After finishing breakfast and receiving nods of approval from the rest of his wives, Satria stepped out with Great Red beside him.
They walked side by side down the cobbled avenue of Neo-Nusato—his pace calm and deliberate, hers graceful and unshakably poised. She wore a flowing kebaya, the intricate fabric catching the morning light like the scales of a dragon in human form. He, in contrast, wore a tailored military-style suit—decorated with medals, yet effortlessly refined—topped with a traditional black peci. A lit cigarette danced casually between his fingers, completing the image of a monarch both modern and mythic.
Though not a word was shouted, citizens slowly gathered along the sidewalk. No one had called for a parade, yet here one formed—drawn by the gravity of their Emperor's presence. Children clutched handmade flags. Elderly men bowed with misty eyes. Mothers whispered reverently to their children.
He did not strut.
He walked with the solemn pride of a man who had faced the void, wrestled nations into shape, and rose not by birthright, but through fire, conviction, and vision.
From a nearby corner, a squad of soldiers stood at attention. One younger soldier, clearly awestruck, stepped forward.
"Y-Your Majesty! Do you… require an escort? We can accompany you, sir."
Satria chuckled, waving the cigarette hand lightly.
"Terima kasih, bung. But no—today, I walk with my people. If I ever need protection among them… then I've already failed them as their leader."
The soldiers stood still, awed into silence, their salute crisp but eyes soft with admiration as he passed.
Every few steps, Satria nodded to a shopkeeper, waved at a child, or exchanged pleasantries with the elderly. His charisma gleamed as much as the polished buttons on his uniform.
Beside him, Great Red leaned in close, her tone soft enough for only his ears.
"Hmm~" she hummed teasingly, brushing a finger against the edge of his collar. "When you wear this uniform, you look so… dashing. So powerful. It makes me fall in love with you all over again."
Satria's lips curled into a sly grin. He glanced sideways, eyes dancing.
"Ah… if this outfit had that effect on you, I definitely'll worn it on our wedding day."
"Fufufu~" she laughed—a low, musical sound like wind through silk curtains. Her tail swayed subtly behind her in contentment. "Careful, my Emperor~ Keep teasing me like this, and I might not let you leave the house next time. You'll be mine all day."
Satria took a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaled toward the sky, and murmured with amusement.
"If I disappear, the people might riot. They'd never forgive their Emperor for skipping state duty just to cuddle a dragon."
Then, leaning closer, he whispered, "Though, I'll admit—it's incredibly tempting. Let's save the fun for our special night… Deal?"
She smiled and gave his arm a playful squeeze.
"Deal~ But..." Her smile faded slightly as her gaze drifted toward the far horizon. "Are you sure about leaving Rimuru-chan to deal with that presence outside the wall? I can feel it even from here... It's strong."
Satria didn't flinch. He simply exhaled a stream of smoke and tilted his head back, letting the wind carry it away.
"I trust her, Red. Rimuru's not the same slime she used to be. She's grown... and this is my way of helping her keep growing. She'll be fine."
And just then, a flicker of blue light shimmered into being before Satria. A holographic screen hovered mid-air, displaying real-time feeds and messages—the dimensional chat window.
"Well," Satria muttered, straightening his gloves with calm precision. "Looks like the world's knocking early today."
Great Red narrowed her eyes.
"Let's hope it's polite this time."
______
[Ding! GROUP QUEST ACTIVATED]
▶ Quest Title: Defend Tempest from the True Demon Lord, Milim Nava and the Invader
▶ Participants Required: 3 Members
▶ Time Dilation Active: Mission world time will pause for all participants' home universes.
God of Hope: "Oi! Is that your country, brat?! What the hell did you do now—why's a Demon Lord attacking you?! Can you stop collecting trouble like badges?"
BangSat: "Don't talk like it's my fault! That pink-haired maniac just started blasting us out of nowhere—and we've never even met her before!"
Ruby: "Ooooh~! Your country? That means... cool weapons! Can I visit? Pretty please? Big Bro Darkest said your place is loaded with OP stuff!"
Kuroneko: "Sure. You're welcome to visit anytime. I'll give you a tour."
Ruby: "Yaaay! I always wanted to meet you, Fran~ 💕"
Robin: "Count me in. I could use a few upgrades—maybe I'll "borrow" some blueprints."
