「 ✦ Rimuru Tempest ✦ 」
I found myself lost in thoughts that had been haunting me since... well, since everything went sideways.
I used to think about Tempest a lot more fondly. Those early days when we were all just figuring things out together—Gobta's ridiculous antics, Shion's cooking disasters that somehow tasted amazing, Benimaru's earnest dedication and all that.
We were building something beautiful, one that felt like home in a way I'd never experienced before.
Where did it all go wrong? —I asked myself the thousandth time.
The answer came to me with the same bitter clarity it always did. Engrassia.
That damned school. I knew schools suck big time but this was on a different level.
If I'd just stuck to the original plan—drop off the kids, make sure they were saved and settled, then head back home—none of this would have happened. But no, I had to play the caring teacher. I had to extend my stay, get involved in their lives more than I should've, make myself a target.
Was I being selfish back then? That's what I kept coming back to.
I told myself I was helping those kids—Chloe, Kenya, Ryota, Gale, and Alice—but maybe I was just indulging my own need to feel useful, to feel like Satoru Mikami again in some weird way. Maybe staying in Engrassia had more to do with my own nostalgia for human connection than any genuine concern for their welfare.
Then again, they did need help.
No one certainly was going to provide proper guidance to a bunch of otherworlders with self-sabotaging powers. So maybe I was right to stay. Maybe the problem wasn't my decision to help, but the Western Church's decision to see me as a threat worthy of elimination.
My jaw tightened as I thought about them. They were the real villains here, weren't they? They made the first move. They declared war on someone who just wanted to help a few displaced kids find their footing in an unfamiliar world.
But then my thoughts inevitably drifted to her.
Hinata Sakaguchi.
I'd respected her once. Hell, I'd even admired her dedication, her strength, her principles even if I'd only just heard about her. Well, right up until those same principles led her to put a sword through my body in the form of Meltslash. She didn't even hesitate, didn't ask questions, didn't give me a chance to explain.
My hands clenched into fists as I walked. The rational part of my mind believed she'd been fed lies, that whoever snitched on me had painted me as some kind of monster who wrongfully murdered her beloved teacher (technically, she wasn't wrong).
But my emotional part? That part wanted me to blame her for not seeing through their deception.
And then there was the kingdom itself. Falmuth, wasn't it? The ones who'd summoned those five kids in the first place, ripping them from their normal lives and dumping them into a world of magic and monsters without proper preparation or support. If they'd never performed that summoning ritual, none of this cascade of disasters would have started.
My thoughts were spiraling again, I realized.
This was becoming a bad habit—cycling through blame like a broken record, looking for someone, anyone, to hold responsible for the mess my life had become.
Is this what passed for coping these days?
A soft meow from behind the hotel door cut through my brooding.
I stopped in front of the door, blinking as reality reasserted itself around me. Right. I wasn't alone in this world, was I?
Taking a deep breath, I forced my shoulders to relax and managed what I hoped was a genuine smile. "Hey, Daisy. I'm back."
The door creaked open to reveal my temporary accommodation—a classy but awfully expensive room on the fifteenth floor of the Moonlit Hearth Hotel.
And there, perched regally on the windowsill like she owned the entire establishment, was my traveling companion.
"Miss me?" I asked, slipping off my sunglasses and setting them on the small table near the door. My red zip-up sweater followed, leaving me in just a simple t-shirt as I approached her.
She regarded me with that particular feline expression that somehow conveyed both affection and mild disdain, then padded over to rub against my outstretched hand. Her purr was surprisingly loud for such a small creature. I missed that sound. The only thing I can count on to soothe my nerves one way or another.
"I brought you something," I said, reaching into my Stomach space to retrieve the small package I'd picked up from a local fishmonger. "Fresh salmon. The good stuff, not those processed shit from the general store."
Her ears perked up immediately, and she began weaving between my legs with excitement. I couldn't help but smile as I opened the package and placed a few pieces on her designated dish.
"You should have seen the labyrinth, Daisy," I began conversationally, settling into the room's single chair as she attacked her meal with delicate ferocity. "Massive underground place, floating stone platforms everywhere, and the most annoying construct I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. The place's owner built herself a golem the size of a mountain and carried with her the most grating personality imaginable."
