It was evening, and the sun was fading from the sky, its crimson glow weakening as the darkness of night slowly took over. The air flowed smoothly yet carried a cold, indescribable pressure. Birds and monsters alike were returning to their nests and dens, yet the birds deliberately avoided Rimuru City—the capital of Tempest. A strange, powerful force emanated from within, repelling them. As we focus closer on the source of this pressure, it becomes clear that it originates from a towering building at the heart of Rimuru City. The immense aura surrounding it kept people at a distance, deterring anyone from approaching.
The source of this heavy pressure was the city hall—the core of Tempest's administration. More precisely, it originated from the conference room within. The room was filled with numerous chairs and a large table, designed for administrative meetings. It held everything necessary for Rimuru and his subordinates.
Near a brown desk at the back of the room, several figures stood. The air around them was thick with tension.
At the center stood the blue-haired Rimuru—the Slime Demon King. Beside him were Shion and Benimaru, his two Heavenly Kings. A strange pressure weighed on them. Benimaru's fists clenched tightly, his body rigid, while Shion, despite not understanding the force before her, instinctively felt its suffocating presence. Their eyes twitched, locked onto the figure standing before them, their expressions filled with an unusual seriousness.
A man stood in front of them—his skin pale like ice, his thick black hair resembling the endless void. Though his body appeared lean, it radiated the strength of an immovable mountain. His void-like, emotionless eyes seemed bottomless, capable of swallowing everything in their gaze.
This man—Nirvakal, now known as Kaal—was the origin of this crushing pressure.
Behind him stood another figure—Diablo, the butler, the second secretary, and one of Rimuru's Four Heavenly Kings. Unlike the others, he felt no pressure. Nirvakal had deliberately excluded him, for he reminded Nirvakal of his right-hand man. Because of this, Diablo simply smiled sweetly, his gaze fixed on Lord Rimuru, silently anticipating praise for his work.
Rimuru's eyes remained fixed on Nirvakal, even as he felt a slight suppression from the overwhelming presence before him. His eyebrows lifted slightly, his fingers subtly curling, and a flicker of unease passed through his expression. His mind swirled with a mix of confusion, anticipation, and expectation.
Nirvakal was supposed to be on Benimaru's level… so how is he emitting this kind of pressure?
Even he, a Demon Lord, felt its weight—not enough to hinder him, but enough to notice. Yet, what caught his attention even more was Diablo. While everyone else was affected, Diablo remained completely unaffected, as if the pressure didn't even exist for him. Could it be one of his skills? Rimuru dismissed the thought. He had more pressing matters to focus on.
Beside him, Benimaru's thoughts echoed similar confusion.
"This man was supposed to be as strong as me... then why is he emanating something I've never felt before? Not even in the presence of Veldora?"
His fists clenched tightly, his eyes twitching, but he said nothing. The same went for Shion—her gaze was locked onto Nirvakal, her body instinctively reacting to the suffocating presence.
The deafening silence stretched, tension hanging thick in the air.
Then, Rimuru stepped forward.
Extending his hand toward Nirvakal for a handshake, one of his other hands remained clenched into a fist. A warm, confident smile crossed his face as he spoke.
"Kaal, welcome to our nation, Tempest."
A brief pause followed before he continued, his voice steady and assured.
"We have been waiting for you, Kaal, our honorable guest. I hope you liked our nation's hospitality. If you faced any inconveniences on your way here, let me know."
As Rimuru's words left his lips, he kept his gaze locked onto Nirvakal, anticipation flickering in his eyes. At that moment, the entire room seemed to hold its breath. All eyes were on Nirvakal. Time itself felt as though it had come to a halt the instant Rimuru extended his hand.
Nirvakal, who had remained completely silent until now, finally reacted. His brow lifted slightly as he stared at Rimuru with a strange, unreadable expression. For a brief moment, a ripple flickered through his otherwise emotionless, abyss-like eyes. But in the next instant, it was gone—replaced once more by the cold, infinite void.
A thought arose in Nirvakal's mind—Who has ever dared to even meet my gaze, let alone point a finger at me?
And yet, here stood this slime—not only meeting his gaze without hesitation but boldly extending a hand for a handshake. If even one of the deities were to witness this scene, they would have believed that this world—this entire universe—was doomed beyond salvation. And yet, they would have still admired Rimuru's audacity.
But something even more unthinkable happened.
For the first time, Nirvakal moved.
His right hand—still and unmoving for an eternity—finally showed motion. As his fingers lifted, unseen forces trembled. Entire voids across existence shook under the weight of this single gesture. Some were merely pressured, while others—unable to withstand the force—collapsed into nothingness.
The air in the conference room grew heavier with each passing second. No one could tear their gaze away from Nirvakal's slowly extending hand. It was a hand that seemed to carry fate and destiny itself within its fingers, containing powers beyond mortal comprehension.
As it inched closer to Rimuru's outstretched palm, the destruction across countless voids intensified. Space warped. Existence wept. And when Nirvakal's hand finally met Rimuru's, an uncountable number of voids met their end.
The moment their hands connected, Nirvakal experienced something he had never felt before.
The warmth of another person.
To others, it was something trivial—something normal. But to him, it was an entirely foreign sensation. He knew everything—had knowledge of all things. Yet, experiencing the warmth of another being himself was something beyond mere information.
For the briefest of moments, his eyes flickered with a faint glow. A glimmer of something new.
But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone—replaced once more by cold, unyielding emptiness. The warmth remained, indescribable yet undeniable, lingering within him as he casually restored the voids that had been destroyed—with just a thought.
And while Nirvakal experienced something unknown, Rimuru experienced nothing.