Pervert Sage: "Ohoho! Look who finally shows up—Satria-kun! You've been ghosting us. I have questions! So many questions!"
BangSat: "I've been busy, y'know? Building a country, taking care of my family and… You know, responsibility stuff. If you need help, ask the dobe. Actually… I hereby nominate Naruto to be the new group admin! Long live our new leader! 🎉"
God of Hope: "You really love dumping responsibility on other people, huh? Damn brat."
[System Notification:]
⚠️ Admin role cannot be transferred between members.
BangSat: "BOOOOOO! This system sucks 😤"
King of Knight: "What kind of bizarre kingdom did this weird guy even build? Can someone enlighten me?"
BangSat: "Who you calling weirdo?! Say that again and I'm sending your beloved sister to sleep over at your home!"
Evil Spirit: "Ara~ You and Morgan do have a lot in common, you know? Oh, and I'm joining the quest. I need more coins for my next level-up 💰"
King of Knight: "Morgan? What did you say?! That treacherous woman is with you?! That's impossible!"
Evil Spirit has uploaded [Image.jpg]
(Illustration: Morgan and Kurumi sharing ice cream at a Tempest food stall. Morgan's smiling. A little)
King of Knight: "WHAT?! EXPLAIN IMMEDIATELY! How did that witch end up at your side?!"
Evil Spirit: "Who knoooows~? Maybe she likes our ice cream? Or maybe she just likes me more than you. Teehee~"
Pervert Sage: "Oh-hohoho~ Another beauty joins the party! What a blessed day to be alive! 😍"
White Lady: "I must admit… I'm curious as well. Morgan-san seemed furious whenever your name came up, King of Knights. What exactly happened between you two?"
King of Knight: "She deceived my court, manipulated the kingdom, and indirectly brought about its fall. That woman is a danger. She must not be trusted."
BangSat: "Hey now. People change. Ever heard of "redemption arcs"? Come on, she's your sister. I can send her over. Family reunion time!"
God of Hope: "You serious?! You want to send Morgan to my place?! You're trying to turn my house into a battlefield?!"
[System Notification:]
Participants Selected. Quest Initiating. Please stand by.
Evil Spirit: "Don't worry, I talked to her. I think Morgan might be willing to make amends... Probably. Maybe. 13.6% chance?"
Kazuma-sama: "Coming from you, that percentage isn't reassuring at all."
________
Two radiant beams of light burst open before Satria and Great Red, sending a gentle shockwave across the cobbled avenue of Tempest.
The first figure emerged—Robin, from the Young Justice universe. He wore a Japanese hakama styled like a Shinigami from the Soul Society, but with subtle Bat-themed insignia stitched into his coat. A sleek katana rested at his hip—clearly modified with WayneTech precision.
Then came the second—Ruby Rose, of Remnant. Clad in her signature outfit: a black blouse with crimson trim, a layered skirt, and a cloak that fluttered behind her like a banner of passion. Her massive scythe, Crescent Rose, rested casually across her back.
The light faded. Both glanced around, instantly alert.
"This is your country, huh?" Robin muttered, scanning the skyline. "You've got yourself a city straight out of a utopia simulator."
"Whoa… this is amazing!" Ruby's silver eyes sparkled as she twirled on the spot, taking in the scenery—floating bridges, dragonfly skycars, shrine-trees, and vertical rice terraces glowing with AI runes. "It's like Blade Runner had a baby with Spirited Away!"
Meanwhile, Great Red crossed her arms and leaned into Satria, her tail flicking in minor irritation.
"Hm? Who are they, Satria~? I thought this was a date between the two of us." Her voice was sweet—dangerously sweet.
Satria smiled innocently, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "Hey hey, I didn't summon them! Group Quest rules. Multiversal bureaucracy. What can I say?"
Robin narrowed his eyes. "So… You're Satria. The alternate version of Darkest."
"Darkest?" Great Red blinked. "Who the hell is that?"
Satria rolled his eyes. "Ugh. Think of him as me—but if I brooded 24/7, refused to talk to women, had an edgy fetish, and solved problems by glaring at them from rooftops."
"...Sounds emotionally constipated," Red quipped.
"Yup. Basically the anti-fun me." Satria shrugged. "But enough about the emo duck-head. Welcome to Tempest! What do you think so far?"
