Tempest Science Foundation – Mess Hall
The double doors slid open with a soft swish, and every head in the bustling mess hall turned. The hum of conversation stilled. Engineers in sleek white coats, TSF officers in silver uniforms, dwarves with oil-stained aprons, and even alien technicians froze mid-task.
Then, as one, they stood and saluted.
"Your Majesty! Lady Red!"
Satria stepped in, his military-styled suit crisp, black peci tilted just so—a man who could topple kingdoms and still look like he was heading to a café. Beside him, Great Red glided like molten royalty in crimson kebaya, her aura radiant, her smile sharp enough to cut steel.
He raised a casual hand.
"Relax, folks. Carry on."
The workers obeyed—though whispers buzzed as he and Red strode deeper into the hall. A cluster of engineers rushed forward, excitement blazing in their eyes.
"Your Majesty! We finally did it!"
"Hm? Oh… you must be Norman's recruit. Pierre Raoult, right? Are you enjoying your stay here?"
"Oui! That is me!" The blonde man beamed, nearly vibrating with excitement. "Mon dieu… at first, I was—how you say—terrified. I mean, working next to… ah, how do I put it politely… Characters from a fantasy story?!"
The room chuckled softly.
Pierre spread his arms dramatically.
"But then… I discovered—they are not so different from us! With the dwarves' metallurgy, your designs, and our combined genius… we have done it! A quantum drive, Your Majesty! For real!"
The hall buzzed. Even Great Red tilted her head, intrigued.
Satria gave a lazy grin.
"Glad to hear it." Satria clapped him on the shoulder. "As promised, you'll be rewarded. Want to go home? Back to France?"
"Return? Non! I would be stupide—crazy! Here, I have more than I ever dreamed of. Opportunity! Discovery! Back home? Pfft. Taxes and boring conferences. Here? I drink tea with aliens!"
Great Red smirked. "He's got a point."
Pierre stepped closer, lowering his voice, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"Your Majesty…" Pierre grinned sheepishly, then hesitated. "May I ask something from you for my reward? A question. Maybe two?"
"Shoot."
"Are you… truly human?" His voice dropped. "Because the rumor says—you walk with the Legendary figure from my homeland."
Satria tilted his head. "You mean Jeanne? Yeah, she's around. Why?"
"Jeanne d'Arc." Pierre whispered the name like a prayer. "Dead for centuries. Yet breathing. Eating. Laughing here. How?"
Satria shrugged. "I gave her another chance. She deserved it."
Pierre ran a hand through his hair.
"Mon dieu. I am agnostic, you know? But… to see her alive, serving you… I have another questions. May I ask?"
Satria smirked. "Go ahead. Knowledge is a good reward."
Pierre raised one trembling finger.
"Can you… walk on water?"
Satria blinked. "…Yeah. That's not even difficult, man. Technology can do that too."
The scientist froze. "O-Okay… What about this? Can you… create food—right now—without a preparation?"
Satria tilted his head. "Huh? That's oddly specific. But sure."
He raised his hand. Molecules shimmered like stardust, rearranging themselves in mid-air until a steaming plate of crêpes Suzette appeared in Pierre's hands.
Gasps rippled through the mess hall. Scientists dropped their tablets. Engineers froze mid-bite.
"You guys want some too?" Satria asked, almost annoyed by their stunned silence.
Half the room raised their hands timidly. With a sigh, he conjured a buffet that could feed an army. The smell of fresh bread and seared meat filled the hall.
Pierre's jaw hung open. Then—he did something insane. He snatched a knife from the table and slashed his own palm.
"Agh! It hurts!"
Satria nearly choked on his throat. "What the hell, dude?!"
Pierre thrust his bleeding hand toward him, eyes wild.
"Heal me, Your Majesty! Please!"
With a tired groan, Satria touched the wound—flesh knitted instantly, leaving smooth skin.
The hall erupted in whispers.
Pierre staggered back, face pale.
"Impossible… All this miracle… and the fact you—you resurrected Jeanne d'Arc back to life?! Mon dieu…"
His voice cracked with awe as he pointed a trembling finger.
"Are you… the reincarnation of Jesus Christ? Oui?!"
The entire hall fell silent. You could hear a pin drop.
Satria dragged a hand down his face.
