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The modest house was nestled in a small garden at the edge of the city. If asked, the inhabitants were quick to point it out. No reverence. No fear.
Not incorrect. Merely unusual.
There was no security around the house. No guards. No wards. Anyone could approach it.
His skills stirred at the assessment pressing against his consciousness. He considered blocking it - then allowed it.
The room was dark, but darkness had never meant much to him.
The layout revealed itself at a glance. A futon laid with care over woven mats. A low cabinet against the wall. Clean lines. No excess. A large slime-shaped cushion in the corner, a stack of books beside it.
He paused on that detail for a moment. So the creature allowed itself some comforts. Interesting.
His gaze shifted to the bed.
Rimuru Tempest lay on his back, half covered, a loose shirt draped over a slight frame. The fabric rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Too steady to be entirely natural.
Simulated breathing.
A habit, then, not a necessity. Did slimes sleep at all, or was this another borrowed human behavior layered over something fundamentally different?
The slime’s aura was perfectly contained. Not difficult for a Demon Lord - but it required long practice and intent.
Too young for that level of control.
Looking back, there was no dominant aura in the entire area. Not Rimuru’s, not the dragon’s, not the resident Demon Lords or the powerful majins - not even the newly named demon peers.
A directive.
A city safe for weak monsters and humans.
He stepped further into the room. No reaction. Not immediately.
But there - just at the edge of perception - the air shifted. A pressure so faint most would miss it. A boundary, thin and wide, resting rather than resisting.
A barrier.
Not raised in response. Already present.
So. Not asleep in any way that mattered.
He removed his boots without hurry and let his coat fall aside. There was no need to conceal his presence beyond what came naturally. If Rimuru noticed, that was part of the point.
He moved to the futon and lowered himself beside him. Close. Closer than any ruler should allow.
“You sure took your time,” Rimuru murmured, eyes still closed.
He stilled for half a second, then allowed himself a small, private smile.
Aware from the beginning.
And yet -
The slime turned toward him. Not away. Not defensive. Rimuru shifted closer, one hand sliding forward until it brushed against his bare abdomen before settling at his waist.
Automatic. Unexamined.
That was the first mistake.
Guy studied him from that distance. The relaxed posture. The lack of tension. The absence of urgency.
A Demon Lord allowing another into his private quarters. Into his bed. Within arm’s reach. No alarms. No escalation.
Did he always allow potential enemies this close?
Reckless. Or confident. Or something else entirely.
Rimuru did not react further.
So Guy chose the next move for him.
He closed the remaining distance.
His hand came up to steady Rimuru at the waist, firm and unyielding. He tilted his head and pressed his lips against Rimuru’s.
A soft breath met his lips - acceptance, unguarded.
He held the kiss a fraction longer, enough to establish control, before shifting - just slightly - deepening the contact. Testing. Changing the angle, the pressure, the movement in a way that was deliberate.
Then he paused.
And waited.
Rimuru’s reaction came sharp and immediate. His eyes snapped open. His body tensed under Guy’s hand. The push followed a heartbeat later, abrupt and forceful. Insufficient to move Guy unless he allowed it.
<Raphael, what the heck - ?>
<There was no malicious intent.>
<Remind me to talk about this. It may not be malicious, but it sure is unwelcome.>
Good. Fast recognition. No hesitation.
Guy allowed a quiet chuckle to break the silence as he pulled back just enough to meet Rimuru’s gaze.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Guy - what are you doing here?” Rimuru pushed again, more firmly now, creating space. “I thought you left after Luminous.”
“I did,” Guy said lightly. “Then I reconsidered.”
His eyes did not leave Rimuru. “I was curious.”
Rimuru moved away entirely this time, sitting at the edge of the futon, posture tightening as awareness fully replaced sleep.
“Don’t ever come uninvited.”
A reasonable demand. Guy ignored it.
“You let me in,” he replied instead.
Rimuru frowned. “I did not - ”
“You analyzed me before I entered the room,” Guy continued, calm and precise. “You chose not to react. You let me approach. Sit beside you.”
<Raphael…>
<…>
<What, no response now?>
A slight frown as he tilted his head.
Guy's arm stretched and his fingers caught Rimuru’s chin.
“You even moved closer. And responded.”
“I thought you were …”
Rimuru’s expression shifted. Irritation, yes - but beneath it, calculation.
“There was no danger,” he finished, brushing the hand away.
“How are you so sure?” Guy asked.
“You wouldn’t want back all the work related to the Western Nations.”
Accurate. Annoyingly so.
Guy’s gaze sharpened, though his expression did not change. So Rimuru assessed him just as easily - motive, cost, outcome - all processed and dismissed in seconds.
