The fires in Dwargon's evening hearths glowed softly, painting the dwarven capital in hues of gold and amber. It had been weeks since Yujiro Hanma, the man known as the Strongest Creature Alive, made the stone kingdom his personal retreat. Wine flowed like rivers, meat was never scarce, and the streets of the city echoed with nervous whispers. Even the drunkards staggered quietly when Yujiro passed by.
He was seated once again, legs crossed in that terrifyingly relaxed posture, outside one of Dwargon's finest taverns. A bottle of deep-red dwarven wine rested in his hand, the other casually resting on his knee. His hair shimmered crimson under the torchlight, and a half-smirk always lingered on his lips. He didn't speak much, but when he did, people listened — whether they wanted to or not.
Suddenly, a whirlwind of chaotic energy raced through the streets, startling merchants, warriors, and citizens alike. A small girl—if one didn't know better—came to a sliding halt in front of him.
"Uncle Yujiro!!" Milim Nava, the Destroyer, beamed as she crashed into him with the enthusiasm of a thousand suns.
Yujiro raised a single brow and took a lazy sip from his wine.
"Oh?" he said with a deep, amused voice. "The little Dragon Princess came flying all the way here just to interrupt my wine time?"
Milim puffed her cheeks and stomped her foot. "Nooo! I came to tell you what happened! Big stuff! CRAZY stuff!"
Yujiro leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing with faint interest. "You got five minutes. Make it good."
Milim began to explain, her hands flailing around with excitement.
"There was this Orc Lord—no, wait, he became an Orc Disaster! He was eating everything! But then, this slime—yeah, a slime! He just… BAM! Crushed him like it was nothing! And the ogres—they fought too! They used some of your martial arts moves, I recognized them!"
Yujiro's smirk faded into a deeper expression—an amused surprise. "A slime... took out an Orc Disaster?" he repeated, swirling his wine. "Didn't think I'd hear that in this lifetime."
He paused. "The ogres, huh? Hah... I remember those brats. I passed through their village years ago. Taught them how to actually fight. Looks like they remembered."
Milim nodded excitedly. "They did! The big one—ogre—was like WRAAAAH! And the swordsman—he moved like a shadow! They were amazing!"
Yujiro leaned back, chuckling deeply. "Looks like the world's waking up again... Good."
A moment passed before Yujiro stood up, towering over Milim. His massive frame eclipsed the tavern's doorway behind him. "Time to go back to the Forgotten Dragon Kingdom."
Milim tilted her head. "Huh? Now?"
"Yeah. Wine's starting to taste boring." He cracked his neck and exhaled sharply. "And if that slime's got that kind of power, I want to see him up close one day."
Later that night, inside the royal hall of Dwargon, King Gazel Dwargo sat with his two trusted generals, Dold and Kaijin. The three were locked in quiet conversation when the grand doors opened. All eyes turned.
Yujiro Hanma strode in with his usual confident gait, followed closely by Milim, who was eating a meat skewer like it was her last meal.
Gazel stood. "Yujiro-dono. Milim-sama. What brings you here at this hour?"
Yujiro didn't bow. Of course, he never bowed to anyone. "We're leaving," he said bluntly.
The room froze.
Dold swallowed thickly, glancing at Kaijin. The two generals exchanged a look — a mix of relief and worry.
Gazel's eyes narrowed slightly. "Is that so?"
Milim chimed in. "Yup! We're going back home! Uncle said so!"
Yujiro stepped forward, his gaze scanning the chamber. "I've had my fill of food, drink, and silence. This place's too calm. I'll leave before I get bored enough to smash something."
Gazel kept his composure. "You're welcome here anytime, of course."
Behind the throne, whispers broke out. Several nobles and officials had built entire schemes around the presence of Yujiro and Milim. Their influence, their power—it had reshaped Dwargon's politics. Their mere presence kept threats at bay. But now?
Some nobles silently rejoiced. "Finally, those two monsters are leaving…"
Others panicked. "What will happen to our trade leverage without them?"
Kaijin, ever the honest one, stepped forward. "Will you be traveling alone, Yujiro-dono?"
Yujiro snorted. "You think I need guards?"
Kaijin scratched his head. "Of course not… just... asking."
Milim waved goodbye dramatically. "Byeeee! I'll come back one day if the food stays this good!"
Gazel, ever the stoic king, stepped forward and offered a respectful nod. "Your presence honored us, both of you. May your path ahead be untroubled."
Yujiro smirked. "No path I take is ever 'untroubled', King. Trouble finds me... and then it dies."
As they walked through the main gates of Dwargon, a silence swept over the crowd that had gathered to see them off. Even the soldiers guarding the gates stood with bated breath.
Milim looked up at Yujiro, skipping beside him. "Uncle... do you think the slime will be strong enough to face you one day?"
Yujiro didn't answer immediately. He looked up at the stars overhead, his expression unreadable.
"Maybe," he muttered. "If he survives long enough."
The night swallowed their figures as they disappeared into the distance—leaving behind a city that would forever remember the days it was home to two living storms.
The winds rustled gently through the vast expanse of the Jura Forest, brushing past newly built huts, wooden towers, and stone paths that didn't exist just a few months ago. What had once been a small goblin settlement had now grown into a thriving village—no, a small nation in the making.