"What?! No! How many times do I have to say this—I'm just a regular guy with… some tricks. No divinity, no halo, nothing!"
That was when another voice—deep, commanding—cut through the noise.
"You are wrong!"
All heads turned to see a tall Middle Eastern man in a white lab-suit, eyes burning with conviction.
"Lord Satria is Muslim like me. I believe… he is the Imam Mahdi—the one who will unite the believers under one banner!"
Gasps and shouts exploded.
"He is indeed the Chosen One!"
"It makes sense!"
"He's clearly a God disguised as mortal!"
Satria slammed his palm against the table, smoke curling around his irritated glare.
"Neither! C'mon—I'm not a chosen one, not a prophet, not whatever you're cooking up in your heads."
Great Red chuckled from beside him, her sultry voice like honey.
"Oh, darling… your humility only makes them worship you more."
Satria groaned. "Perfect. Just what I needed—an identity crisis I didn't sign up for."
They moved deeper into the building, the polished floors reflecting the soft glow of luminescent panels overhead. Great Red's crimson hair shimmered like fire against the sterile white walls and the sleek, futuristic machinery lining the corridors.
"So… what exactly are we doing here?" Great Red asked, her curious eyes darting from one strange device to another. "From what I know, this world still stands on the edge between swords and sorcery… Are you sure you want to introduce all of this here?" Her tone was part curiosity, part concern, as she gestured to the humming consoles and holographic interfaces.
Satria walked beside her, hands folded behind his back, exhaling a thin stream of cigarette smoke. His expression was calm but thoughtful.
"Depends," he said. "The majority of people in this world aren't ready for this kind of technology. Too much knowledge without wisdom only leads to endless wars, corruption, and the hunger for power."
They passed through the corridor where a team of engineers worked around a hovering 3D hologram of a glowing energy reactor. The group was an unusual mix — dwarves with soot-stained hands, humans in sleek lab coats, and even a humanoid tyranid that had evolved into a Nyx species, its carapace glistening under the sterile lights. Upon seeing Satria and Great Red, all of them paused and gave a respectful bow before returning to their work.
Satria glanced briefly at the holographic reactor before speaking in a low, serious tone. "From what I've seen, the CCP version of this world — the Eastern Empire — knows exactly how dangerous science becomes when it's fused with supernatural power. They've been quiet lately, but I don't trust that silence. Their leader hasn't resurfaced yet, but…" He smirked faintly, a sharp glint in his eyes. "I've sent a few of my clones and drones into their territory. Let's just say, I don't like what I've found there."
Great Red tilted her head, her crimson hair swaying like fire as she smiled knowingly. "Spying, huh? My darling Emperor… always five steps ahead."
They arrived at a set of massive glass doors that opened with a soft whoosh. Beyond the threshold was a colossal chamber — its walls a fluid canvas of shifting light.
When Satria clapped his hands once, the entire room transformed. Trees sprouted in seconds, branches stretching toward a painted-blue sky. The scent of pine and fresh rain filled the air as a soft breeze rustled the leaves.
Great Red blinked, her scarlet eyes widening. She knelt slightly, running her fingers over the cool grass. "This… This reminds me of the games the devils made in my world… What was it called again… Ah, Rating Games."
"Similar, but far more advanced," Satria replied with a casual smile, his hands tucked in his pockets as he stepped onto the lush greenery. "This is the Environmental Simulator — one of our most powerful creations. It's designed for combat training, tactical planning… even diplomacy rehearsals. We call it the Hybrid Simulation Arena, or HSA."
Red tilted her head, intrigued. "Hybrid Simulation Arena? What makes it so special?"
Satria grinned. "Think of it as a fusion of two worlds — quantum holographic tech and dimensional magic. We took the concept of DxD's Rating Game Arena and upgraded it with High-grade technology. What you see here isn't just an illusion. This environment is real enough to fight in, destroy, and rebuild instantly. You can train here as if it's life or death — or relax like you're on vacation."
How the HSA Works (Satria's Explanation)
1. Dimensional Core
Uses magic to create a pocket dimension.
The arena can expand far beyond this dome — even simulating entire cities, mountains, or planets.
2. Quantum Matter Fabricators
Creates real objects or solid "hard-light" projections.
If something is destroyed in combat, it's instantly rebuilt.
3. Reality Control AI
An AI-magic hybrid system that runs everything.