Efficient.
But still -
“That is not certainty,” Guy said. “That is assumption.”
Rimuru crossed his arms. “It was enough.”
Guy let the silence stretch for a moment, then spoke again, quieter this time.
“You allowed a Demon Lord into your home. Into your bed. Within striking distance. No hesitation. No visible defense.”
His eyes flicked briefly around the room, then back to Rimuru.
“And yet you say there was no danger.”
Rimuru held his gaze. Did not flinch.
“There wasn’t.”
Guy studied him more carefully now, because that answer was not bravado.
The barrier was still there. Subtle. Layered. Responsive. Never dropped, not even in sleep. Not even now.
And the reaction earlier - fast enough. Clean enough.
This was not carelessness.
If a fight broke out, Guy would win. Most likely.
But this was not a simple equation. Others were close enough to intervene.
This city belonged to Rimuru Tempest - and to the Storm Dragon.
Raw power, vast and unpredictable.
Combined with Rimuru’s control, his analysis, his restraint -
They had discussed the situation of the four demons earlier with the other Demon Lords. But Veldora remained an unknown variable.
Guy felt his interest settle into something more focused. Not amusement. Not yet concern.
Attention.
“I wouldn’t revise that immediately, anyway,” he said at last.
Rimuru exhaled, clearly done with the exchange.
“Now tell me what you want and let’s be done with this.”
Guy rose smoothly from the futon.
“I want to understand you,” he said.
Rimuru shifted briefly into slime form, then back into a more presentable human appearance.
“Get dressed. Come with me.”
They appeared in the middle of the city.
Despite the late hour, a few food stalls were still open, serving both monsters and humans. Rimuru had explained that some jobs functioned in shifts - security, maintenance, infrastructure. They needed food, and vendors answered the demand.
So not just magic. Actual work.
Structure.
Some recognized Rimuru and offered them skewers of freshly grilled meat. He accepted and shared them with Guy.
No fear of two Demon Lords walking the streets.
Intriguing.
“You say security, but there’s none visible,” Guy pushed.
“They’re around. More on the roads, or near the arena,” Rimuru said, pointing toward the large circular structure, its architecture lit to emphasize its form. “The cheaper inns are there too. Most of the adventurers that could cause problems.”
“Hard to believe your monsters are not a problem. With your collection of magic-borns. And your city has been targeted before.”
“The barrier is improved now.”
Guy analyzed it - a dome high above the city, invisible, layered. Some aspects repelled based on intent. Others contained.
Familiar.
“You’ve been copying me.”
“Learning from it,” Rimuru corrected. “It proved useful.”
A pause.
And worth showing.
Rimuru gestured north.
“There are the cultural districts - museum, theater, luxury hotels, the hot springs. And the best shops. No problems there. If people have something to lose, they behave.”
He is mapping the city, Rimuru thought. Not the streets - the system.
“And if they do not?”
“Then we deal with them.”
A full system - complex, intentional, adapted to its needs. With checks and balances.
Effective in a small nation.
Unproven at scale.
“And there we’re building the railways and the train station,” continued Rimuru. “It will allow us to transport goods and people. Hours instead of days. Once the network is completed, we’ll connect most of the western world. It will take some years.”
The earlier promises in the Demon Lords meeting had not been idle. The slime had an actual plan in place - he would have dominated the western countries even if the Demon Lords had not agreed.
And if they had disagreed?
Unlikely.
Milim called him bestie and visited frequently. Luminous supported him, even encouraged ties between their nations. Leon had his own interest now - the hero remained in Tempest.
Ramiris lived in town. So did Dino.
“How did you convince Ramiris to work?” asked Guy.
“She offered to build the labyrinth. We manage it together. It generates revenue. She gets a share.”
And it keeps her here, Rimuru added inwardly. Stable. Useful.
“And Dino?”
Rimuru snorted. “He works for free. Says the food is good.”
Guy laughed.
Even the useless pieces had been placed.
“So you’ve corrupted most of the Octagram. Except Dagruel.”
“I haven’t spoken to him since Walpurgis. But his sons are here. Training under Shion.”
Interesting.
“They’re learning discipline? From her?”
Rimuru laughed awkwardly and shrugged.
Then:
“You haven’t said where you stand.”
Guy let the question settle.
“I’m considering it.”
“That sounds undecided.”
“That depends,” Guy said, gaze drifting over the city, “on what I decide you are.”
Brandy and sweets were delivered to Rimuru’s house without a word.
No summons, no visible signal. Thought communication - efficient, expected from a ruler of monsters.
The cream puffs were excellent.
