The sun filtered gently through the canopy of the Jura Forest, casting golden rays on the ground below where construction was underway. The once simple goblin village was beginning to grow into something more — something alive. Rimuru Tempest, once just a nameless slime, now stood at the center of it all.
It hadn't been easy.
After his encounter with Veldora and taking on the name "Rimuru Tempest," the first living creatures he had met were a tribe of terrified, starving goblins. They had no leader, no direction, and were being hunted by direwolves.
Rimuru had stepped in, wiping out the direwolf leader in a single blow. But what happened after was what surprised the goblins and wolves alike. He spared the rest, even gave them a choice.
"You can follow me," Rimuru had said, his gooey body shimmering with soft light. "If you want to build a home together, I'll help you."
And so, both goblins and direwolves knelt, pledging their loyalty to the strange yet powerful slime.
One by one, Rimuru named each goblin. The act drained him more than he expected, leaving him unconscious for days.
The first to receive names were:
Rigurd, the old goblin leader, who became taller, more muscular, with a dignified mustache and commanding presence.
Gobta, a small, clueless goblin who surprisingly became a natural fighter, albeit a little slow in the head.
Rigur, Rigurd's son, who took on a sharp appearance and became a skilled warrior and scout.
Each named goblin evolved, changing in size, strength, and intelligence. It was like they'd been reborn.
When he named the direwolves, starting with the fallen leader's son, he called him Ranga. That name alone seemed to ripple through the pack, and like magic, they too evolved. Ranga grew to be the size of a house, with black fur that shimmered with electricity and a horn on his forehead that crackled with thunder.
He would later become Rimuru's closest companion, often hiding in his shadow and appearing with a flash whenever needed.
Rimuru knew the village needed more than warriors. They needed builders, craftsmen — people with skill and structure. That led him to the Dwarven Kingdom of Dwargon.
Sneaking into the city as a slime wasn't easy, especially with how suspicious everyone was. But Rimuru soon found himself tangled in a bar fight involving three dwarven brothers — Kaijin, Garm, Myrd, and Dord.
After helping them out of trouble and earning their trust, Rimuru watched Kaijin build like no other. His craftsmanship was art in motion.
"I don't want to be stuck here anymore," Kaijin said one night, staring into the forge flames. "Let me come with you. I want to build something… meaningful."
With that, Kaijin and his brothers left with Rimuru to help him construct a real village — one worthy of the people Rimuru now led.
Later on....
Rimuru encountered the three adventurers — Kabal, Eren, and Gido — again. They were in trouble, trapped by an Ifrit-possessed woman: Shizu.
She wore a mask. She looked calm. But deep inside, she was suffering.
The fight against Ifrit was intense. Flames roared like a storm, and the air boiled. But Rimuru protected the adventurers and faced the fire head-on. With his skills and quick thinking, he absorbed the flames, taking Ifrit into himself and saving everyone.
But it was too late for Shizu.
As her body faded, she and Rimuru shared one final conversation under a quiet night sky.
"I was summoned to this world… I had a mission," she whispered weakly, her hand trembling. "But all I ever wanted was peace…"
Rimuru's form shimmered with sorrow. He held her fading hand gently.
"I'll carry your will, Shizu. You won't be forgotten."
With her permission, he devoured her body, and through that, something changed. He felt it the moment it happened — warmth, a strange clarity, and then… flesh. Human form.
Rimuru looked at his reflection in a stream and saw himself — now resembling Shizu in appearance, with silver-blue hair and soft features.
It wasn't just a form. It was a symbol.
Back in the village, with the Kaijin building homes and forging weapons, goblins training under Rigurd and Rigur, and Ranga patrolling the outskirts, something incredible had begun.
They weren't just survivors anymore.
They were a community.
A family.
And Rimuru — once a man named Satoru, stabbed in a random act of violence — was now a leader. A protector. A symbol of change.
The name Tempest began to spread quietly beyond the trees.
And far away, beyond borders, eyes were beginning to turn toward the forest — some curious, some envious, and some… dangerous.
But Rimuru didn't know that yet.
All he knew was that a new chapter had begun.
Deep within the obsidian halls of Clayman's Castle in Jistav, the air was thick with tension and ambition. The massive chamber was dimly lit by eerie blue torches that flickered unnaturally along the walls. In the center of the room sat a large round table, its surface glowing faintly, feeding magical energy into the crystal orb at its center. The orb displayed live images of an army — grotesque, gluttonous, and growing rapidly: the Orcs.