It can create smart NPCs, adjust difficulty, or reshape the battlefield on command.
4. Safety Modes
Simulation Mode: No real injuries. Everything feels real but doesn't cause harm.
Reality Mode: True damage, true destruction — like a real battlefield, but with healing tech to restore participants afterward.
Red smirked, flicking her tail playfully. "So… I could face 10,000 cannon fodder here and burn them to ash, and it would all reset like nothing happened?"
"Exactly," Satria chuckled. "This system was built to handle dragonfire, nuclear spells, and worse. You could even try fighting a clone of yourself — or me, if you're feeling bold."
"Hmph, tempting… but I'd rather not roast my future husband just yet," Red teased, her lips curling into a sly grin.
Satria smirked back. "Good answer. Still, we're planning to use this tech not just for training but for diplomacy and tournaments. One day, I might even invite other worlds for cross-dimensional games."
"So… what are we doing here, my boy?" Great Red asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and amusement as her scarlet eyes followed Satria's movements.
Without a word, Satria raised his hand. Golden sparks crackled in his palm as a strange, futuristic device materialized — sleek, metallic, and glowing with intricate runic patterns.
"Oh? What's that?" Red tilted her head, intrigued.
"This," Satria said with a grin, "is the Emperor Lancer. Originally, it belonged to someone called Ultraman Victory. Let's just say I… borrowed the concept and rebuilt it, customized it for my own style."
"And… how does it work?" Red asked, stepping closer, her curiosity flaring.
"Unlike a normal contract or pact system, this thing can digitize any creature's abilities — their power, their essence — and materialize unique parts of them as weapons or tools." He twirled the Emperor Lancer in his hand, its crystal core pulsing like a heartbeat. "The original Victory Lancer could only use fragments of a monster's power, but with my modifications? I can fully channel it — almost like fusing with them. You know what I mean?"
Red raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh? Sounds like you're asking me something, my boy."
Satria chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah… I don't want to do this without your permission. You're soon to be part of my family, and this is the first time I'm using this device. So… what do you say? Will you let me scan you?"
Great Red's lips curled into a playful smile, her tail flicking. "Fufufufu… How considerate of you~ Of course, my boy. Do as you please."
Satria pointed the Emperor Lancer at her. The device flared to life, projecting a warm golden beam that enveloped Great Red like sunlight on water. The scanner's crystal shifted to a deep crimson, etching her essence into the Emperor Card. For a split second, her energy rushed into Satria — wild, overwhelming, divine.
The world seemed to tremble as Satria's body ignited with radiant Victorium energy. A flash of light transformed him into his Ultraman Legend form, his armor bearing a dragonic motif — sharp lines, blazing crimson highlights, and wings of shimmering light.
In his hands appeared a bizarre yet awe-inspiring weapon: a guitar-shaped armament, its body shaped like a dragon's skull, strings humming with sonic energy, and the neck tipped with a blade.
"…Okay, but… why a guitar?" Satria blinked, tilting his head.
Great Red giggled, crossing her arms with a knowing smirk. "Maybe... Because I am the Dragon of Dreams, darling. Music is part of my essence — nothing says 'rock your enemies into oblivion' quite like a guitar that doubles as a weapon."
Satria plucked one of the strings experimentally — the single note resonated like a thunderclap, sending a shockwave through the air. He grinned. "Alright… I can live with that."
Satria strummed the guitar again, this time with more force. The strings flared with crimson energy, each note exploding into rippling waves of dragonfire and sonic shock. The sound wasn't just heard — it was felt, vibrating through the ground, the walls, even the air itself.
"Whoa…" Satria muttered, staring at the glowing strings. "This thing… it's like a mix between a flamethrower and a concert on steroids."
He swung the Emperor Guitar like a blade, and with a downward chord, a crescent of blazing energy roared forward, cutting through the simulated forest around them. Trees shattered into glowing embers — only to be instantly reconstructed by the Environmental Simulator.
Great Red watched, her arms crossed and a sly smile on her lips. "Not bad, my boy. But you're still playing like an amateur. A real dragon… rocks harder."
"Oh, is that a challenge?" Satria grinned, rolling his shoulders. He adjusted his stance and strummed a rapid, fierce riff. Each note birthed a flurry of flaming dragon silhouettes that spiraled skyward before bursting into crackling fireworks.