Daisy paused in her eating to give me a look that clearly said 'continue.'
"I'm serious. She kept calling me names and… and making these awful jokes even while we were fighting. Though I have to admit, her magic was impressive, and she'll be useful—assuming I don't go insane from the memory of her voice first."
My cat returned to her meal, apparently satisfied with my adventure summary.
"The real prize was the magic itself, though..." I trailed off.
Daisy finished her salmon and began grooming herself, occasionally glancing my way as if to make sure I was still there.
"Never mind. Ready to get out of here?" I asked, standing and gathering my things. "I figure we can grab some lunch somewhere with outdoor seating."
She hopped onto my shoulder, her claws finding purchase in my sweater without actually puncturing the fabric. It was a skill she'd perfected during our travels together.
The hotel's lobby was busier than I'd expected for mid-afternoon. A group of merchants huddled around one table, discussing trade routes in hushed tones. A pair of young adventurers sat near the fireplace, poring over what looked like a quest board posting.
"Is that him?" I heard someone whisper as we made our way toward the exit.
"Has to be. Look at that posture. And those eyes..."
"I heard he took down an entire pack of ice wolves single-handedly."
"That's nothing. My cousin saw him fight three mountain ogres at once and barely break a sweat."
Yeah, cause I can't sweat.
I kept my expression neutral, though internally I was rolling my eyes. The adventurer gossip network in this world was almost as efficient as social media back in Japan, and about as accurate. By the time stories made their way through a few retellings, you'd think I was some kind of legendary hero instead of just a guy trying to make his way in an unfamiliar world.
"Excuse me, sir Rimuru?"
I turned toward the reception desk, where a middle-aged woman with graying hair and kind eyes was waving a piece of parchment in my direction.
"Yes?" I approached the desk.
"This arrived for you two days ago," she explained, offering me the sealed letter. "Delivered by someone from the Royal Forces, if the uniform was anything to go by. Official business, I'd guess."
"Thanks," I said, accepting the correspondence with a slight frown. I couldn't think of any reason the Royal Forces would want to contact me. My adventurer registration was current, I hadn't broken any laws that I was aware of, and I'd been keeping a relatively low profile since arriving in this kingdom.
Except for that one time an organization tried to touch me.
The wax seal caught my attention immediately. Not just the royal crest, but a smaller stamp pressed alongside it—one I recognized from my brief encounter with a certain group of otherworlders.
The Hero Party's seal of approval.
I broke the seal carefully and unfolded the parchment, scanning its contents with growing amusement.
To the Esteemed Adventurer Rimuru Tempest,
By order of His Majesty King Eliheid S. B. Heiligh, you are cordially invited to attend the quarterly ball to be held at the Royal Palace on the evening of the 15th day of this month. This gathering celebrates the achievements of distinguished individuals who have contributed to the safety and prosperity of our kingdom.
Your recent accomplishments as a Gold-rank adventurer, as well as your commendable character as vouched for by the Hero Party, have earned you this honor. Formal attire is required.
Please confirm your attendance by the 12th day of this month.
With respect,Lord Commander Meld Loggins
Royal Forces of Heiligh
I couldn't help but laugh—a genuine sound that drew curious looks from several other patrons in the lobby.
What's so funny? Daisy seemed to ask with a twitch of her tail.
"Listen to this, girl," I said softly, angling the letter so she could see it (not that she could read, but she always seemed interested in official-looking documents). "Apparently we've been invited to a royal ball. Me, the guy who's been in this world for what—barely over a month? And already I'm distinguished enough to hobnob with nobility."
She meowed, which I chose to interpret as either congratulations or skepticism.
The Hero Party's involvement made sense, I supposed. I'd helped them out of a few scrapes during my time near the capital, and they seemed like decent kids despite being thrust into circumstances way beyond their maturity level. Still, it felt surreal to be receiving formal invitations to royal events when just a few weeks ago I'd been sneaking into inns and abusing Gluttony to steal whatever.