“Will you share the recipe?” Guy asked after a second one, more out of curiosity than politeness.
“I don’t see why,” Rimuru replied.
Bold.
“You borrowed a few things from me at Walpurgis.”
Rimuru paused, then inclined his head slightly.
“Send your chefs. We’ll train them. They’ll have to behave - you’ve seen how we run things here.”
Open to negotiation.
Guy leaned back into the chair, glass in hand, letting the brandy settle as he considered the city again - its structure, its balance, the quiet absence of disorder where it should have existed.
It was not enough to observe the result. He needed the reason behind it.
“Why are you doing all this, Rimuru?”
The slime tilted his head, expression briefly puzzled.
“Do what exactly?”
“The city. The nation. This effort to accommodate everyone - humans, monsters, Demon Lords.”
A small pause.
Safe enough to answer.
“It’s simple,” Rimuru said at last. “I want to live comfortably with the people close to me.”
A reasonable goal.
Insufficient.
He was building too much for that to be the whole of it.
“I’m an otherworlder,” Rimuru continued, catching the pause. “I died and was reborn here as a slime. From the same place as Hinata and Yuuki. I’m just recreating some of what I knew - food, conveniences. The rest… follows.”
Guy studied him in silence.
That explained the direction. Not the scale.
“This explains some of your uniqueness,” he said. “The only intelligent slime I’ve encountered.”
Rimuru snorted softly at that, but did not argue.
Guy let his attention drift, not to the furnishings this time, but to the space itself.
The air was different here.
Denser. Charged.
Magicules layered through the room in a way that did not match Rimuru’s signature. Not structured, not refined - something older, broader in quality.
Not his.
Ah.
“Where is Veldora?” Guy asked, tone casual.
“In the labyrinth,” Rimuru replied. “He guards the deepest level. Helps Ramiris from time to time.”
Too smooth.
The ambient magicules stirred in subtle response, thickening almost imperceptibly around Rimuru.
“So even the Storm Dragon is integrated here,” Guy observed.
Rimuru’s answer came without hesitation.
“He stays where he wants to.”
Choice, then. Not assignment.
“At Walpurgis, he called you friend.”
“That we are. He named me.”
“And Tempest?”
“I chose that name.”
Guy inclined his head slightly, considering.
“More than friends,” he concluded.
Not a question.
Rimuru did not deny it.
Instead, he turned his head slightly.
“Veldora.”
The presence that followed did not arrive with force.
It settled.
Veldora Tempest appeared in human form, entirely at ease, dropping onto the couch beside Rimuru as if the space had always been his. His arm draped along the backrest behind him, close without restraint, casual in a way that would have been unthinkable once.
No hostility.
No pressure.
Contained.
“Hey, Guy,” Veldora greeted lightly. “What are you still doing here?”
“Observing,” Guy replied. “Rimuru has been showing me his city. We were discussing you.”
“What about me?”
Guy did not answer immediately.
Instead, he let his aura rise - just enough to be felt.
The reaction came at once.
Magicules shifted.
Veldora’s presence tightened, not outward, not aggressive. It moved inward, coiling around Rimuru before settling again.
Protection, not escalation.
Guy watched the transition carefully.
In the past, that alone would have triggered a response. Not measured. Not contained.
Not this.
“I was testing,” Guy said, more as acknowledgment than explanation.
“That’s enough,” Rimuru replied.
There was no force behind it.
None needed.
Guy let the silence stretch for a moment, then tilted his head slightly.
“Earlier,” he said, “were you expecting Veldora in your bed?”
For a fraction of a second, Rimuru’s aura stirred.
Guy’s attention shifted at once to the greater threat at Rimuru’s side, ready for the escalation that should have followed.
And then -
Laughter broke through the tension.
“Kwah-ha-ha-ha! Is this demon bothering you, Rimuru?” Veldora leaned back, entirely unconcerned. “If you wish to fight, go ahead. Veldora Tempest will guard the city. Do as you please.”
No challenge. Only readiness.
Guy stilled.
That was when it settled.
Rimuru Tempest. Veldora Tempest.
They had named each other.
Mutual.
Voluntary.
The magicules around them shifted again, not clashing, not competing, but aligning - two distinct presences settling into a shared equilibrium without diminishing either.
Rimuru met Veldora’s gaze, steady.
“He was testing me earlier. That’s all,” he said.
Guy regarded them in silence.
Rimuru might one day stand as his equal - not in raw power, but in what gathered around him, drawn not through coercion, but through alignment.
Even the Storm Dragon had found a place here. A purpose.
Still undecided, then.
But he had seen enough.
A variable worth watching.