Great Red's tail wagged with amusement. "Fufufufu… impressive. You've got some fire in you. But if you're going to wield my essence, you'd better learn to own it." She stepped closer, placing a hand on his chest, her voice dropping to a teasing purr. "Maybe we should start a band — just you and me. We could call it…" she paused, her smirk widening, "…'Apocalypse Symphony.'"
Satria laughed. "Sounds like the kind of band that doesn't sell albums — it conquers kingdoms." He played a short riff, and a shockwave of sound carved a deep trench through the holographic landscape. "Heh. I think I like this thing already."
Great Red tilted her head, her eyes gleaming. "Oh? Then why don't you give me a real performance, my boy? Let me see if you can make me feel the music."
"You're asking for it." Satria raised the Emperor Guitar and began playing, each note blending with Victorium energy until the sound became something primal — a mixture of roaring flames, dragon roars, and a rhythm that shook the air like a heartbeat.
The Environmental Simulator reacted, the forest shifting into a volcanic battlefield. Lava surged with each strum, molten geysers erupting in sync with his chords. Great Red laughed, her aura flaring, and for a moment it was less a jam session and more a battle concert.
•
Outside the Wall of Dzulkarnaen
Milim's smirk was sharp enough to cut steel.
"That depends. You ever play tag?"
Rimuru blinked. "…I'm sorry, what?"
Milim crouched, the ground beneath her boots cracking from the sheer force radiating from her tiny frame. "Because if your walls are this fun…" — she flashed a grin, fangs gleaming — "…I wanna know what you can do."
Before Rimuru could respond, a sudden burst of wind erupted — Milim had leapt back, hovering midair like a predator sizing up its prey. Her battle aura flared once more, this time without malice, but with the pure, exhilarating intent of a warrior hungry for a worthy challenge.
"Let's play, little slime. Let's see what makes you so special."
[Raphael: "Master, I suggest engaging her with caution. Based on energy readings, she is currently operating at 18% of her full power. Even this is enough to destroy half of Tempest if mishandled."]
"Eighteen percent?!" Rimuru nearly faceplanted. "She's holding back that much?!"
[Raphael: "Indeed. However, I believe this is an opportunity to demonstrate the results of our training with our Husband."]
"O-Okay, wait a second—" Rimuru stammered, her slimy form rippling in frustration. "Why are you already calling my Satria your husband?!"
[Raphael: "Do not worry about such small details, Master. Focus on the enemy in front of you. She probably still a bit stronger than you… currently."]
"Ugh, I hate it when you sound so calm about this stuff." Rimuru sighed, her core glowing as she shifted into a combat stance. "Alright, bring it on, pinkie. But don't cry if I wipe the floor with you."
Milim laughed, her voice ringing like a bell. "Oh? Big words for a squishy little slime! But let's see if you can back them up!"
She shot forward in a blur — a single kick sent shockwaves tearing through the ground. Rimuru barely dodged, morphing into a liquid whip that snapped around Milim's leg.
"Gotcha—!"
"Too slow!" Milim twisted midair, her dragon tail (summoned from her partial transformation) whipping Rimuru off balance. She landed like a gymnast, smirking. "You're fun already!"
"Don't underestimate me!" Rimuru's body flashed — splitting into multiple clones. Each clone wielded a different weapon: a blazing katana, a spear of black ice, and a whip crackling with magic. "Try hitting all of me at once!"
Milim's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Oh-ho-ho! Cute trick! I'll just blow all of you away!" She clenched her fist, energy compressing into a bright pink sphere. "DRAGO—"
"Whoa, whoa, wait! Don't blow up my land, you maniac!" Rimuru's clones simultaneously launched a coordinated attack, weaving around Milim to restrict her movements. "Let's keep this friendly, okay?!"
Rimuru's adaptability was on full display — every time Milim broke through one technique, another countered her from an unexpected angle. Raphael's tactical input guided Rimuru's attacks, predicting Milim's movements with near-perfect precision.
But Milim's raw power was overwhelming. Every punch she threw cracked the air like thunder. She swatted Rimuru's attacks aside as if they were toys.
"You're clever, I'll give you that," Milim said, dodging a wave of black ice shards. "But clever won't save you when I get serious!"