"You know what the last party I attended was?" I asked Daisy as we finally made our way out of the inn and onto the busy street. I told her about my company's year-end celebration back in Tokyo. Awkward small talk, bad karaoke, and way too much cheap beer. No drunk sex though, unfortunately. And how I spent most of the night hiding in the bathroom scrolling through my phone.
The memory made me cringe slightly. Social gatherings had never been my strong suit—not now, not during my time as the King of the Tempest Federation, not even back when I was human. The thought of navigating royal protocol and noble politics was more mentally exhausting than remotely intriguing.
"But you know what?" I continued, dodging a cart loaded with fresh produce as we made our way down the main thoroughfare. "When's the next opportunity going to come along to see how the other half lives in this world?"
Daisy purred, which I took as encouragement.
"Besides, I'll need proper formal wear. And you know what that means, don't you?"
She tilted her head, blue eyes catching the afternoon sunlight.
"Shopping trip," I announced, already changing direction toward the upscale district where I'd spotted several high-end tailoring establishments during my previous explorations of the city.
Let's see if they make suits for interdimensional slimes with questionable fashion sense.
Maybe attending this ball would be exactly the kind of normal social interaction I needed to ground myself again, to remember that not every encounter had to end in conflict or betrayal. Or maybe it would be a complete disaster.
··—–—⚜—–—···
Yeah.
I jinxed it.
I should've seen this coming.
Standing here in the middle of what was supposed to be a pleasant evening of diplomatic socializing (making friends on steroids), surrounded by enough steel and holy magic to level a city, I couldn't help but think that my track record with formal events was becoming impressively consistent, if we're keeping score. And it's an awful score.
The flashback hit me like a slap to the face—how everything had spiraled so perfectly out of control in the span of maybe twenty minutes.
...…
It had started innocently enough. The ballroom was magnificent, I had to admit—crystal chandeliers casting prismatic light across marble floors that could probably house my entire original goblin village.
Daisy had been perfectly content perched on my shoulder, occasionally batting at the golden tassels on my custom-made jacket while I made polite conversation with various nobles about random social issues and gossips.
Some of the Hero Party had been genuinely happy to see me. Shizuku, despite my not having trainer her for a while, had offered her usual composed smile and seemed more relaxed than I'd seen her in our previous encounters. For a brief, foolish moment, I'd actually started to believe this might go smoothly.
Then Pope Ishtar Langbard arrived.
The man himself was everything I'd come to expect from corrupt religious authority figures—tall, imperious, with the kind of smile that spoke of divine mandate and unquestionable righteousness. He'd approached me, flanked by his retinue of Holy Knights, offering pleasantries while his gaze lingered on me with uncomfortable intensity.
"So you're the famous Rimuru Tempest," he'd said, voice carrying just far enough to draw attention from nearby conversations. "I've heard such interesting stories about your recent activities."
I'd kept my response neutral, professional. "All good ones, I hope."
"Fascinating ones," he'd continued, that smile growing sharper. "Particularly regarding your sudden appearance in our kingdom. Your... mysterious origins. The way you've ingratiated yourself with our young heroes."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees, though I was probably the only one who noticed. Daisy's claws had tightened slightly against my shoulder—she always did have good instincts about people.
"I'm just an adventurer trying to make an honest living," I'd replied simply.
"Are you?" The Pope's voice had taken on a theatrical quality, designed to carry. "Because we've received some very disturbing reports about your true nature, Rimuru Tempest."
The conversation around us had begun to die.
That's when Kouki had stepped forward, but not in my defense. His handsome features were twisted with something between disappointment and righteous anger.
"Tell them, Pope Ishtar," Kouki had said, his voice ringing with conviction. "Tell them what you discovered about this... this deceiver."
My blood (figuratively) had turned to ice. Not from fear, but from the sheer audacity of what was happening, because what the actual fuck was going on here?
"Gladly," Pope Ishtar had produced a scroll from his robes with theatrical flourish. "Through divine revelation and careful investigation, we have discovered that Rimuru Tempest is not human at all. He is a high-ranking demon—a creature of evil and darkness that has infiltrated our sacred kingdom to corrupt our youth and sow chaos among the faithful."