Ruby lit up. "It's beautiful! The city, the floating gardens, the fountains that sing at days—! I mean, you're nothing like him. The other you is way too serious. Kind of scary. But don't tell him I said that, okay?" She winked.
"Oh~?" A new voice joined in. Kurumi appeared from a swirling shadow portal, walking beside Morgan with that devilish glint in her eyes. "Did my darling really have another version of himself? One who doesn't flirt, pamper his wives, or play fool? Interesting. I must meet him."
"Hmph!" Satria crossed his arms like a tsundere, his brow twitching. "There's nothing interesting about that broody Batman-wannabe. He probably hasn't smiled in a while."
Red smirked and poked his cheek. "Aww, someone's feeling insecure~ But still… Fascinating. You and him, two sides of the same coin."
Robin chuckled. "It's true. He doesn't show much emotions. Brilliant tactician. Total lone wolf."
"That's depressing," Red said, holding up a peace sign. "Glad we got this Satria."
Satria placed a hand over his heart with exaggerated drama. "You wound me with your honesty."
"Enough banter," Robin said, adjusting his hakama and stepping forward with the authority of a squad leader. "Let's focus on the mission. What's the situation here? We received 'Demon Lord Milim' as the target. What's she like?"
Kurumi tilted her head. "She's… pink. Explosive. Very extra. Think sugar-crazed toddler with the power to crack continents in half."
"…So she's chaotic neutral with nukes," Robin deadpanned.
"Correct," Great Red nodded, eyeing the two newcomers. Her crimson hair fluttered in the breeze, her presence commanding. "And who might you be, little spark? Are you sure you want to join the chaos outside the wall? It's not exactly… safe, ya know~?"
Ruby straightened her back proudly, her silver eyes shimmering with excitement.
"Ruby Rose! I'm a huntress-in-training! Member of the Dimension Chat, wielder of Crescent Rose, and future hero—just like my mom!" she beamed, raising her hand high with a wide grin.
Great Red's gaze softened a bit, amused. "A brave heart. You remind me of someone I once knew…"
Meanwhile, Robin—or more precisely, Dick Grayson—was struggling to stay composed. His eyes wandered upward slightly to Great Red's… overwhelming physique. His face turned redder than her namesake hair.
"Ahem… I-I'm Robin," he stammered. "Just Robin's fine. I, uh, understand the danger… W-What's your name again?"
With a smirk, Great Red leaned in, still linked to Satria's arm like a proud lover. "I am Great Red, the True Red Dragon God Emperor. Apocalypse Dragon. Former Residents of the Dimensional Gap... and the lucky mate of this troublesome gentleman here." She winked at Satria, who gave a casual salute with two fingers and a lopsided grin.
Robin blinked. "No way… You're a dragon? You don't look like one at all! And you seriously don't mind sharing your boyfriend with other women?!"
Kurumi, arms crossed and eyes playful, chimed in with a teasing laugh. "Fufufu~ At first? Absolutely I minded. But over time…? Well, let's just say he's proven himself worthy. And with a little girl bonding… things work out quite smoothly. Surprisingly fun, too~"
"Girl bonding? Sounds awesome! Can I join?!" Ruby asked innocently, eyes sparkling.
"No!" Robin cut in quickly, throwing up his hands. "Ruby, absolutely not!"
"Hmph! Why not?! You always treat me like a kid!" she puffed her cheeks. "I'm older than you, y'know!"
Robin looked like he was about to explode from secondhand embarrassment. "Ugh… That's not what I meant, dammit! It's just... complicated, okay?!"
Before things got weirder, Fran appeared silently behind Satria, pinching his side with ninja-like precision.
"Ow—Hey! I didn't even say anything this time!" Satria winced. He rubbed the sore spot and gave her an affectionate headpat. "Alright, alright. I get it. How about you guide our guests? You deserve a break anyway. I'll be fine with Red."
Ruby turned, gasping in delight. "Wait… Are you Fran?! The Kuroneko?! I'm Ruby! I've always wanted to meet you!"
Fran offered a rare, soft smile. "Likewise, Ruby. I shall guide thee in my Emperor's stead."
Suddenly—BOOOM!!!
A thunderous explosion echoed from outside the wall.
"Fufufu~ They've started the fun without us." Kurumi mused, brushing a lock of hair from her face.