"Hah! You're not the only one who can get serious." Rimuru's form glowed as she activated Gluttonous King Beelzebuth absorbing the magicules in the air and converting it into raw energy. Her aura expanded, the ground beneath her feet glowing with sigils.
Milim's eyes widened with delight. "Now THAT'S what I wanna see! How about a game, Rimuru?"
Rimuru tilted her head. "A game?"
Milim's smirk widened, her eyes sparkling with mischief and challenge. "Yes. I like you, so I'll give you one chance. Hit me with your strongest attack. If your attack can even make me take a step back, I'll acknowledge your strength. But…" She leaned forward slightly, her aura flaring, "…if you can't even scratch me, you'll become my subordinate. Deal?"
Rimuru blinked. "...Wait, what? That's not much of a game!"
Milim shrugged, completely unbothered. "Call it whatever you want. But if you join me, I promise you—no one will dare put their fangs on you. You'll have the protection of Milim Nava, the strongest Demon Lord. What do you say?"
For a brief moment, Rimuru hesitated, watching Milim's expression. 'She's surprisingly… soft? She doesn't feel like a bad person at all… but…' Rimuru exhaled, her expression sharpening with resolve. "I'm sorry, Milim-san. We already have someone we've pledged loyalty to—someone we trust with our lives. So I can't accept your offer."
Milim's eyes glimmered with curiosity. "Oh? Is someone even stronger than me? Now that makes me curious. Who is this person you're talking about?"
The entire battlefield went quiet, every spectator holding their breath as Rimuru stepped forward, blue hair swaying gently with the breeze. Her usually soft expression was now unwavering, radiating quiet determination.
Across from her, Milim grinned like a predator about to pounce.
From the viewing platform, Shion's voice cracked with disbelief. "D-Dragon?!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd as two enormous dragons of pure energy spiraled into the air, coiling around Rimuru. They were luminous, semi-transparent constructs—yet the aura they gave off was ancient and oppressive, like true divine beasts descending from the heavens.
Rimuru glanced up at the twin dragons, awe flickering across her face. She murmured, almost to herself: "This… this is the technique Satria taught me, isn't it? The Twin Dragon Ascension…?" She raised her hand, feeling the pulsing energy that connected her to them. Her heart pounded as if in sync with their roars. "Unbelievable… they feel so alive. Does this mean… I really have the talent to touch the power of the immortals…?"
Milim's eyes narrowed slightly as she sensed the power building. "Interesting. Show me what you've got, slime!"
The two energy dragons coiled tighter, light gathering within their open maws. Then, with a deafening, divine roar, they unleashed a torrent of energy so bright like a sun.
BOOOOM!!!
A blinding flash ripped through the battlefield. The shockwave tore the ground apart, trees disintegrated, and mountains in the distance shattered like clay models. The sky itself trembled as a golden beam pierced upward, visible far beyond the horizon.
When the light finally faded, silence fell. The battlefield was scarred beyond recognition—a massive crater smoking where Milim had stood. Rimuru's figure stood at the center, her form shimmering with residual dragon light.
Shion and the others stared, mouths agape. "R-Rimuru… Rimuru-sama really did that?!"
Milim emerged from the smoke, standing little damaged, but with a gleam of genuine excitement in her eyes. "Hehehe… Not bad. Not bad at all! That actually tickled. You're fun, Rimuru."
Rimuru clenched her fist, trying not to look too shaken. "…She didn't even flinch. Damn it, Satria, your technique is strong—but she's a monster too!"
"So… can I play inside your country now? Pleaaaassseeeee!!!" Milim leaned forward, her bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief as she clasped her hands like an impatient child asking for candy.
Rimuru felt a bead of sweat roll down her cheek. "About that…"
Before Rimuru could respond, the holographic runes of the Sovereign Barrier pulsed to life, covering the gate with intricate, glowing sigils. A deep, synthetic voice resonated from the defensive towers, cold and absolute:
"Alert: Unauthorized entity detected. Threat level—Dragon. Entry to Tempest is restricted. All external forces must undergo Protocol Verification. Failure to comply will result in containment or immediate deportation."
The message reverberated like the judgment of a divine machine. Soldiers stationed near the walls tightened their grips on their weapons, and the barrier itself seemed to hum with raw power.
Milim tilted her head, her pink hair swaying as a mischievous grin spread across her face. "Contain me? Hah! Your little glowing wall is cute. Clever toys, but toys don't have will. Will you really challenge me?"