Nirvakal did not allow it. Had Rimuru been permitted to feel what Nirvakal felt in that moment, he would have become something entirely different. Nirvakal had already foreseen this possibility countless times and had denied it.
The handshake continued, but finally, Nirvakal spoke.
His voice was emotionless, heavy, and steady, carrying the weight of an existence far beyond comprehension.
"State your business. I know you didn't call me here just to welcome me, enjoy tea, or ask for my opinions on Tempest. What is your true purpose?"
Silence followed.
No one had expected him to be this direct. They had assumed he would be aware of their plan, but to cut straight to the heart of the matter like this? That was beyond anything they had prepared for.
Upon hearing Nirvakal's response, Rimuru was momentarily caught off guard. The sudden shift in atmosphere, combined with Nirvakal's bluntness, took him by surprise. His brows raised slightly, and for a moment, he could only respond with an awkward smile, his hand rubbing the back of his head.
"Wow… This guy isn't just strong—he's got guts and a clear sense of reality, too. Most people would either panic or be thrilled to be summoned by a Demon Lord, but he's completely unfazed. Not a trace of emotion—not even a flicker of panic or excitement. This is getting more and more interesting."
As these thoughts ran through Rimuru's mind, a faint glow of excitement flickered in his eyes. A playful smirk formed on his face as he finally spoke.
"Man, you really don't hold back when it comes to getting straight to the point."
His tone remained casual and friendly, his smile unwavering. After a brief pause, he continued, still keeping things lighthearted.
"Honestly, your strength caught my attention. Your power rivals that of my Four Heavenly Kings—my strongest subordinates. That's not something I can just ignore."
Rimuru's gaze remained relaxed as he studied Nirvakal, but after a moment, he continued.
"And yet, I've never heard of someone as strong as you in any nearby nation. That's pretty strange, don't you think?"
He leaned back slightly, his tone staying light but with a hint of curiosity.
"That said, I'm not going to pry into your past or force you to tell us anything. When you feel like sharing, we'll be here to listen. No pressure."
But even as he kept up his usual carefree demeanor, a subtle tension ran through him. His fingers tightened slightly around Nirvakal's hand—a subconscious sign of his nervousness. Even for someone as easygoing as Rimuru, this moment carried weight.
And yet, his smile never wavered.
"So… what do you say? Would you like to join Tempest and become one of our allies?"
Although Rimuru spoke with a cheerful smile and casual demeanor, his words struck the room with an unexpected weight. Benimaru clenched his fists, Shion's breath slowed, and Rimuru tightened his own fist. The air seemed heavy, and everyone struggled to breathe, eyes glued to Nirvakal, waiting for his response.
But amidst the suffocating tension, there was one individual unaffected—Diablo, the second secretary, Rimuru's butler, and one of the Four Heavenly Kings. He remained calm, not feeling the pressure that seemed to press down on everyone else.
His golden eyes flickered slightly as he observed the others, his thoughts sharp. Why do they all have this look on their faces? He glanced again, noticing the tension in the room. It's like they're being suppressed by something…
His gaze shifted to Nirvakal, standing beside him. Is it because of Kaal? Did he stop suppressing his aura when he entered? But that shouldn't be enough to make them this tense. And if it's the reason, why can't I feel it too?
Diablo frowned slightly, pondering his next move. I should wait for Kaal's response, like the others.
Benimaru, also observing, felt the weight of Nirvakal's aura. His crimson eyes twitched with tension, his focus unwavering. What an immense pressure... The moment he stepped in, he stopped hiding his aura and released it fully. If he joins our ranks, our strength will multiply.
He glanced at Nirvakal, his thoughts becoming sharper. But where did this man come from? Why is there no information about him? Even our intelligence can't get a read on him, and we're known for having one of the best systems in the neighboring kingdoms.
Benimaru's gaze remained fixed on Nirvakal, his anticipation growing
Shion, standing beside Rimuru, glanced at the black-robed man before her, a slight frown forming on her face. Her expression was complicated, a mix of unease and something she couldn't quite place.
A sense of danger radiated from the man in front of her, sending a chill down her spine. She wasn't the type to analyze things deeply, yet her instincts screamed at her, warning her of something beyond her understanding.
Her breathing had unknowingly grown heavy, her fists tightening as she kept her gaze locked on Nirvakal. She was so focused that she didn't even blink, completely absorbed in her thoughts.
"Hmph, why is Lord Rimuru so eager to recruit this man?" she thought, her lips pressing into a pout. "I'm clearly better than him. I can cook delicious food with my skill, I can fight, and I can do the work of a secretary too!"
Though jealousy crept into her heart—especially seeing her beloved Lord Rimuru showing such interest in Nirvakal—she refused to question his decision. Her expression shifted slightly as a realization struck her.
"But since it's Lord Rimuru's decision, there must be a great reason behind it. I mustn't question it. Hehe, Lord Rimuru must be proud of me for uncovering his great intention!"
With that thought, a smug, proud smile appeared on her face. Yet, despite her self-satisfaction, the wariness in her eyes never faded. Her instincts refused to let her guard down.
Like the others, she, too, waited for Nirvakal's response.
As we focus, we see Rimuru, still holding Nirvakal's hand. His eyes are calm yet stern, his other hand clenched into a fist, a friendly smile on his face. His eyes hold anticipation, excitement, yet remain focused on the man in front of him.
Everyone's focused gaze is on Nirvakal, eyes full of different yet complicated feelings—still unsure of his actions.
As they wait...
The man of the moment finally makes his move. He opens his mouth, eyes like a void, emotionless as always. His body, unbothered by his actions.
His voice, emotionless and deep, says: "Three…"
Silence follows...