Fran calmly removed her scarf, and a magic circle appeared behind her. A massive black wolf emerged, its fur glowing faintly with enchanted energy.
Ruby's jaw dropped. "WHOA! That's the biggest, fluffiest dog I've ever seen!! What's his name?!"
Fran nodded. "This is Fafnir, my companion. A former calamity beast. Loyal, powerful… and a bit lazy when full."
Satria's jaw dropped too—but for a different reason. "Fran… you never told me you had a fluffy familiar like this?! Look at that face! He's so majestic!" He dropped to a squat, rubbing Fafnir's belly. The mighty beast rolled over like a pampered pet, tail wagging furiously. "There, there… Who's a good boy~?"
Fran sighed, long and deep. "This… is why I didn't tell thee earlier."
"Red-san... we're in a hurry..." she added sharply.
"I got it," Great Red smirked. With a flick of her tail, she snatched Satria by the collar, dragging him away like a sack of rice.
"Nooo—! I'm not done bonding with the good boy! Let me gooooo—!!" Satria's voice echoed dramatically as he was dragged out of sight.
Morgan facepalmed. "What the hell is wrong with that guy…?"
•
The Edge of the Gate Zone—a sacred corridor three kilometers wide. The air thrummed with spiritual energy, bordered by radiant sacred barriers, flickering with divine script. This was the Threshold of Nations, where civilization met mystery, where the past and future gazed at one another across an invisible line.
On one side: a shimmering rupture in space, a tear pulsing with unstable dimensional energy, leading to some unseen fragment of the future.
On the other: a sprawling encampment of the Central World, bursting with life and noise—wandering adventurers, grim-faced mages, cloaked spies, beastfolk mercenaries, and nobles pretending they weren't here just to eavesdrop or seize an opportunity.
And galloping toward it all—on the back of a great dire wolf streaking through the wind—was the Empress of Tempest.
Rimuru sat atop Ranga, her coat fluttering as her golden eyes scanned the horizon.
"You know…" she said, half-grinning, half-nervous, "I really don't need this much protection. I'm pretty strong, remember?"
A shadow appeared at her side—Shion, her personal bodyguard, towering and proud.
"No can do, Rimuru-sama!" Shion declared, hand on her greatsword. "It is my sacred duty to guard you—even at the cost of my life!"
"She's right," added Souei, materializing from the air like mist. "The Emperor would personally skin us if harm came to you."
"Arf!" barked Dawn and Selena, the twin Norse wolf siblings—one shining as sunshine, the other darker than void. Their eyes gleamed with divine fire, a gift from a realm long lost.
"Hmmph! I'm not gonna lose to these two," growled Ranga, casting a competitive eye. "I am Tempest's mightiest fang."
"Glu glu glu~," gurgled Budi, the eldritch horror floating lazily above. Its form defied physics, and its voice slithered between minds like warm mist. It warned Ranga playfully: Compared to them, you are still a pup.
"Geez… All of you, please behave," Rimuru sighed. "No eating, biting, howling, or property destruction today, alright?"
Meanwhile—beneath Tempest's capital, deep within the High Council Hall—the weight of history settled on everyone present.
The walls rose in polished obsidian, etched with 3,000 years of prophecy and data, ancient prophecies meeting crystal tech. Overhead, brass chandeliers burned with smokeless flame.
At the center of the room, suspended by anti-grav fields, hovered a living projection of the Iron Wall—its runes pulsing, reacting to distant spiritual impacts as if alive. A heartbeat in metal.
There stood:
—Aditya, the Leader of Lightborn. A humanoid droid once lifeless, now blessed with a spark of the Golden Emperor's divine essence. He was tall, clad in white armor etched with gold. His eyes glowed with calm purpose.
"Our Prime Directive remains unchanged," he intoned. "The Emperor's safety is absolute. No blade shall breach. No threat shall pass."
—Rigurd, the once a simple goblin elder, now the most trusted steward of statecraft. In his hands rested a glowing tablet inscribed with the Eternal Charter—the bedrock of Tempest's laws.
"The wall's activity… It's beginning to respond to the other side. It's not just holding. It's… evolving."
—Geld, commander of the Brass Host, arms folded, body like a boulder wrapped in armor.
"Our men are calm, but we've detected pulses of magicule powerful enough to destroy country. We need confirmation—are we expecting a siege or a conversation?"
