Far beyond the stars...
Past the final veil of reality, beyond the reach of gods, angels, and devils alike, there exists a realm untouched by creation's echo—the Sanctum of Eternity. It is here that time folds into stillness, and the rules of existence bow to one being alone.
Upon a throne forged not of material, but of truth, sat Veldanava, the Supreme One.
The One Above All.
The Architect of All Things.
His golden eyes—burning with endless galaxies—gazed into the Eye of Aeons, a swirling sphere of cosmic energy suspended before him. Inside it danced the lives of countless beings, flickering like stars before his gaze.
He watched as Leon Cromwell, the Demon Lord of Radiance, fell. His sword shattered. His pride humbled. His strength, proven insignificant before the terrifying, unrelenting force known as Yujiro Hanma.
Veldanava's tone was calm, yet carried the weight of a collapsing universe.
"Another Demon Lord brought to his knees... another one taught what true power is."
His gaze shifted—now focusing on the slime. The anomaly. The storm of fate that had yet to reach its peak—Rimuru Tempest.
"And now… a newcomer. The slime who defies all logic. One who absorbs, evolves, leads… and who may yet shape the Cardinal World."
He leaned back, his eyes narrowing.
"But can he stand beside Yujiro? Can he understand the force that does not bend, does not yield… only breaks?"
The Eye of Aeons shimmered faintly as more visions played—of monsters building cities, of Demon Lords forming councils, of humans wielding godlike power with no grasp of its cost.
Veldanava's hand clenched slowly into a fist.
"They think they are strong because they have power. Magicules. Titles. Skills. Blessings. Evolutions… Tools."
"But what happens when all that is stripped away?"
Veldanava rose.
The very act of his movement caused the universe to pause. Stars held their breath. Time stuttered.
He spoke with the voice of creation itself.
"Yujiro seeks to teach them. And yet… they still do not listen. They kneel… but they do not learn. Their pride remains. Their illusions persist."
He raised his right hand. The space around him bent. Light inverted. Existence recoiled.
"If they will not understand by demonstration… they will understand through suffering."
"I shall forge a being—not of magic, nor divine favor, but of purpose. One who will walk among them not to destroy… but to strip. To take what they cling to. To leave them with only themselves—bare, unarmed, and honest."
A massive orb of unformed divinity floated before him, swirling with chaos and potential.
"This being shall speak with wisdom, not fury. Walk with form, not illusion. He shall not destroy worlds. No… he will do something far worse."
"He will take your sword. Your strength. Your evolution. Your magic. And ask only one question…"
Who are you without power?
As his divine hand weaved patterns of absolute law into the orb, the being began to form.
Two feet stepped forward from the swirling light—bare, yet causing the very space beneath them to crack.
Arms formed. A chest. Shoulders. A head cloaked in cascading shadows.
His face was human, yet perfect. Emotionless yet deeply knowing. His eyes were obsidian wells, reflecting only truth.
Veldanava stepped forward and whispered the name into existence:
"You shall be called… Atraval—the Bane of All Power."
"The Harbinger of Humility."
"The Mirror in the Dark."
The being opened his eyes.
Instantly, a golden glow around him shattered—divine restraints breaking away. He flexed his hand, and nearby planets crumbled in silence. Yet there was no rage. No ambition. Only serenity.
Veldanava looked upon him, and for the first time in eons, smiled.
"You shall descend upon the Cardinal World. You will not conquer. You will not destroy."
"You will test them."
"Speak with them. Fight them. Strip them. Show them that all they have built means nothing… if they themselves are nothing."
Atraval bowed his head slightly.
"As you command, Father of All. I shall show them… who they truly are."
In the Cardinal World, a chill passed over even the most powerful beings.
Yujiro, sitting atop a mountain cliff, sipping a fine bottle he gotten from Dwargon, suddenly opened his eyes and grinned.
"Heh… i cant get enough of this wine."
Leon, recovering from his defeat, still wondering how is this possible, especially for someone holding an Ultimate skill.
And Veldanava, back in the Sanctum, whispered one final line as Atraval vanished into the veil of time:
"Let the Age of Power end. Let the Truth begin."
Back in the Cardinal World…
Time passed quietly on the surface, but beneath that calm, storms were beginning to gather. The Jura Tempest Federation, under the rule of the one and only Rimuru Tempest, had grown into something unimaginable. The once small goblin village had become a bustling, multicultural nation—monsters and demi-humans living side-by-side in harmony. Roads were paved. Trade routes were established. Buildings rose higher than treetops.
