Morning came quietly to the goblin village.
Sunlight filtered through the trees, illuminating a place that felt fundamentally different from the night before. Fear still lingered, but it was no longer dominant. In its place stood something fragile, unfamiliar, yet unmistakable.
Hope.
Rimuru hovered near the center of the village, surrounded by goblins who watched him with eyes full of awe and gratitude. They whispered among themselves, pointing not with suspicion, but reverence.
Tamura observed from a distance.
He did not need Observer Beyond Fate to understand what was happening. This was the natural consequence of Rimuru's actions. Strength used not to dominate, but to protect. In this world, that distinction mattered more than power alone.
The goblin elder approached Rimuru once more, this time without fear.
"Great Rimuru-sama," he said, bowing
deeply. "We, the goblins of this forest, offer you our loyalty. Our lives, our strength—such as it is—are yours."
Rimuru stiffened.
"Please don't bow like that," he said hurriedly. "I'm not… I'm not a king or anything."
The elder shook his head. "You saved us when no one else would. That is enough."
Rimuru hesitated.
Tamura watched carefully.
This was another decision that mattered—not because of its immediate impact, but because of what it would shape Rimuru into.
Slowly, Rimuru answered. "Alright. I'll accept your loyalty. But in return, I'll protect you. All of you."
The goblins erupted into cheers.
Tamura felt the subtle tightening of fate around Rimuru again. Not oppressive—affirming.
The Direwolves returned at noon.
Not as enemies.
A cautious howl echoed from the forest's edge. Goblins panicked at first, scrambling for weapons, but Rimuru moved ahead of them, signaling calm.
From the trees emerged the surviving Direwolves. They moved slowly, heads lowered, bodies tense but restrained. At their front walked a slightly larger wolf—clearly not the former leader, but strong enough to command respect.
They stopped several meters away and bowed their heads.
Rimuru tilted in confusion. "Uh… hello?"
The wolf knelt.
Through instinct and magic, meaning flowed.
Their leader had been defeated. According to their law, the victor was now their master. The pack had come to submit—or be destroyed.
Rimuru was silent for a long moment.
Tamura remained motionless, his presence suppressed to nothing. This was not his place to speak.
"I don't want slaves," Rimuru said finally. "But if you're willing to coexist… to protect this village instead of attacking it… then I'll accept you."
The Direwolves lifted their heads, eyes sharp and loyal.
A bond formed.
Not forced. Not coerced.
Chosen.
Tamura felt it settle—clean, stable, and aligned with the world's rules.
That night, the village gathered again.
This time, not in fear—but in celebration.
Food was shared. Fires burned brighter.
Goblins laughed freely for the first time in days. Direwolves lay near the outskirts, watchful but calm, forming a living barrier around the settlement.
Rimuru moved among them, awkward but sincere.
Tamura stood near the edge of the light, leaning—figuratively—against a tree.
The familiar chime echoed within him.
[Sign-In Complete.]
[Reward: Extra Skill – 「Adaptive Resonance」]
Effect: Enhances compatibility with allies and surroundings. Cooperative actions become more efficient.
The skill settled smoothly, synergizing with his existing traits.
Another interface followed, more structured than before.
Status – Noctis Vale
Species: Slime (Unclassified Variant)
Existence Tier: Undefined
Magicule Capacity:
Stable
Self-Regulating
No Observable Fluctuation
Skills:
Unique Skill: Observer Beyond Fate
Extra Skill: Perfect Energy Efficiency
Extra Skill: Presence Suppression (Absolute)
Extra Skill: Adaptive Resonance
Passive Skill: Mental Nullification
Passive Skill: Environmental Mastery (Minor)
Threat Assessment (World): Inconclusive
Threat Assessment (Self): Not Required
Tamura dismissed the window.
From the village center, Rimuru looked over the goblins and Direwolves—his people now, whether he realized it fully or not.
Tamura glanced at him briefly, then away.
He knew what would come next.
But for once, he allowed himself to simply watch.
The foundation had been laid.
Not by prophecy.
Not by force.
But by a slime who chose responsibility—and a shadow who chose restraint.
The world moved forward.
And for now, Noctis Vale walked quietly beside it, unseen, unnamed by history—yet irrevocably present.