—And finally, Norman Osborn, head of Tempest's Scientific Corps and founder of OSCORP Foundation. He looked younger than he had any right to be—his once-mad eyes now clear, soul reshaped by Satria's gift. The voice of the Green Goblin was long gone. But the guilt remained.
"It's not just power," Norman said, adjusting a spectral interface. "The spatial rift is fluctuating. If it destabilizes, we may witness a quantum chain collapse. But the Emperor's Wall... it's holding. Better than any dimensional lattice I've ever seen." He paused, glancing toward the projection. "It's like... the Wall knows what's coming."
Just then, the doors of the chamber opened with a low hiss of magic and steam.
Rimuru Tempest entered—light-footed, radiant, and surrounded by loyalty. Behind her strode Fran, Kurumi, Morgan, and the off-world visitors Ruby and Robin, flanked by silent guardians and mystic wolves.
Her coat swirled behind her as she stepped forward, her expression calm yet focused.
Rigurd bowed deeply. "Rimuru-sama. You arrive at a critical hour. The Emperor's allies have already begun to arrive. The balance of power may shift soon."
Rimuru's golden eyes scanned the glowing projection of the Wall. She felt it—something immense pressing against it, like a storm cloud refusing to break.
"Let's hope they're coming to talk," she said softly. "But just in case... let's be ready for anything."
Fran gently stepped forward, standing beside her Empress, her hand never far from her blade.
And far above, beyond the edge of the Wall, a thunderclap shook the horizon—the arrival of something ancient, powerful, and impossibly energetic.
The Council held its breath.
Milim Nava was here.
•
The Ridge of Stargrass, 1.7 kilometers from Tempest's great wall—where silver-stemmed grass shimmered under moonlight like a sea of stars.
There, crouched low atop a hill, an elite envoy from the Dwarven Kingdom observed their quarry.
They were no ordinary spies. These were the elite reconnaissance corps handpicked by the Dwarven King himself. Veterans of the border wars, masters of stealth, blessed with enchanted gear and hardened resolve.
Their mission: Find a breach. Any breach.
For one weeks, they had tested every conceivable entry point.
—From below, they tried tunneling. But seismic wards triggered tremors that collapsed their dig in seconds.
—From the river delta, enchanted skiffs twisted endlessly in whirlpools summoned by the wall itself, before being melted by ultrasonic vibrations no living thing should've been able to create.
—From the sky, winged beasts—crashed against invisible barriers, their riders thrown down before even glimpsing the city beneath the dome.
Now, battered, humbled, and baffled, they could only stare at the shimmering barrier that rose like a divine monolith—smooth as glass, dense as neutronium, etched with impossible golden circuitry that pulsed faintly like the breath of a sleeping god.
"There's… there's no hole," whispered the Unit Leader. He removed his helm, sweat gleaming on his temple. "This isn't a wall. It's... a statement."
Another dwarf stepped forward—broad-shouldered, scarred, bearing the sigil of the royal family. He pressed a gauntleted hand to the wall.
It was warm. Alive. Watching.
"This material... I've never seen it before. It's not metal. It's not magic. It's—" He grit his teeth. "Even with my highest-rank rune strike, not a scratch. What kind of monsters built this?"
Then—the sky cracked.
Not thunder. Not a storm.
A split in the very fabric of the atmosphere.
Pressure slammed into the earth like a celestial hammer. The wind screamed. Even the elite saboteurs dropped to one knee, clutching their chests as their bones vibrated with raw presence.
And then she appeared.
Wings of a dragon—vast, purple, and veined with searing red—tore through the clouds. Her descent was graceful, slow, and utterly unstoppable.
She wore sleek, obsidian-purple armor that shimmered like a living stormcloud, lined with crimson accents and gilded edges that screamed of regality. Her eyes—piercing sapphire—scanned the horizon with the cold sharpness of a blade forged in wrath.
The wind parted for her. The earth trembled.
Milim Nava had arrived.
"No way…" one dwarf gasped. "I-It's her... the Dragonoid Princess..."
Milim landed just outside the shimmering wall, sending out a shockwave that cracked the very valley floor, blasting dust, trees, and boulders outward in a circular crater of force.
With a childlike smirk and unfathomable power radiating from her aura, she stretched her arms casually—then pointed one finger at the wall.
