Disclaimer: I do not own That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime, High School DxD, or any other referenced properties. All characters depicted are consenting adults aged 18 or older.
Chapter 5
Rimuru — POV
The house was quiet. No chanting, no glowing circles — just me, Shizu, and Great Sage in the back room.
Shizu sat stiffly across the table, mask set aside, her hands clenched in her lap. Her whole body radiated tension.
"Are you ready?" I asked softly.
She gave a small nod. "I've fought this spirit my whole life. If this really works… yes, I'm ready."
(Clarification: this process carries no risk of failure. Zero percent. All data regarding Shizu's body, skills, and magic has been analyzed. Separation will be performed using her own inherent ability to integrate and divide powers. Execution will be immediate.)
Shizu blinked. "Wait. Zero? Not even a chance of—"
Before she could finish, a faint mist passed over her chest. Not heat, not pain — just a ripple of air, here and gone in less than a heartbeat.
"…"
Shizu looked down at herself, then back up at me, eyes wide. "It's… gone?"
(Confirmation: the fire spirit has been fully separated and sealed within the dimensional core. Host body stable. Treatment successful.)
She sat frozen for a long moment. Then her palms slammed the table. "That's it?! Years of torment, nights where I thought I'd burn alive, and the solution was just— just poof?!"
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying not to laugh. "Well… yeah. Great Sage already had all the data. Once she analyzed you and your skills, it was just a matter of… pressing the right button."
Shizu buried her face in her hands with a groan, shoulders shaking — not with anger, but with something halfway to laughter.
"I can't believe this. All those years… and it was this simple all along."
Her voice cracked, but when she looked up, her eyes were wet and her lips curved into a smile. "I don't know whether to be furious or grateful."
"Why not both?" I offered with a grin.
She let out a laugh — tired, but genuine. "Thank you, Rimuru. Even if you scared me half to death with your warnings."
(Correction: the probability of failure was always zero. Rimuru exaggerated for dramatic effect.)
I gasped. "Traitor!"
Shizu chuckled, shaking her head. "You two are unbelievable. But… I'm free. And that's what matters."
Her hand brushed lightly against her chest, and for the first time since I'd met her, her posture loosened, like a great weight had been lifted.
Samael POV
The night had been calm. Sirius had dragged me into watching something called Star Wars — apparently Rimuru had slipped some of her "movies" into the core — and Veldora, bored out of his mind, had stomped out of his sulking room to join us.
So here we were: me, Sirius, and a thousand-year-old dragon in human form sprawled across the couch, watching spaceships and laser swords light up the screen.
"This Vader fellow," Veldora muttered, stroking his chin, "he has presence. Truly the aura of a conqueror. Almost… familiar."
Sirius snorted. "Yeah, except he's evil. Unlike you two lovebirds with your… double fiancée arrangement."
I glared at him. "Do you ever shut up?"
"Nope." He grinned wide, eyes twinkling in the glow of the screen.
And then — without warning — a burst of flame erupted right in front of us. A figure made of molten fire, masked and burning, landed square in the middle of the room.
I nearly leapt up. "What the—?!"
The spirit straightened, its voice a guttural growl. "I am Ifrit. Who dares to tear me from my host?! I will—"
"Oi."
Veldora's booming voice cut through like a thunderclap. The dragon didn't even look at him, just pointed a thumb at the screen.
"You're blocking the TV."
The room fell silent. Even Sirius froze mid-snicker.
Ifrit's blazing form flickered uncertainly. "…TV?"
Veldora waved his hand, as if shooing a fly. "Yes, the moving-picture box! With the knights and the space battles! Now move, firefly, or I'll place you into the farthest corner of the multiverse."
For a long moment, the fire spirit looked between us — his fiery mask shifting from rage to confusion to something dangerously close to panic. Then, with a sputter of flames, he shuffled awkwardly to the side, muttering under his breath.
Sirius burst out laughing, nearly falling off the couch. "I… I can't… the terrifying fire demon, reduced to a commercial break!"
I dragged a hand down my face. "This is my life now."
"Quiet!" Veldora snapped, leaning forward as a lightsaber duel lit up the screen. "This is the best part."
Ifrit sulked in the corner, glaring at all of us, and for the first time in centuries, the great fire spirit had been utterly… ignored.
Rimuru — POV
Dinner was over, and curiosity dragged Shizu and me toward the room Samael and Sirius had been using. It was too quiet — always a bad sign.
We slid the door open and stepped inside.
What we found made Shizu freeze mid-step.
Samael and Sirius were sprawled on a couch, eyes glued to a glowing screen where people with glowing swords were dueling. Next to them lounged a tall man with wild blond hair and a ridiculous cape, roaring with laughter every time someone got knocked down.
And in the corner — sulking like a grounded child — stood Ifrit, arms crossed, sparks flickering from his molten body.
Shizu's breath caught. "That's… Ifrit. He's just… standing there?!"
Samael waved lazily without looking away from the screen. "Yeah. He popped up out of nowhere, tried to throw a tantrum, but Veldora yelled at him for blocking the TV. Been pouting ever since."
Shizu's jaw dropped. "You mean to tell me… the spirit that ruined my life… is now your roommate?!"
"Pretty much," Sirius said with a grin. "Honestly, he's quieter than cape-boy here."
Shizu blinked, finally noticing the tall stranger between them. She whispered urgently to me, "Rimuru, who is that?"