Rimuru Tempest stood atop a watchtower made of dark wood, his slime body squishing softly as he bounced slightly on the railing. His glowing blue core shimmered faintly in the sun as he looked out over what was becoming his kingdom.
Below him, orcs, goblins, ogres, and newly arrived lizardmen worked together like old allies. The clanking of hammers, the hum of magic being used for construction, and the occasional laugh echoed through the air.
Rimuru let out a content sigh. "Wow… we've come so far," he said to himself.
Just then, Benimaru, one of the ogres-turned-kijin and now a proud general under Rimuru, walked up the stairs to join him.
"Rimuru-sama," Benimaru said with a respectful nod, his crimson hair flowing behind him, "the south wall is almost finished. We'll be able to double our defenses before the week is over."
"Great work, Benimaru!" Rimuru said with a proud bounce. "Make sure the workers get extra meals tonight. Orcs eat like ten people, and the goblins are trying to keep up."
Benimaru chuckled. "Yes, they've been competing on who can carry more lumber. It's… amusing."
Before Rimuru could respond, Souei, the silent shadow-like warrior, appeared in a blur beside them.
"We have a visitor," Souei said simply.
"A threat?" Benimaru's tone sharpened instantly.
Souei shook his head. "No… a king."
Not long after, the skies of Jura Forest shimmered with divine light as a massive Pegasus, armor-plated and magnificent, descended from the clouds. Upon its back sat King Gazel Dwargo, ruler of the mighty Dwarven Kingdom of Dwargon. Flanking him were his elite royal guards, dressed in silver armor that gleamed like mirrors in the sunlight.
Monsters in the village stopped working, turning to gawk and murmur. Even the orcs, once feared as savages, bowed in respect.
Rimuru hopped down from the tower, landing softly and assuming his human form—a young man with silver-blue hair and a calm aura. He stepped forward with Benimaru, Shion, and Hakuro at his sides.
Gazel dismounted in a single powerful movement, his aura pressing heavily against the ground. His eyes were sharp, analyzing every corner of the village, every movement of the monsters.
"I am Gazel Dwargo," he spoke, his deep voice echoing across the clearing. "King of the Dwarves. I have come to see the truth of the one called Rimuru Tempest."
Rimuru stepped forward confidently. "I'm honored, King Gazel. You came all this way. What brings you to our growing little village?"
Gazel narrowed his eyes. "Rumors reach far, Slime. They say you united goblins, defeated an Orc Lord, and absorbed him. Such power can either be hope… or disaster."
Rimuru stayed calm. "I understand. That's why I want to build something peaceful here. A place where monsters and people don't have to fight. A future."
Gazel stared at him a moment longer… then drew his sword.
"Words are easy," he said. "Let me judge your soul through the sword."
Rimuru blinked. "Wait—what?! A duel?!"
Benimaru's hand moved to his blade. "Rimuru-sama, let me—"
"No," Rimuru raised a hand. "It's fine. I'll handle this."
A ring formed naturally as villagers stepped back. Orcs, goblins, lizardmen, and ogres formed a wide circle, their eyes fixed on the match.
Gazel drew his blade in a knight's stance. "I will not hold back."
Rimuru unsheathed a sword of pure magic. "Neither will I."
The moment their swords clashed, shockwaves pulsed through the air. Rimuru's speed surprised even Gazel, while Gazel's power kept Rimuru on the edge. Sparks flew. Swords danced.
Gazel aimed a powerful horizontal slash. Rimuru ducked, slid under, and came up with a vertical strike that Gazel barely parried.
"You're not evil…" Gazel muttered mid-swing, "but you're no ordinary slime either!"
Rimuru grinned. "I get that a lot!"
They clashed once more, blades locking.
Then—clang! Gazel jumped back and raised a hand. "Enough."
The air was still.
He nodded. "You fight not with hatred, but with purpose. I see no darkness in your sword."
Rimuru exhaled in relief and sheathed his sword. "Glad we cleared that up without destroying the village."
Gazel chuckled for the first time. "Then let us speak as friends. Rimuru Tempest, I propose an alliance. Between your people… and the Kingdom of Dwargon."
Rimuru smiled warmly. "I'd be honored, King Gazel."
A grand feast followed. Orc chefs roasted whole boars. Goblins danced. Lizardmen played their odd tribal drums. Even the dwarves laughed and raised mugs in celebration.
Rimuru sat at a large round table with his top generals—Gomaru, Benimaru, Shion, Souei, Hakuro, Ranga curled up nearby, and even some of the orc leaders and lizardmen chiefs.
As the stars glittered above, Rimuru stood and raised a glass.
"We've come from being hunted to being united. From hiding… to building. Today marks the start of something new."
He looked around the circle, at the many faces who had once never trusted each other.
"Let's give this village a name. A name that shows we're not just some group of monsters anymore. A name that tells the world we are a force of peace, of strength, of unity."
Benimaru spoke. "You should name it, Rimuru-sama."
Everyone nodded.
Rimuru smiled and looked up at the moonlight, letting the name roll off his tongue like destiny itself.
"From this day forward… we are Tempest."