"Hey!" she called out, her voice echoing for miles like thunder in a canyon. "You've been ignoring me for days. Let me in, or I'll knock harder!"
The Dwarven scouts could only watch in silent terror... and morbid awe.
For they had tried to breach the wall.
But now… a Demon Lord had come to test it.
BOOM!!!
A pillar of raw, unrestrained energy exploded from Milim's palm—an attack worthy of toppling mountains, a focused beam of Draconic Demon Lord force, cutting through the valley like a divine lance.
The sky split. Trees uprooted. Birds scattered across the horizon.
The attack surged forward and—
—stopped.
It hit the wall.
And vanished.
No explosion.
No tremor.
Not even a ripple.
Just silence… and golden runes glowing faintly where the blast had touched, as if politely acknowledging the effort.
The impact was so anticlimactic that the ground itself seemed embarrassed for Milim.
A heavy silence settled. Only the wind dared move.
From the ridge, the Dwarven envoy stared, mouths agape.
"I… I saw her crack a labyrinth fortress with a yawn once," one whispered. "She destroyed an entire capital in fifteen seconds… How can this wall just… ignore her?"
Milim herself blinked.
"...Huh?"
She tilted her head. Walked up to the barrier. Knocked on it—knock knock knock—like a kid trying to get into a toy store.
Then she narrowed her eyes, puffed her cheeks, and punched it.
BOOM!
A crater formed behind her from the sheer rebound force—but the wall remained pristine.
"EHHHH?! Not even a scratch?! No fair! That was my serious punch!!"
From behind the Tempest border, Rimuru—riding o—riding on Ranga's back with her entourage—finally arrived, watching the scene unfold with wide, stunned eyes.
"T-That was one of her serious attacks," she said, disbelief in her voice. "The wall… didn't even flinch…"
Shion whispered beside her, "…Did our Emperor really build this thing?"
Souei simply nodded, expression unreadable.
In the High Council Hall, the glowing wall projection pulsed once—absorbing and cataloguing the energy signature.
Norman Osborn's eyes twitched as he analyzed the data.
"A Demon Lord… and not even a dent. This is beyond physics. Beyond magic. This is divine-scale engineering."
Rimuru muttered, "No, this is Satria-scale…"
Back outside, Milim dropped to her knees dramatically, flailing like a child denied sweets.
"UWAHHH!! Let me iiiiin! I just wanted to say hi! STUPID WALL!"
The Dwarves still watching from the ridge finally slumped down in defeat.
"If even a True Demon Lord can't break through…then maybe it's not a wall built to keep us out."
The leader nodded solemnly.
"It's a wall to protect whatever's inside. And whatever built it… isn't from this world."
Silence.
Across the lands—on terraces, outposts, and towers—every living soul watched.
Not a whisper. Not a gust of wind.
Even the birds seemed to pause mid-flight.
The awe passed like wildfire through the ranks of soldiers, nobles, monsters, demi-humans, travelers, adventures, and spies gathered on the distant ridge. Their strongest spells and weapons had failed. And now even Milim Nava, a True Demon Lord, had struck Tempest's wall—and left no mark.
Then—a voice rang out.
Clear. Calm. Authoritative.
It echoed from an elevated watchtower, projected across the fields through arcane resonance.
"Demon Lord Milim Nava."
The air rippled around the name.
"You now stand before the Sovereign Barrier of the Tempest Empire."
"We acknowledge your strength."
"We tolerated the strike until now."
"You will not receive the luxury of a second."
"Any further hostility will result in a calibrated counterattack."
"Please state your intent — or retreat."
The voice was not shouted.
It was spoken.
But the entire land heard it.
Even Milim blinked in surprise at the tone — not fear, not anger… but commanding grace.
"…So cool…" she muttered under her breath, crossing her arms and puffing her cheeks. "Why does everyone suddenly sound like big-shot these days?"
Behind the wall, at the edge of the command platform, Rimuru Tempest sat astride Ranga, flanked by Shion, Souei, Fran, and the rest of her personal guard.
The golden runes pulsed below them like a heartbeat.
Rimuru adjusted the hem of her diplomatic robe, exhaling quietly.
"It's time."
She stepped down from Ranga, the wind tugging gently at her sleeves, her eyes focused—not in hostility, but in understanding.
Shion stepped forward. "Rimuru-sama, let me handle her. She attacked our wall—this is no time for courtesy!"