I scratched my cheek. "Uh, well…"
Before I could explain, Sirius shrugged. "That's just Veldora. Samael's brother. Loud, dramatic, but mostly harmless."
"Brother?" Shizu repeated, stunned. "You—he—"
Veldora leaned forward, pointing at the screen with all the seriousness in the world. "Observe, mortals! A clash of destiny! The power! The fury!"
Shizu stared, open-mouthed. "He's… he's not—he can't be—"
"If you're wondering," Samael cut in dryly, "yes, it's that Veldora."
Silence. Shizu's face went pale.
"THE Storm Dragon?!" she finally shouted, her voice cracking.
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Storm Dragon, brother, whatever. He makes good commentary and doesn't hog the snacks. That's what matters."
Shizu staggered back a step, clutching her mask to her chest. "How are you all sitting here… casually watching movies with Ifrit in the corner and the Storm Dragon on the couch?!"
Ifrit muttered darkly, "Finally, someone understands me."
"QUIET firefly!" Veldora thundered without looking away from the duel. "You'll ruin the best part!"
Samael groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "This is my life now…"
And me? I couldn't help it. I laughed so hard my slime body almost wobbled off the floor.
Samael — POV
The screen faded to black, credits rolling by. Sirius stretched with a groan, Veldora sighed like he'd just witnessed the grand finale of an epic saga, and even Ifrit looked slightly less sulky.
My stomach growled. Loudly.
"Alright," I muttered, standing. "Fun's over. Time for dinner."
Sirius perked up instantly. "Oh, good call. I'm starving."
Veldora sprang to his feet, cape fluttering dramatically. "At last! The true banquet awaits! Bring forth the roasted meats and sweet delicacies!"
Even Ifrit rumbled lowly, "…I could eat."
I blinked at him. "You don't even have a stomach."
"I could still eat," he insisted stubbornly.
Rolling my eyes, I pushed open the door. "Rimuru! Shizu! What's left to eat?"
The girls glanced up from the table where they were sipping tea. Rimuru tilted her slime body innocently. "Um… nothing?"
I froze. "Nothing? As in… nothing nothing?"
Shizu winced, looking apologetic. "Everyone already ate earlier. The goblins worked really hard, and it was delicious. I… didn't think to save anything."
Behind me, Sirius let out a horrified gasp. "You mean to tell me… we sat through hours of glowing space swords and missed dinner?!"
Veldora clutched his chest, staggering back like he'd been stabbed. "To think! The Storm Dragon himself, denied his feast! Truly, this is tragedy most foul!"
Ifrit snarled, sparks flickering. "I'll burn this place down unless I get a meal!"
Rimuru raised a hand calmly. "You won't. And besides, Gobta licked the pot clean, so there really isn't anything left."
The room fell silent.
Sirius collapsed to his knees. "No… not like this…"
I pressed a hand to my temple. "Unbelievable. We fight monsters, babysit dragons, put up with flaming idiots—"
"HEY!" Ifrit barked.
"—and this is what we get? Not even leftovers?!"
Rimuru tried and failed to suppress a giggle. Shizu covered her mouth politely, but I saw the corners of her lips twitching.
Sirius pointed dramatically at Rimuru. "I'll never forgive you for this betrayal!"
"Then maybe you shouldn't have chosen movies over food," she shot back, smug.
Veldora groaned, throwing himself back onto the couch. "I am undone! Perish, cruel world!"
My stomach growled again, and for the first time in centuries, the great table of warriors — vampire, wizard, dragon, and fire spirit — had been utterly defeated….by dinner.
Rimuru POV
The boys looked so pitiful it was almost painful to watch. Sirius was on his knees, Veldora sprawled like a dying actor, Ifrit muttering threats in the corner, and Samael rubbing his temples like he'd aged a century.
( Rimuru. Query received. There is still food stored in the dimensional pantry. Enough to prepare a meal for four.)
My lips curved into a mischievous smile. Oh, perfect.
"Hey, Samael," I sing-songed, tilting my head.
He narrowed his eyes instantly. "…What?"
"I might know a way to get you guys something to eat."
Sirius's head shot up like a dog perking at the word "treat".
Veldora practically leapt to his feet, eyes blazing with hope. "A banquet?! Salvation descends upon us!"
Even Ifrit leaned forward, flames crackling hungrily.
But Samael… he looked straight at me, suspicion written all over his face. "What's the catch?"
I tapped my chin thoughtfully, letting my smile grow wider. "Oh, nothing too big. Just… a little compensation. You know, to cover the emotional damage of being ignored all evening while you were glued to your little 'movie box.'"
Samael's eye twitched. "What kind of compensation?"
"A promise," I said sweetly. "Something nice. I'll let you decide what, but it has to be sincere. No loopholes."
Sirius groaned, holding his stomach. "For Merlin's sake, just agree already. I'm dying here."
Veldora clutched Samael's shoulders, shaking him with theatrical urgency. "Brother! Cast aside your pride! Think of the feast!"
Ifrit growled low. "Agree, or I'll turn this whole house into cinders."
Samael closed his eyes, muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like a curse, and then sighed. "…Fine. You win. I'll owe you one favor. Happy?"
I beamed, hands on my hips. "Very."
(Preparing meal. Estimated time: twelve minutes.)
The moment Great Sage's voice echoed, the boys lit up like kids at a festival. Sirius nearly kissed the floor in relief, Veldora raised his fists to the heavens and shouted about destiny restored, and Ifrit hauled like a starving wolf.