The world was watching… and not everyone was pleased.
Far to the west, in the royal chambers of the Kingdom of Falmuth, silence hung heavy like fog.
King Edmaris leaned over a long map, surrounded by advisors. His expression was twisted in quiet frustration.
"We cannot just march on Tempest. It would stain our honor. We would look like aggressors before the Western Nations."
One of the advisors, a sly man with a crooked nose, smirked.
"Then let us turn the world against them first. Let us remind everyone that monsters are monsters. Dangerous. Evil. They only play at civility."
Whispers filled the room.
"We'll call them a threat to humanity. Spread rumors. Buy merchants. Bribe guilds. Let fear speak before steel does."
Unknown to them all… they weren't the ones pulling the strings.
In the shadows, far from the throne, a mask smiled.
Clayman, the Demon Lord known as the Puppeteer, was the true puppeteer of this scheme. He whispered to the ears of kings and sowed paranoia across nations.
And above even him, another puppet master was watching.
Yuuki Kagurazaka, the leader of the Moderate Harlequin Alliance, had already made his move. A merchant, trusted by the Holy Church, carried a carefully fabricated message to Hinata Sakaguchi, the Captain of the Crusaders.
"It was Rimuru," the merchant whispered solemnly. "The one who killed your master—Shizu."
Hinata's fingers trembled slightly, her eyes clouded with doubt and rising anger.
"A monster… wearing her face."
The seed had been planted.
Unaware of the growing threats, Rimuru stood on the balcony of his castle, eyes scanning the horizon. The wind brushed through his blue slime form—resting in his human shape, arms folded behind his back.
Beside him stood Benimaru, the ever-loyal general, and Shion, who always stood just a little too close, arms crossed and staring at Rimuru with a smile like she was guarding the crown jewel of the world.
"We'll be heading to Blumund soon," Rimuru said, his voice thoughtful. "I promised Shizu I'd help those kids. I can't delay it anymore."
Benimaru nodded. "We'll keep Tempest safe."
Rimuru turned to the side… but paused.
Where was Milim?
Milim, the Demon Lord of Destruction, had been living in Tempest like a whirlwind of joy and chaos. Her laughter echoed in the city. Her appetite emptied pantries. But this morning… she was gone.
No goodbyes. No warning. Just like how she came—she vanished.
Rimuru looked at the small crater where she usually crash-landed every few days.
"So... she left," he said with a smile, one filled with a bit of sadness. "Guess she got bored."
But that wasn't quite true.
The skies above the Forgotten Dragon Kingdom roared as a violet comet tore through the clouds. Wind spiraled. Thunder cracked without lightning. And then—
BOOM!!!
A massive shockwave echoed across the mountain ranges as Milim landed, blasting dust in every direction, scattering the warriors in the courtyard.
Middray, the Dragon Bishop, stumbled back but laughed heartily.
"Of course, it's her."
He was just in the middle of telling the dragonkin elders the story.
"I swear on my scales! Yujiro took down the Demon Lord Leon Cromwell like it was nothing! Leon tried everything—flames, light, speed—but Yujiro just laughed. One punch—BOOM—Leon hit the wall like a broken statue."
An old warrior's jaw dropped. "Im not surprised he did beat even Lady Milim…"
"I saw it with my own eyes!" Middray clapped his hands. "Leon, the radiant sword of El Dorado, folded like paper!"
Milim's eyes widened.
"UNCLE!!!"
She zoomed off before anyone could say another word.
Deep within the secluded mountain monastery, Yujiro Hanma sat cross-legged on a stone platform, eyes closed, meditating. His muscles didn't rest—they pulsed with an aura that made even dragons hesitate to approach him.
Milim burst in.
"UNCLE!!" she yelled. "You fought Leon and didn't tell me?!"
Yujiro's eyes opened slowly. A faint smile curled on his lips.
"You were busy playing with your little slime friend."
"But I wanted to fight too!!" Milim stomped.
Yujiro shrugged.
"I was itching for something serious. Leon was the last of the so-called 'strong Demon Lords' I hadn't taught a lesson to. Thought I'd check his spine."
"And?"
Yujiro grinned wide.
"No spine."
Milim laughed, flipping and landing in front of him.
"You're the worst, Uncle Yujiro!"