Rimuru raised her hand.
"No. I'll handle the negotiation. This might not be war—it might be someone very strong, but very dumb just looking for answers in the worst way. But be ready. If she's serious about fighting… we may need more than words."
Shion nodded with a hand on her weapon.
Souei vanished into the shadows.
Fran closed her eyes, murmuring a spell just in case.
Even Dawn and Selena, the Norse wolves, stood poised at her side, silent and watchful.
Inside the High Council Hall, Aditya and Rigurd observed the exchange through the live feed.
Morgan Le Fay leaned back, impressed.
"So… it begins," she said. "Let's see how the Empress handles a godlike brat with a short fuse."
The platform beneath Rimuru shimmered.
A golden circular gate began to materialize in the wall.
Runes slid into place like clockwork gears aligning.
Outside the wall, Milim was just about to throw a small tantrum—until she felt it.
The air shifted.
The barrier shimmered.
And from its center… a door formed.
Circular. Radiant. Glowing with runes.
"It's opening?"
The crowd beyond held their breath.
Milim's eyes narrowed.
She raised her guard as the radiant gate finished forming.
And through it stepped...
A small, blue-haired individual.
Dressed in official robes, with presence far larger than their size.
Rimuru Tempest.
Empress of Tempest.
Neutral face. Clear eyes. Unshaking steps.
She walked through the gate and stopped only a few meters away from the Demon Lord.
"You must be Milim Nava."
Milim blinked again. Then tilted her head.
"…You're not scared of me?"
"Not yet," Rimuru answered evenly. "Should I be?"
Milim squinted at her. Then—grinned.
"Heeeeh~ You're funny. I like that. But you've got guts walking out like that after I just smashed your wall."
Rimuru smiled faintly.
"You're not the first guest to knock. But you are the loudest."
Milim put her hands on her hips, still grinning.
"Okay, okay. I like your style."
Then her eyes sharpened.
"But I came here with a question. And I'll get my answer."
Milim Nava stared hard at Rimuru.
Gone was her playful grin.
Her body was still—arms folded, wings flared slightly behind her.
But her expression was serious now. Focused.
"I came here because…" she began, her voice steady for once, "your wall doesn't make sense."
Rimuru blinked. "Huh?"
Milim gestured toward the massive, glowing barrier behind Rimuru—the Sovereign Wall that even her full-force attack couldn't scratch.
"I've traveled across this continent. I've seen the magic of elves, the steel of dwarves, even the ancient relics left behind by the Creator of this world and nothing—not even the Dragonfolk vaults—could create a wall like this."
She jabbed a finger toward it.
"That thing didn't block me. It didn't resist me. It just… ignored me. Like I didn't matter."
She stared into Rimuru's eyes.
"Tell me. Who built it? Who gave you the right to hold power greater than mine?"
The air thickened. Magic pulsed.
But Rimuru didn't back down.
Instead, she looked over her shoulder, briefly, toward the wall.
"It wasn't just me," Rimuru said calmly. "And it wasn't a weapon. It's a shield—for everyone inside. For my people. My friends. My nation."
"We didn't build it to challenge anyone."
"But we will protect what we've made here. That's what walls are for."
Milim narrowed her eyes.
"So… you're saying it wasn't a threat? Just… a defense?"
Rimuru gave a gave a single nod. "That's all. You came out swinging. We didn't."
Milim frowned. The pressure in the air lessened.
Then—she sighed, tossing her long twin-tails over her shoulder.
"Tch. Fine. That makes sense. I just didn't like it. Everyone I asked kept dodging the question, acting like this wall was divine or cursed or whatever. I had to see for myself."
Rimuru tilted her head. "And your solution was to punch it?"
Milim shrugged. "Of course. That's what I do."
There was a beat.
Then Rimuru chuckled softly.
Milim's eyes lit up. "Hey! You do get it!"
"Maybe a little," Rimuru admitted. "So, are we done fighting?"
Milim smirked. "That depends. You ever play tag?"
"…I'm sorry, what?"
"Because if your walls are this fun, I wanna know what you can do."
Before Rimuru could respond, a powerful burst of wind blew out as Milim leapt back, feet skimming the air—battle aura flaring around her again, but now without killing intent.
She smiled, fangs glinting.
"Let's play, little slime. Let's see what makes you so special."
To be continued...