And Samael? He gave me one long, tired look, somewhere between resignation and affection.
"You're enjoying this way too much," he muttered.
I smirked, leaning closer just enough to make him flinch. "Of course I am. Because now, not only do you get food… but your fiancée gets interest."
Samael's POV
It was right after breakfast that I decided to head out of the dimension a bit earlier than Sirius. We were deep in the forest, where people rarely ventured, and the trees kept our secrets well.
I arranged for a sturdy cart, to be waiting just outside. By the time Sirius stepped out, blinking at the forest sunlight, I was leaning casually against the cart.
He gave it a puzzled look. "Uh… we didn't have that before."
I smirked. "No, we didn't. But we need a little something to look normal when we hit the city. You know, so no one suspects we're using any kind of dimension or spatial magic."
Sirius's brow furrowed in understanding. "So the cart is just a cover?"
"Pretty much," I said with a shrug. "We'll be hunting monsters on the way and picking up parts to sell. If we stroll into town empty-handed and then pull things out of thin air, people get suspicious. This way, we've got a nice ordinary excuse."
He nodded slowly. "Makes sense. So we just toss whatever we collect onto the cart and sell it like normal adventurers."
"Exactly," I said, patting the cart's side. "Just a bit of practical cover. And hey, it might actually be useful if we pick up more loot than we can carry."
Sirius cracked a small smile. "All right, I'm in. Let's get going."
Time skip
The campfire meals alongside Sirius' pestering questions blurred the last two days. The sun was just beginning its slow descent, painting the horizon in warm orange when I felt it. A ripple—faint but distinct—passing through the air around our wagon.
I smirked. So he finally noticed.
Sirius sat cross-legged a few paces away, his brows furrowed, hands held out as if he were trying to strangle the wind. The grass bent toward him, motes of raw mana shimmering in the fading light, swirling like lazy fireflies.
"You're doing it wrong," I called out lazily, leaning back against the cart.
He shot me a glare. "Doing what wrong? I didn't even do anything. The air just—moved."
I let out a chuckle, unable to resist. "Congratulations, prodigy. You've just discovered you can manipulate mana without needing that glorified toothpick you call a wand. About fifty meters around you, give or take. Though watching you frown at empty air is hilarious."
He blinked, clearly caught between pride and confusion. "Wait—you knew about this? And you didn't tell me?"
"Of course I knew," I replied, stretching. "I copied that little gift the world handed you when you first stumbled in. Perks of being me. Honestly, I was waiting to see how long it would take before you noticed. Two days is… actually better than I expected."
His jaw tightened. "So what, I can just… push mana around?"
"Not just push," I corrected, walking closer. I lifted a hand, and instantly the air thickened, humming with unseen pressure as I drew the ambient mana into a sphere between my palms. "You manipulate mana—shape it, guide it, weave it however you like. And there's an added twist: your control is amplified. That fifty-meter range? It'll grow with you. Maybe one day you'll cover an entire battlefield."
The mana sphere pulsed, then dissolved back into the flow around us. I gave him a sly grin. "Pretty neat trick. Though judging by that confused look on your face, I'd say you're still stuck at the 'poke the air and hope something happens' stage."
Sirius scowled, but the spark in his eyes betrayed his excitement. "I'll master it faster than you think."
I shrugged, turning back toward the cart. "We'll see. We've got about five hours before we reach Blumund. Plenty of time for you to keep poking the air. Try not to blow yourself up."
I could feel his gaze drilling into my back as I climbed onto the cart. Predictable. He wouldn't let it go.
"Fine," he said at last, his voice tight with determination. "If you already know how this works… teach me."
I glanced over my shoulder, smirking. "Ah, finally. The mighty Sirius asks me for help. Don't worry, I'll make this painless—well, unless you set yourself on fire."
"Not funny."
I hopped down again and motioned for him to stand. "Lesson one: mana isn't some wild beast you fight. It's the river beneath reality, always flowing, waiting for someone with the will to guide it. Close your eyes. Feel it."
He hesitated, then obeyed. The air around us was rich, the world humming with unseen energy. I nudged the flow, letting strands of mana brush against his senses like invisible threads.
"There," he whispered. "I feel it. Like warmth in the air… but slippery."
"Good. Now stop treating it like water you're trying to grab with bare hands. Think of it as threads. Don't clutch. Weave."
He frowned, sweat beading on his forehead. A few sparks shimmered around his fingertips, unstable, ready to scatter.
"Steady," I warned. I placed a hand near his, guiding the streams back into alignment. "The skill you got isn't just manipulation—it's control, amplified. The mana listens sharper, bends smoother. Use that. Command it."
Slowly, the sparks merged into a small orb of glowing light, no bigger than an apple, yet pulsing with potential. His eyes flew open, wide with awe.
"I… did it!"
"Barely," I drawled, though I couldn't hide my grin. "Now, lesson two. You've got those world-spells from your old reality, right? Try shaping one through this ability. Instead of letting the spell tear mana out of the air blindly, feed it. Guide the flow yourself."
He nodded quickly, almost too quickly, and raised the orb. I stepped back. No way I was risking being ground zero if he botched it.
The mana sphere shifted, threads unraveling as he whispered a familiar incantation from his world. The energy didn't explode outward this time—it curved, focused, forming a razor-thin blade of light that hovered in front of him.
His jaw dropped. "That… that's my [Light Cutter] spell. But it feels different. Cleaner. Stronger."