Her aura flared slightly, a pinkish-gold pressure wave that made even seasoned Tempest guards break into cold sweats.
"Whoa, whoa! Milim! No one's challenging anyone here!" Rimuru raised both hands in a hurry, trying to calm the situation before someone accidentally pressed the self-destruct button. "We just… have protocols, you know? Standard security checks! We need to make sure you're not planning to, uh… burn down the country or something."
Milim laughed—a bright, carefree laugh that somehow carried the weight of a nuclear bomb. "Burn down your country? Why would I do that? Your walls are too fun to smash. I wouldn't waste them!"
Rimuru s sighed, rubbing their forehead. "That's… not really comforting, Milim."
The Sovereign Barrier's voice repeated, sharper this time: "Verification pending. External entity must submit to identification scan and intent protocol. Please comply."
Milim narrowed her eyes at the runes. "It's talking to me again. Rimuru, does it always nag this much?"
Rimuru gave an awkward smile. "Uh… only with people who can level mountains just by sneezing. So, yeah, pretty much for now just you."
The confrontation between Milim and the Sovereign Barrier AI had drawn attention. Behind her, a throng of adventurers, merchants, mercenaries, and curious wanderers began to gather. Whispers rippled through the crowd—everyone had seen the blast that failed to even scratch the wall, and now they saw Milim herself standing at the gate.
"Is that… The Demon Lord?!" someone hissed. "If she's entering, then maybe this is our only chance to see what's inside Tempest!"
"The rumors say they've got something beyond ours wildest dreams… We can't just stay out here!"
The crowd's excitement began to swell.
The Sovereign Barrier flared again, its luminous runes spiraling like living fire, and a mechanical voice echoed across the field:
"Notice: All entities seeking entry must undergo Protocol Verification. This includes biometric, magical, and intent scans. Any failure will result in instant deportation or containment. No exceptions."
The words hung in the air like a decree from the heavens. Murmurs died down, replaced by tense glances and clenched fists.
From the towers, Rigurd's voice boomed with authority: "Tempest welcomes friends, but not trouble. We cannot allow anyone with ill will—or uncontrollable power—past these gates. Every soul must abide by the same rules, Demon Lord or not."
Milim blinked, then tilted her head with a playful grin. "So even I have to play by your rules? Cute! Fine, let's play your little verification game. But if it's boring, I'll break something."
Rimuru's eyes twitched. "No breaking things! Just… let our officers do its job, okay? It'll just scan your intent and energy signature. Totally painless!"
"Painless? Then it doesn't sound fun at all," Milim pouted.
Seeing Milim—the terrifying Demon Lord—step forward without hesitation emboldened the onlookers.
"If even she has to do it, I suppose we've got no excuse," muttered a dwarven king, stroking his mustache. "This could be our only chance to forge ties with Tempest. If we pass the test, we'll see what's behind this legendary wall."
But their confidence wavered as the AI's voice sharpened like a drawn blade:
"Warning: Intent detection protocol will reveal all hostile or deceitful motives. Any attempt to conceal malice will result in immediate disqualification and punitive measures."
The words had weight—final and merciless. Half the crowd instantly fell silent.
A few shady types—spies, smugglers, and hired blades—visibly stiffened. Some began to step back, deciding that Tempest wasn't worth the risk of having their true intentions exposed.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, streaking the plains around the Tempest Empire in crimson and gold, a shadow moved among the hills.
From a concealed vantage point, General Doldrum of the Eastern Empire watched the distant silhouette of Tempest with calculating eyes. His troops—disciplined ranks of soldiers clad in black steel, accompanied by siege engines and magic cannons—waited silently for his command.
Doldrum's lips curled into a thin smile. "So, this is the country created by a filthy and barbaric monster everyone is whispering about?" he muttered. "Overconfident fools. They think their walls make them untouchable. They'll learn soon enough that walls mean nothing to us."
Turning to his officers, he raised his voice, letting it roll like thunder across the encampment. "Today, we strike! The Empire decrees that Tempest is a cancer—a threat to the world's balance! We will burn them to the ground, crush their monsters, and erase their blasphemous power from existence!"
The soldiers roared in unison, the sound echoing like a war drum in the evening air.