The gasps from the crowd had been audible. Several nobles had actually stepped back, hands moving instinctively toward ceremonial weapons.
"That's ridiculous," Shizuku had stepped forward immediately, her usual composure strained. "You can't do this! He's saved lives—"
"Exactly what a demon would do to gain trust," Kouki had interrupted, his blue eyes blazing with misguided conviction. "Don't you see, Shizuku? He's been manipulating us from the beginning. Making you dependent on him, making us believe he was our ally."
"Have you gone retarded, Kouki!? Cut the nonsense!" Shizuku shot back with wide eyes.
"Where's your proof?" That had been Lord Commander Meld, pushing through the crowd with barely contained fury. "This isn't how it was supposed to go. You can't just make accusations like this without evidence. You said you were going to talk things out!"
Pope Ishtar had smiled beatifically. "The evidence is his very existence, Commander."
"That's not evidence, that's speculation!" Meld had snapped.
But the damage was already done. I could see it spreading through the crowd like wildfire—doubt, fear, the kind of mob mentality that turns neighbors into executioners. The other Hero Party members looked torn, uncertain, glancing between Kouki's passionate conviction and Shizuku's desperate protests.
"Tell me, Your Majesty," Pope Ishtar had turned toward the elevated throne where King Eliheid sat, "what do we do with demons that infiltrate our sacred kingdom?"
And that's when the knights had started moving.
Not just a few guards, but hundreds. Holy Knights pouring in from every entrance in precise and practiced formations. Templars with weapons carrying sanctified power. Royal Guards moving to block every exit.
The trap had been perfect. Get me into a public venue, make the accusation where I couldn't simply disappear, ensure that any resistance I offered would only confirm their narrative about my demonic nature.
...…
And now here I was, back in the present, with enough weapons pointed at me to topple armies.
The sheer magical power radiating from the assembled force was impressive—these weren't ceremonial guards or weekend warriors. These were the elite forces of church and crown, enough concentrated might to reduce entire cities to rubble.
They can maybe even clear the Orcus Labyrinth if they play it right…
Daisy was trembling against my shoulder, her claws digging through the expensive fabric of my suit—the one I'd spent way too much money on specifically for this event.
Behind the wall of steel and sanctified silver, I could hear the few voices still raised in my defense.
"This is madness!" Meld's voice cut through the tension. "This is nothing but religious paranoia! This isn't what we agreed upon!"
"Stand down, Commander," came Pope Ishtar's measured response. "This demon has deceived us all long enough."
"Rimuru-san isn't a demon!" Shizuku's usual composure was completely shattered now. "I've fought and trained with him! I've seen his character!"
"That's exactly what makes him so dangerous," the Pope replied smoothly. "A demon that can perfectly mimic human virtue, that can earn trust and loyalty—imagine the corruption such a creature could spread if left unchecked."
I could see Kouki standing with the Pope's faction, his face set in lines of grim determination. I knew the kid had a few screws loose in the head, but this was something I didn't think he'd actually be in agreement of.
Is he being controlled?
<
I thought so.
The other Hero Party members clustered uncertainly between the two groups—Kaori looked ready to cry, Ryutarou kept glancing between his friends like he couldn't decide who to believe, and Suzu had gone completely pale.
The nobles watched from their safe distances, some with horror, others with the kind of morbid fascination reserved for public executions. They were all so confident that this show of force could handle anything. The combined might of the Holy Church and Royal Army—power enough to wage war against entire nations.
If only they knew what they were really dealing with.
Daisy's trembling against my shoulder finally broke through my analytical detachment. Carefully, gently, I lifted her from her perch and cradled her in my arm, using my other hand's thumb to stroke her soft fur in the way that always calmed her down.
"Shh," I murmured softly. "It's okay, girl. They're just being loud."
But even as I tried to comfort her, I could feel something cold and patient stirring in the depths of my consciousness—that part of me that had learned to solve problems with overwhelming, absolute force. Whether that learning was for better or for worse, I don't even know anymore.