I clapped slowly, just to annoy him. "See? You're finally catching on. With this ability, your spells won't just work—they'll evolve. Less waste, more precision. Eventually, you won't even need the chants."
He stared at the glowing blade, then at me, fire in his eyes. "Teach me everything."
I smirked, folding my arms. "We've got five hours till Blumund. Let's see how much of a fast learner you really are."
Sirius's little orb of mana flickered uncertainly, like a candle caught in the wind. He stared at it, brows drawn tight.
"Alright," I said, circling him like a bored instructor. "Let's test your control with something simple. No fancy blades of light. Show me a spell from your world. Something small."
His eyes lit up with recognition. "Alright then… Lumos."
He thrust his hand forward, instinctively mimicking the motion of holding a wand. The mana sphere trembled, then blossomed into a radiant glow, flooding the twilight clearing with pale light. Not a flicker this time—steady, pure.
I gave a low whistle. "Well, look at that. You just made a flashlight out of thin air. And you didn't even need your stick."
"It feels… different," Sirius muttered, holding the light aloft. "It's like the mana is obeying me directly instead of… being forced."
"Exactly," I said. "Normally, your spells grab mana and shove it into shape. With this skill, you're guiding the mana, weaving it tighter. The result? Sharper, stronger, less drain on you."
He clenched his fist, and the light dimmed. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he smirked. "Alright. What about this one? Expelliarmus!"
I arched a brow as mana surged outward, lashing into a focused burst. The blast knocked a loose branch clean out of a tree, sending it spinning into the grass.
I burst out laughing. "Disarming charm, huh? Congratulations, you just mugged a tree. What's next, teaching an oak to duel?"
His ears reddened, but he was grinning despite himself. "It worked though, didn't it?"
I stepped closer, clapping him on the shoulder. "Not bad, kid. That's the real trick: every spell you know, every scrap of magic from your world—you can refine it here. With practice, you'll be throwing them faster, stronger, maybe even without words."
His grin widened, hungry with possibility. "Then teach me all of it. Every way to push this further."
I smirked, turning back toward the cart. "We have time until we arrive at Blumund. Consider this your crash course in 'Magic 2.0.' Try not to set the wagon on fire before we get there."
Sirius's POV
I swore I had only blinked. One second I was forcing mana to coil tighter, sparks dancing across my palms as Samael barked another sarcastic "helpful" comment. The next, my eyelids felt heavy—too heavy—and when I opened them again the world had changed.
It was darker, the sun was barely in the sky.. Wind brushed my face as though I was moving, gliding almost. Beneath me, warmth pulsed like a heartbeat, steady and strong.
I frowned. Wait… when did I lie down?
The "ground" shifted. My cheek brushed something soft but slick, not quite fur, not quite liquid. My hand jerked reflexively and came away crimson, glistening in the dim light.
My heart leapt into my throat. I was sprawled across the broad back of a massive wolf—its body it's body glistening like blood.
"What—what the hell is this?!" I shouted, lurching upright.
Samael's voice floated lazily from beside me. "Oh good, Sleeping Beauty finally wakes up."
I twisted toward him. He walked calmly next to the wolf, hands tucked behind his head, smirk plastered across his face like he'd been waiting for this exact moment.
"Why am I—why am I on that?!"
"That," he said, patting the wolf's flank, "is one of my constructs. Blood-shaped, obedient, carries collapsed rookies without complaint."
My mind scrambled. "Collapsed? What are you talking about? I was training—"
"You were," he cut in smoothly. "For about an hour, actually. Then you decided to burn through every drop of mana you had. You dropped like a rock. Didn't even get a dramatic last word."
I blinked at him, stunned. "I… collapsed?"
"Hard," Samael confirmed, clearly enjoying himself. "Face first, by the way. You should've seen it. Very graceful."
Heat flooded my face. "You're lying."
He grinned wider. "Am I? Then why do you feel like you got hit by a carriage?"
Now that he said it, my body did ache—like every muscle had been wrung dry. I collapsed face down, groaning, onto the wolf's body.
Samael chuckled. "Lesson two, kid: mana is like stamina. Overdo it, and you crash. At least you didn't vaporize yourself, so hey—progress."
I clenched my fists weakly. "You could've… warned me."
"I did," he said, all innocence. "You just didn't listen. But don't worry, I've got plenty more lessons where that came from."
I groaned again, but the wolf beneath me rumbled like it was laughing with him.
"…How long was I out?" I finally managed, my voice hoarse.
"Four hours," Samael replied, far too casually. "You drooled, too. Nearly ruined my wolf's fur. Consider yourself lucky I didn't dump you in a ditch."
I groaned and pressed my face deeper into the warm, pulsing hide beneath me. "Four hours… I thought I only closed my eyes for a second…"
"That's what overusing mana does," Samael said with mock patience. "One moment you're the great Sirius, master of magic. The next, you're luggage."
I ignored him—until the glow of lanterns caught my eye. I lifted my head and froze. In the distance rose sturdy stone walls lined with torches, their light spilling over the road. Wooden gates stood open, merchants and travelers filing through under the watchful eyes of armored guards.
My chest tightened. "Is that… Blumund?"
"Not quite," Samael said with a sly grin. "This is the first city inside Blumund's borders. Think of it as the kingdom's welcome mat. Perfect place to stock up, grab information, and maybe not look like you just fell out of a tree."