•
Far away, within the sleek halls of the Tempest Science Foundation, Satria paused mid-step. His senses, sharp as a blade, felt the sudden shift in the air—like the breath before a storm.
"Hmm," he said softly, a smirk curling his lips. "Looks like someone's decided to test our patience."
Great Red, standing beside him, narrowed her scarlet eyes. "I feel it too. A horde is marching… their malice is almost palpable. What's the plan, darling? Do we smash them now?"
Satria chuckled, his tone casual despite the incoming threat. "Let them come. They think they can poke us just because we could shake the balance of the world when the truth they're scared of progress. Pathetic." His eyes gleamed with amusement. "We'll let our army handle them for now. No point in ending the game in a single move—it's more fun to let them struggle."
"Fufufufu~ Spoken like a true Emperor," Great Red replied with a wicked grin. "Come on, then. Let's watch the show."
•
Outside the Sovereign Barrier, Rimuru stood a stood alongside his allies as the invading army of the Eastern Empire revealed itself. War horns blared, and the ground trembled beneath the weight of the advancing war machines.
Rimuru's voice rang out, sharp but calm. "Who are you people? What business do you have here?"
A single figure stepped forward—General Doldrum, clad in dark crimson armor, his gaze cold as ice. "We are the Eastern Empire," he declared. "Your nation is an aberration—a nest of monsters and unnatural power. You threaten the balance of this world! By order of the Emperor, you will be purged!"
The dwarven king beside Rimuru's group paled. "The Eastern Empire? No… not here… Why would they act so recklessly?"
Rimuru's gaze hardened. "If that's how you see it… then don't expect us to just stand by. We will defend our home. We won't hold back."
Behind Rimuru, the others exchanged tense glances.
"This… this is war, isn't it?" Dick (Robin) muttered, his fists tightening as he watched the sea of enemy soldiers.
Kurumi smirked, her crimson eye glinting with mischief. "What's wrong, little bat? Feeling cold feet? If you still want to cling to that silly 'no-kill' rule of yours, maybe you should stay back."
"What?! Don't underestimate me! What's wrong with having that rule?!" Dick snapped, cheeks flushed.
Ruby shifted uncomfortably, gripping Crescent Rose. "I… I don't know. Fighting Grimm is one thing, but these are people. I've never… killed anyone before. What if I can't do it?"
Fran, leaning on her black blade, glanced at Ruby with calm, unflinching eyes. "This is reality, Ruby. It's cruel, but it's true. In war, it's kill or be killed. Thou can't expect sunshine and rainbows when blood is spilled."
Ruby swallowed hard, but nodded, her determination slowly building.
Morgan smirked, her presence like a dark flame. "War is where the strong prove themselves. I'm beginning to love this new life of mine. Thank you, Master, for bringing me back to this world."
Kurumi chuckled softly. "Likewise, Morgan-san."
The heavens tore open with a blinding beam of light.
From the rift above, a colossal figure descended like a divine judgment—an armored knight clad in radiant white and gold plates. His armor glimmered as though forged from fragments of stars, each polished surface reflecting an ethereal glow. In one hand, he carried a lance of pure light, its edge humming with restrained power.
At his side stood his companion—a mechanical steed, its silver hooves sparking as it touched the ground, a crystalline horn shining like a beacon. The horse's design was both elegant and terrifying, resembling a living war machine sculpted from steel and sanctified magic.
Gasps rippled through both armies.
"Wh-what is that…?!" a soldier from the Eastern Empire whispered, his voice trembling.
The giant knight towered over them, at least 60-70 meters tall—his knee alone almost level with the roofs of Tempest's outer watchtowers. His very presence felt heavy, pressing against the chests of those who dared to meet his gaze.
Aditya raised his glowing spear, his voice booming like rolling thunder, yet clear as crystal:
"Enemies of Tempest, hear me well.
Slither into whatever dark refuge you desire—the light will find you.
I am Aditya Tempest, Leader of the Lightborn.
Our lives are forfeit to the safety of the Golden Emperor.
Our loyalty shall never waver, nor shall we obey any other commander in battle or service. None shall bar us, and none shall halt our mission.
So it is decreed!"
His words carried across the plains like divine judgment, a chill sinking into the hearts of all who listened.
Aditya lowered his lance, the tip gleaming ominously.