I was pissed enough that I couldn't think straight.
And then I spoke, my voice barely above a whisper.
"You're scaring my cat."
The effect was immediate and absolute. The entire ballroom on the castle's backyard—a space that could have easily housed a football field with room to spare—fell into complete, suffocating silence.
The only sound was Daisy's purring as she finally began to relax under my gentle ministrations.
Seconds stretched into minutes. I could feel hundreds of eyes on me, but none of them seemed capable of movement. My quiet observation had carried some indefinable weight that their minds couldn't process—a reminder that all their careful planning might have just trapped something they couldn't understand or control.
Finally, I raised my gaze to the elevated platform where King Eliheid sat frozen on his ornate throne, looking for all the world like a child who'd started a game he suddenly wasn't sure he could finish.
"Are you done, Your Majesty? Can I leave now?"
The king's mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Around him, his advisors or generals or whatever seemed equally paralyzed, as if they'd suddenly realized that their trap might have just become something else entirely.
Pope Ishtar, to his credit, recovered first. His voice, when it came, carried a slight tremor that hadn't been there before.
"You... you dare to make demands of the faithful? Surrounded as you are by the righteous?"
I didn't look away from the king as I answered. "I'm not making demands. I'm asking a polite question." I glanced around at the sea of weapons still pointed in my direction. "Though I suppose politeness might be wasted here."
"The demon reveals its true nature!" Kouki shouted, trying to rally the wavering crowd. "Look how it threatens us even now!"
But I was already moving.
Not attacking—that would have played right into their narrative. Instead, I simply took a step forward, and the reality of what they were truly dealing with finally began to dawn on them.
The Holy Knights in front of me didn't just stumble backward—they were physically pushed by an aura of presence that I hadn't even consciously released. Weapons that had been steady moments before now shook in suddenly nerveless fingers. Several Templars actually dropped their blessed blades, the sanctified metal clattering against marble floors.
Because they could sense it now, couldn't they?
But the ones on red armor were unaffected by my release of Haki.
<
"The thing is," I said conversationally, still cradling Daisy against my chest, "I really did come here hoping for a pleasant evening. I wore my best suit, I practiced royal etiquette, I even brought a gift for His Majesty." I gestured vaguely toward where a small wrapped package sat forgotten on the gift table.
"I wanted to be a good guest."
My gaze swept across the assembled army, noting how many of them were now backing away despite their orders, despite their training, despite their faith.
"But you know what I've learned about trying to be reasonable?" I continued, my voice still soft, still perfectly polite. "Sometimes people mistake restraint for inability. Sometimes they think that because you choose not to act, you're incapable of action."
Pope Ishtar had gone pale, but he pressed on with desperate conviction. "Your threats don't move us, demon! The light of Ehit—"
"I haven't made any threats," I interrupted gently. "I asked a simple question. May I fucking leave?"
The silence stretched again, heavy with implications that nobody wanted to voice.
"Because here's the thing," I said, finally looking directly at the Pope. "I've been very, very patient with all of you. More patient than you probably deserve, considering you just tried to execute me at a social gathering based on religious paranoia and the word of a naive boy trying to fancy himself a hero."
I took another step forward, and this time entire sections of the formation wavered, their confidence cracking like ice under pressure.
"But my patience isn't infinite. And you're still scaring my baby."
King Eliheid found his voice at last, though it came out as barely more than a whisper. "What... what manner of being are you?"
I smiled then, and it was not a pleasant expression. It was the smile of something that had spent a very long time pretending to be harmless.
"I'm exactly what I've always been, Your Majesty. Someone who prefers talking to fighting, diplomacy to destruction, cooperation to conquest." I looked around the ballroom one more time, at the terrified faces, the scattered weapons, the elaborate decorations that had been meant to celebrate peace and prosperity.
"But preferences," I said softly, "aren't the same as limitations."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Frost began forming on the windows despite the warm evening outside. Several nobles fainted outright.
"Killing sucks… so I'll ask one more time, very politely." My voice was still conversational, still perfectly reasonable. "May I leave? Or would you rather see what happens when I stop asking permission? I'd advise you against it."