Heat crept into my face. "I don't look that bad…"
"You look like you wrestled the dirt and lost," he shot back. Then he tapped the wolf's side, and the beast surged forward, its blood-red form shimmering in the torchlight as we neared the gates.
I tightened my grip on its shifting fur. My first city in this world. The first step into civilization.
This was it.
Lantern light grew brighter as we neared the gates, the line of travelers ahead slowing to a crawl under the scrutiny of armored guards. My pulse quickened, half with excitement, half with nerves.
Then, beneath me, the blood-wolf rumbled—and its form began to soften, its body rippling like liquid.
"Wait—what's happening?!" I yelped, clutching at its fur as it sank away under my hands. In seconds the beast dissolved into crimson mist, which curled around Samael's hand before vanishing completely. I landed on the dirt with a graceless thump.
Samael looked down at me, grinning. "Show's over. Can't exactly waltz into a city riding a wolf made of blood, now can we? People here get nervous when they see things like that. Something about 'forbidden sorcery' or whatever."
I scrambled to my feet, brushing dirt off my clothes. "You could've warned me before making it evaporate under me!"
"Where's the fun in that?" He gave a little shrug, already moving toward the gate. "Keep your head down and let me do the talking. The less attention we draw, the better."
I muttered under my breath but followed, forcing my legs to steady beneath me. The wolf's warmth was gone, leaving only the cool evening air and the sound of guards barking orders as they checked the next cart in line.
Samael's pace didn't falter. Mine quickened to keep up. My first real city in this world was only steps away… and I had no idea what awaited us inside.
Samael's POV
The line at the gate crept forward, the last rays of sunlight spilling over the stone walls and painting them gold. Merchants called out prices as they packed up, guards barked orders, and Sirius… well, Sirius was still brushing dirt off his pants like it would make him look less suspicious.
I snapped my fingers, and the wolf dissolved into a crimson mist that coiled back into my hand. Couldn't exactly walk into a city riding a blood construct — people tended to get twitchy about that sort of thing.
Sirius yelped as the beast vanished beneath him, landing flat on his rear. I smirked. Worth it.
"Show's over," I told him, folding my hands behind my head. "Keep your mouth shut, follow my lead, and we'll get inside without a problem."
He muttered something about warnings, but I ignored him. The cart ahead rolled through, leaving us at the front of the line. Two guards in chainmail stepped forward, halberds crossed. Their gaze scaned our worn clothes and the monster filled cart. The look said they were already debating whether we were trouble.
"Names and business," one demanded.
I smiled, calm and easy. The kind of smile that didn't pick a fight but didn't bow, either. "Travelers. Passing through on our way deeper into Blumund. Just need rest and supplies before the road stretches long again."
"Travelers. With monsters in the cart? "
"We hunted on the road and we want to sell them to the guild."
The second guard eyed Sirius, who shifted like a guilty schoolboy. Rookie mistake.
"Your friend looks half-dead," the guard remarked.
I clapped Sirius on the shoulder before he could stammer. "Training accident. Burned himself out with magic practice. Nothing dangerous. Just exhausted. You know how young mages get when they want to prove themselves."
The first guard smirked, lowering his halberd. The other rolled his eyes but stepped aside. "Fine. Don't cause trouble. This is a border town, not a circus."
"Wouldn't dream of it," I said smoothly, steering Sirius forward.
We passed beneath the gate and stepped into the streets, alive with evening bustle. Stalls clattered as merchants closed the shops, kids darted between carts, and the smell of roasted meat drifted from the inns lining the square. The golden sunset washed over everything, giving the town a warm glow despite the noise and dust.
I glanced at Sirius, wide-eyed as though he'd never seen civilization before.
Smirking, I nudged him. "Welcome to Blumund's doorstep, rookie. Try not to collapse this time — I'm not carrying you to the inn."
Rimuru's POV
The door shimmered open, and Samael stepped in first. He looked calm enough, though there was a hint of fatigue in the way he rubbed the back of his neck. Behind him, Sirius stumbled in — and I mean stumbled. His face was pale, sweat clung to his temples, and his steps dragged like every ounce of strength had been wrung out of him.
Shizu immediately straightened at the table, setting her cup down. "What happened to him?"
Samael raised a hand, half-apologetic, half-exasperated. "Before you panic, he's fine. Just… genius here thought pushing his mana to the limit twice in one day was a good idea."
I blinked. "Twice?"
Sirius groaned, collapsing into the nearest chair without even pretending to have dignity. "I was close… I almost had it."
"You almost had the floor kissing your face again," Samael muttered as he dropped into the seat beside me with a sigh. For once, he didn't look smug about it — just tired. "Kid doesn't know when to stop."
Veldora barely paused between bites of meat, but his booming voice filled the room anyway. "Hah! A warrior who cannot handle his own power! Weaklings collapse, the strong devour!"
Sirius shot him a death glare, but it was about as threatening as a kitten with a fever.
I sighed, setting down a fresh plate in front of him. "Eat first. Then argue later."
He mumbled something that sounded like thanks and started nibbling at the bread. Shizu's sharp eyes lingered on him for a moment longer before she returned to her meal. Sage appeared at my other side, serene as ever, her calm presence softening the edges of the chaos.
Samael leaned forward on the table, watching Sirius poke at his food. "Next time you burn yourself out like that, don't expect me to haul you home. You'll walk or crawl, your choice."
Sirius groaned. "You didn't have to let me go that far."
