touch the marble of this city. If they advance, show them the despair of drowning on dry land."
Harribel's arrival brought a new atmosphere to Avalon. She took up residence within the central reservoirs and the great aqueducts of the railway. Her presence was felt as a constant, comforting humidity for the citizens, but an oppressive one for anyone carrying hostile intent. Apacci quickly became the "terror" of Church scouts, Mila Rose began training Geld's Orcs, while Sung-Sun slipped into the shadows, ensuring no spy left Avalon with vital information.
Avalon now had its Second Sword. If Szayelaporro was the mind that created the tracks, Harribel was the ocean that protected them. With infrastructure and security consolidated, Sirzechs felt it was time to transmute raw power into diplomatic influence. Avalon should not just be feared; it should be the center of gravity. Rimuru, ever pragmatic, saw the opportunity to bring the Kingdom of Blumund into their sphere of influence, inviting Baron Fuze to witness what the "Jura Axis" was capable of offering.