Clayman leaned forward, a calculating grin etched across his pale, mask-like face. His long, sharp fingers tapped the table as he watched the orc horde grow by the day.
"They're coming along nicely," he murmured, voice smooth like poison. "The more they consume, the closer we are to birthing the Orc Lord… and soon, the Orc Disaster. Then, I'll— I mean we'll — control him, and the Jura Forest will be ours."
Frey sat with arms crossed, her wings folded behind her, her eyes sharp and skeptical. "You mean you'll control him until he turns on you, Clayman," she said flatly.
Carrion, muscles bulging even under his ornate armor, leaned against the wall with a growl. "This plan of yours is dangerous, Clayman. But if it gets us control over that forest, I'll play along — for now."
Then, Milim.
The pink-haired powerhouse sat on the table itself, legs swinging like a child, her eyes fixed on the crystal ball. She was silent for a while, unusually so, before she casually dropped a bomb.
"Oh, by the way, I told uncle Yujiro about all this."
The room froze.
Clayman blinked once.
Frey stood upright, her wings twitching.
Carrion nearly dropped the goblet in his hand.
"…What?" Clayman said, the smile vanishing from his face. "Did you just say Yujiro? As in, the Yujiro?"
Milim blinked innocently. "Yeah, that one. Big, scary, beat-up-a-True-Dragon Yujiro."
"You—you what?!" Carrion barked, his voice echoing in the chamber.
"You actually told him our plan?" Frey gasped, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Yup!" Milim chirped. "I was sitting next to him the other night after training, and I mentioned we were going to create the Orc Lord and take over the Jura Forest now that Veldora's sealed."
"You fool!" Clayman snapped, finally standing. "Do you realize what you've done?!"
Milim tilted her head, confused by the panic. "Why? He didn't say no or anything. He just said…" she paused for dramatic effect, then tried to imitate Yujiro's deep, rumbling voice:
'You know that forest is also mine, right?'
The silence that followed was absolute.
Clayman's mouth went dry.
Carrion slumped into a seat, covering his face.
Frey took a sharp breath. "He said that…? He claimed the Jura Forest?"
Milim nodded with a bright grin. "He said when he first met Veldora, Veldora told him no one could enter the forest without his permission. So Yujiro said 'Then I'll take it from you.' And he beat Veldora. So yeah, I guess he technically owns it now!"
Frey visibly trembled. "He beat Veldora, the Storm Dragon…"
Clayman swallowed hard. "I've never met him… but I've heard the legends. The one who beat all the Demon Lords… including Guy Crimson. The man who even challenged the True Dragons to one-on-one combat… and won."
Carrion's pride was gone now, replaced with a nervous glance at the walls, as if Yujiro might burst through them at any moment. "He… he trained me once. Just once. I couldn't walk for a month. Same with Frey."
Frey nodded grimly. "He doesn't train you. He breaks you and builds you back with fists made of pain and nightmares."
"But wait, wait," Clayman stammered. "What else did he say? Did he say he was going to stop us?"
Milim shrugged. "Not really. I asked him that, and you know what he said?"
They all leaned in.
She grinned. "'You guys can have your fun… until I decide that fun ends.'"
That broke whatever composure was left.
Carrion leapt from his chair. "Are you insane?! That's not a green light! That's a death sentence on delay!"
Frey sat back down, legs shaking slightly. "He's watching us. That's what he meant. He's letting us play… but the moment we cross a line..."
Clayman backed away from the orb, hands twitching. "We need to act fast. If we can complete the Orc Disaster's evolution and attack before Yujiro changes his mind, we might—just might—secure the forest before he intervenes."
"Are you mad?!" Carrion snapped. "You're gambling with your life! You know what happens when Yujiro gets serious."
Milim, in the back, just giggled, thoroughly entertained by their panic. "This is fun. I haven't seen you all this scared in ages."
Clayman scowled. "Easy for you to say. You're his… whatever-you-are. He likes you."
Milim shrugged, hopping off the table. "Well, he didn't say stop, so I'm gonna go ahead. Let me know when you all grow a backbone!"
She vanished in a flash, leaving behind the crushing weight of her words.
Frey, Clayman, and Carrion all stared at each other, then at the glowing orb — the orcs now larger, more monstrous than before, marching through wastelands, consuming everything.
Clayman finally muttered under his breath, "If this is how I die… I swear I'm haunting Milim's castle."