Samael smirked faintly, though it didn't carry his usual sharpness. "Sometimes the fastest way to learn is to hit the wall. Twice, apparently."
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help smiling a little. Between Samael's weary calm, Sirius's sulking, Shizu's quiet observation, Veldora's chaos, and Sage's serenity, the table was noisy, messy, and lively.
Sirius looked like he was about to slide out of his chair face-first into the stew. Pale, slumped, chewing half-heartedly — if exhaustion were a person, he'd be the poster boy.
Veldora, of course, found this hilarious. "Bahaha! Look at him! The little mage is crushed by his own strength!" He slammed a fist against the table, making the cutlery rattle.
"Stop shaking the table," I muttered, pushing another plate of meat his way before he broke something.
Shizu tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing on Sirius. "What exactly happened to him?"
Samael leaned back, stretching lazily. He looked a little worn himself, but there was that glint in his eye — the one that meant he was about to stir things up. "Our friend here got a gift from the world itself. A shiny new skill. He just doesn't know how to use it without turning into a ragdoll."
Sirius sat up straighter, defensive. "I was practicing—"
"You collapsed. Twice," Samael interrupted flatly, then took a slow sip from his cup.
Veldora barked a laugh. "A skill, you say? Hah! Then what does it do? Make him fall over in new and exciting ways?"
I tried not to laugh into my drink. "Samael, you can't just dangle that and not explain."
Samael smirked, flicking a glance at me and then at Sage, who gave him the smallest nod. "Alright, alright. Short version: Sirius can manipulate mana directly. No wand, no chant — just command and control. It's like…" He gestured with his hand, drawing the faint shimmer of threads in the air. "…moving the flow of magic itself within a radius around him. About fifty meters, for now."
Shizu's eyes sharpened with interest. "Direct manipulation?"
"Exactly," Samael said. "He can guide mana, shape it, even feed it into spells to amplify them. With practice, it'll evolve. Stronger range, tighter control."
Veldora snorted. "Bah! And yet he collapses at the dinner table! What good is a mighty skill if the wielder cannot stay awake?"
Sirius groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Can you not make me sound pathetic in front of everyone?"
I leaned my chin into my palm, smiling despite myself. "You kind of do that on your own."
"Not you too!" Sirius groaned louder, while Shizu hid a chuckle behind her cup.
The table burst into overlapping voices again — Veldora boasting, Samael teasing, Sirius protesting, Shizu amused, Sage calm as ever.
It was noisy, unbalanced, and utterly ridiculous.
But it felt like home.
Samael's POV
Dinner had mostly settled into the usual noise: Veldora demanding more meat, Shizu quiet but watchful, Sirius sulking into his plate. I should've expected Rimuru to start plotting something — she always did when the room got comfortable.
Her fork paused halfway to her lips, eyes narrowing at Sirius. Then she turned to me, voice calm but sharp.
"…I can feel it. That control you described. The threads of mana. I have it too, don't I?"
I knew that tone. The one that said she already had the answer and just wanted me to confirm it.
"You're not wrong," I admitted, keeping my voice even. "You picked it up through… let's call it shared integration."
Her eyes lit up instantly. "Then teach me."
I shook my head. "No. Not tonight. You'll end up like him." I gestured toward Sirius, who groaned like the world was against him.
But Rimuru leaned forward, eyes gleaming, smile dangerous. "I won't. You're forgetting one thing." She tapped her chest. "I don't run out of mana. Magicules Breath Reactor. Infinite mana, remember? I can't collapse like Sirius."
That gave the table pause. Even Sage tilted her head in acknowledgment.
"Logically sound," Sage said serenely.
"Unfair," Sirius muttered.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Great. Now you're using actual reasoning. What's next, math equations?"
Rimuru leaned closer, grin widening. "So? You going to show me a spell, or are you scared I'll outpace you?"
I met her eyes, smirking despite myself. "Nice try. But here's the thing — this ability works best with spells from his world." I jabbed a thumb at Sirius. "Native resonance. You want to get the most out of it? Ask him for his spell list."
Sirius blinked, caught mid-sulk. "Wait, what?"
Rimuru turned to him with the brightest smile I'd seen all evening. "Sirius, you're going to teach me everything you know."
The poor kid froze like a deer in headlights. I leaned back, sipping my drink, enjoying the show.
This was going to be very entertaining.
Dinner eventually wound down — Veldora finally stuffed, Shizu quietly excusing herself, Sage lingering at Rimuru's side while she pestered Sirius with more questions about his world's spells. I leaned back in my chair, letting the quiet settle.
That's when Sirius slid into the seat across from me, arms crossed, face set in a scowl.
"…Why do you keep calling me child?" he asked, his tone sharp but tired.
I raised an eyebrow. "Because you are one."
His glare deepened. "I'm not a kid. I know things. I've lived—"
I waved my hand as I cut him short. "Doesn't matter. Until you can stand on your own without collapsing every time you draw too much mana, you're a child. Magic isn't about knowing things, it's about control. And right now, you don't have it."
Sirius bristled, jaw tight, like he wanted to argue — then he muttered under his breath, "Tch. You talk like an old man…"
I chuckled. "Funny, coming from you. Half the time you grumble like you're twice my age."
"I'm older than I look! I'm over 30!" he shot back, leaning forward as if that proved something.
I smirked, savoring his frustration. "Doesn't change the fact that you're still a rookie in magic. Until you master what that ability of yours can really do, you'll stay a child in my eyes."