"Go home, soldiers. Save your lives while you still can. You stand no chance against me—against us. Leave… before regret becomes your final memory."
A hush fell over the Eastern Empire troops. Fear rippled through their ranks, visible even from afar.
"T-this… this isn't a man, it's a monster…" one soldier stammered, clutching his weapon. "How do we even fight something like that?"
But General Doldrum's voice cut through their fear like a whip. "Do not falter! He is but one—while we are many! Their tricks and machines are nothing compared to the might of the Eastern Empire!" His gaze hardened, and he barked his next order with iron resolve: "Anyone who flees will be executed! Either we claim victory… or we die trying!"
Aditya tilted his head slightly, almost in pity. "...So be it." His voice dropped to a cold, resonant tone. "Foolish humans." With that, his spear ignited like a burning sun, casting long shadows across the battlefield as the first sparks of war prepared to ignite.
The battlefield quaked as a metallic clang echoed from within Tempest's walls. Something was launched — a gleaming capsule, spinning high into the sky before slamming into the ground with an earth-shattering BOOM.
Before anyone could react, Satria's voice rang out, carried by the amplification of Tempest's arcane loudspeakers:
"Guardians of Tempest! This is our moment. Show them our power. Show them why none shall take the Tempest Empire lightly!"
The capsule split open with a burst of steam, and from it rose a colossal kaiju-like monster.
Its body was sheathed in jagged, black armor-like scales, claws curving like hooked blades. Crimson, spiked crests ran along its back, and its glowing, blood-red eyes locked on the invading army with predatory malice. The monster bared a grin of serrated teeth as a low, bone-rattling growl rippled through the stormy battlefield.
It was Ex-Tyrant—the Ultimate Life Form.
Then, the ground darkened as a shadow spread unnaturally across the plain. Budi, the eldritch being, let out a low gurgling sound before his form began to mutate. His body grew grotesquely tall and alien—an abomination of cosmic design. His new form stood like a towering nightmare:
Four clawed arms, each ending in razor talons.
Purple and gold armored plating across his torso and limbs.
A twisted, horned face radiating eldritch fury. In his main hand, he wielded a staff crowned with a pulsating, purple crystal, each pulse releasing waves of dark energy.
A flash of silver cut across the sky. With a bone-chilling howl, the twin Norse wolves—Dawn and Selena—transformed into their original, titanic forms. Each of them stood as tall as the Tempest walls, their fur bristling like steel needles and their eyes glowing like suns and moons. The very ground seemed to quake beneath their steps as they advanced, jaws snapping with raw power.
"Attack! Kill these monsters!!" General Doldrum roared, his voice cracking with both rage and fear.
"These abominations shouldn't even exist! Purge them before they spread their evil!" screamed a mage, firing a magic cannon.
The battlefield erupted as spellfire, artillery shells, and blasts of arcane energy rained down toward Tempest's guardians.
A sudden tremor shook the ground — CRACK! The earth split open, and from the fissure emerged something even more terrifying:
A massive, armored insectoid creature. Its body resembled a cross between a scarab beetle and a scorpion, its golden pincers gleaming like swords under the storm's light. Red and gold armor plating covered its carapace in ornate, almost regal patterns. Every movement radiated menace and precision, like a warrior-king stepping into battle.
"ONWARD, FOR TEMPEST! SLAY THEM IN THE NAME OF THE GOLDEN EMPEROR!"
With a roar, the Horde of Nyx Assassins swarmed out from behind Anub'arak, darting like shadows across the battlefield. They tore through the enemy's machines and spell tanks with surgical precision, leaving chaos in their wake.
"W-Whoa!" Dick Grayson's jaw dropped. "First a giant robot, then kaiju, giant wolves, and NOW a giant bug?! What is even happening?!"
Rimuru herself, while trying to remain composed, couldn't help but blink in surprise. "Who are you? I've never seen you around here before… but thanks for the assist."
The colossal insect turned its gaze toward Rimuru, bowing his head with eerie grace. "The Golden Emperor sent me to aid you, Empress Rimuru. I am Anub'arak—the chosen of the Goddess of Nyx."
Rimuru sighed deeply. "Of course… that guy never stops surprising me. I swear, one day he's going to give me a heart attack."
"Now…" Satria's voice rumbled across the battlefield, calm yet commanding. "…it's time to end this bullshit."
To be continued...