He slumped back in his chair, grumbling again. "…You're impossible."
"Glad we agree," I said, raising my cup in a mock toast.
He glared, but I could tell he wasn't truly angry. Just frustrated. And that was good — frustration meant he'd push harder.
Exactly what he needed.
The noise had finally quieted. Veldora was passed out in the corner after stuffing himself, Shizu had withdrawn with her usual quiet grace, and Sirius… well, he'd retreated to sulk, still looking half-dead. That left me, Rimuru, and Sage at the table, the lantern-light flickering over empty plates.
I glanced at Rimuru. She was twirling a fork absentmindedly, still buzzing with excitement about Sirius's skill.
"Rimuru," I said, leaning back, "why don't you just let him practice here? It's safer than collapsing on the road. And you…" I tilted my head, smirking, "…could learn faster another way."
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What way?"
I tapped the table. "Ask Sage. If she can analyze the skill, she can transfer the framework directly into your head. Save you the trouble of badgering Sirius for spells like a hungry cat."
Rimuru blinked. "Wait… what? She can do that?"
Sage's calm voice answered instantly: Affirmative. At host's request, skill knowledge can be integrated directly.
Rimuru's face went crimson. "W-wait, this whole time I could've just… asked?!"
I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head. "First time, huh? You've been dancing around the edges of her capabilities without realizing how deep it goes. "
She buried her face in her hands, groaning. "That's so embarrassing… I've been making Sage explain everything step by step like an idiot—"
Sage, ever serene, replied: It is not idiotic. It is… endearing.
That only made Rimuru groan louder. I leaned my chin into my hand, grinning at her flustered state.
"Relax, fiancée. Now you know. Next time, instead of whining at me for spells, just ask Sage to upload them directly."
She peeked at me from between her fingers, cheeks still red. "…I'm never going to live this down, am I?"
"Nope," I said cheerfully.
Rimuru — POV
I was in the middle of the village, going over a few things after breakfast, when I heard a commotion from outside the village borders. It wasn't the usual morning bustle—this was something urgent.
Without wasting a moment, I headed out to see what was happening. As I ran toward the forest's edge, I saw the goblin hunters emerging from the trees. They looked anxious and were hurrying back toward the village, clearly relieved to see me approaching.
I slowed down as I reached them, and one of the goblins quickly explained, "Rimuru-sama, there are strangers in the forest—Ogres! They took our catch and followed us back. We came back quickly to get help."
I nodded, giving them a reassuring smile. "You did the right thing. I'll handle it from here."
As I turned my gaze back to the forest, I saw them: the Ogres stepping out into the open. They were tall and imposing, each with distinct features—crimson hair, blue skin, a silver-haired elder—all of them radiating a warrior's presence. The leader, with his red hair and black horns, looked especially confident, even a bit arrogant as he surveyed the scene.
I noticed three more figures stepping out from behind the main group. They were slightly behind the others, as if being shielded. One was a petite girl with soft pink hair and a gentle demeanor, the other a tall, strong woman with violet hair, and the third a gray-haired man who looked sturdy and calm.
The pink-haired Ogre, who seemed younger and more delicate, was clearly being protected by the other two. Even in their tension, there was a sense of care. The red-haired leader kept his position in front, but I could see him glancing back as if to ensure the pink-haired one was safe.
It was clear they were not just a band of random warriors—they were a group with their own bonds and reasons for being cautious. And now that I had a full view of them, it was time to clear the air and figure out how to handle this meeting.
The red-haired Ogre steadied himself, then spoke, his voice carrying both sorrow and caution. "Our village was attacked—destroyed by a horde of orcs. These monstrous pig-like beasts came out of nowhere and slaughtered nearly everyone. We are the only survivors that we know of."
He glanced at the gray-haired Ogre behind him, who gave a subtle nod. Then the red Ogre continued, his gaze fixed warily on me. "We came here because we sensed a powerful presence, and we must know if you are friend or foe. We don't know who you are, but we cannot afford to trust blindly."
I gave them a reassuring smile. "I understand. I'm not your enemy. My name is Rimuru, and this village is under my protection. We can talk more and see how we can help each other."
With a nod, I led the group of Ogres toward the village. They moved cautiously, their eyes scanning every corner as if expecting danger. It was clear they felt out of place and unsure, like warriors stepping into foreign territory.
As we walked, I could sense their unease growing. They whispered among themselves, and the red Ogre positioned himself protectively in front of the pink-haired one, as if bracing for an ambush that never came.
Finally, I decided to put their worries to rest in the most direct way. I let a fraction of my aura unfurl—just a subtle wave of power that washed over them like a cold wind.
In an instant, the Ogres froze. Eyes widened, muscles tensed, and any lingering thoughts of challenging or mistrusting me evaporated on the spot. They understood immediately: if I'd wanted to harm them, they wouldn't have made it this far.
The red Ogre bowed his head slightly, a flicker of respect crossing his fierce features. "We understand. You are far stronger than we imagined. We will not cause any trouble here."
With that, the tension eased. The Ogres followed more calmly, their earlier fear replaced by a newfound respect. They now understood that this village—and I—were not to be taken lightly.
We'd barely crossed the threshold into the village square when Shizu stepped out to meet us. Her mask hung at her waist, catching a slip of sunlight as it swayed.
The Ogres saw it immediately.
A taut silence fell across the group. Hands drifted toward sword hilts. The Red Ogre stepped half a pace forward, broad shoulders squared, eyes burning.
"That mask," he said, voice clipped. "The one who commanded the orcs wore one like it."
I lifted my hand, palm open. "Understood. But assumptions start wars. Ask first."
A beat passed. The Grey Ogre (stoic, solid) touched two fingers to the Red Ogre's elbow—barely a nudge. The Blue Ogre (sharp-eyed, quiet) gave the slightest shake of his head. The message was clear: Careful.
Shizu rested a hand on the mask—slowly, deliberately—then unclasped it and offered it to me without a word.
I took it and turned to the Ogres. "We'll analyze it now. If there's anything matching the aura you felt from your attacker, we'll know."
(Analysis ready. Requesting permission to interface.)
"Go ahead," I murmured, lifting the mask.
A soft hum traced the air—soundless to everyone else, crisp as a bell to me.
(Result: This object is a suppression tool. Primary function—dampening magical output and stabilizing host mana flow.)
I held the mask out. "Here. Judge for yourselves."
The Red Ogre took it, the weight almost insignificant in his broad hand. He turned it over once, jaw tightening. The others leaned in—Grey's eyes narrowing, Blue's sharp as a hawk's.
"…The pattern," Red muttered. "It's similar." His thumb traced the etched lines, the way the lacquer caught the light. "But…" He pressed the mask closer, testing its aura, and shook his head. "The clown that led the orcs didn't suppress his power. He flaunted it—let it choke the air around him."
The Grey Ogre grunted agreement. "Yes. That man's presence was a storm. Whoever wore this… it isn't the same. The aura here is restraint, not menace."
The Blue Ogre exhaled slowly, straightening. "Same design, different purpose. Our enemy didn't hide. He wanted us to feel small beneath him."
I let the silence linger a beat, then said evenly, "So we're agreed—Shizu isn't the one who attacked your home."
The Red Ogre handed the mask back, meeting Shizu's gaze at last. His voice was steady, but softer than before. "…We judged too quickly. Our grief makes ghosts out of shapes that only look familiar."
Shizu accepted the mask and put it on her belt. "You should have been sure. I would have done the same."
I decided to bring them somewhere where we could talk and indicated that they should start
The Red Ogre squared his shoulders, though the heaviness in his eyes spoke louder than his words.
"Our home was quiet… until the sky turned black with smoke. The orcs came in waves — disciplined, not the rabble we once knew. They burned the fields first, then the homes, cutting off any chance to flee."
The Grey Ogre's voice was low, steady, but his hands clenched at his sides. "They fought with coordination. Someone was driving them — not beasts, but soldiers. When their leader appeared… we understood why."
The Blue Ogre's gaze flickered, sharp with memory. "He wasn't hiding his strength. He wanted us to drown in it. His aura alone crushed warriors to their knees before a blade was even raised."
The Red Ogre continued, voice rough. "We fought. We bled. But… in the end, our defenses shattered. We gathered who we could and fled into the forest. Those behind us…" He trailed off, swallowing hard.
The Pink-haired Ogre, sheltered quietly by the others, finally whispered: "We don't know if anyone else survived."
Silence pressed in for a moment. I let them have it — their grief deserved the space. Only after a breath did I say softly, "I see. Thank you for trusting me with this. You're safe here."
"You can stay in the village for now, I don't want you to cause any trouble." I look at them seriously and continue "For now you are under my protection but this will not continue indefinitely, I will make you a proposal, become my subordinates and I will protect you, you can leave after the danger is resolved, I will give you one day to decide after that if you refuse you will have to leave." I stop and look at them again. They seem confused so I continue. "You don't have to worry, nothing will happen if you refuse, we will give you some food and drink for the journey and then we will leave you alone."
I let the words hang in the cooling air, watching the Ogres one by one as they took them in. The village around us moved on in muted rhythms—the distant clink of a pot, a child's laugh that sounded too bright for the day—but here, close and raw, grief and caution braided together.
The Red Ogre's jaw worked. "Subordinates," he repeated slowly, tasting the word like something foreign. "You mean… swear fealty to you?" His hand drifted involuntarily to the hilt at his waist; old habits die slow.
"No." I shook my slime-body's head, keeping my voice steady. "Not like that. I'll give you protection and provisions while the threat is active. You'll live here, train if you want, and we'll fight alongside you if it comes to that. After the danger has passed, you can go. No chains. No blood oaths. Take one day to talk it over—decide without pressure. If you refuse, we'll give you food and send you on your way. But while you are here, you're under my protection."
The Grey Ogre's brow furrowed. "And what do you ask in return, Tempest?"
"Nothing I would be ashamed to ask," I said plainly. "Loyalty while you stay. Help rebuilding if you choose to stay longer. And if we march, stand beside us. That's all."
They fell into a quick, hushed council—three voices, low and rough as gravel, exchanging looks that carried a lifetime of battles. The Blue Ogre watched me the whole time, as if weighing my words on a scale only he could read. The pink-haired girl stayed close to the violet woman; her fingers twisted in her sleeve, knuckles white.
At last the Red Ogre exhaled, shoulders dropping in a small, almost imperceptible release. The hardness in his face softened by degrees. "We were scattered like embers. To be offered shelter... is more than we expected." He looked back to his companions. "We will stay the night and decide at dawn. If you mean what you say, Rimuru Tempest—then for tonight, accept our thanks."
After that I let them think about what they would do next, I would have liked Samael to be here to take care of this…