(Third Person POV – Rimuru & Nova)
The night sky stretched endlessly above the Goblin Village, stars scattered like silver dust. For the first time since Shizu's passing, the place felt… calm. The goblins were thriving, their new homes sturdier, their people healthier.
Rimuru stood proudly at the center of it all, in her new human form. Long silver-blue hair shimmered in the moonlight, her golden eyes filled with determination. She still wasn't used to walking on two legs again, but the smile she carried was genuine.
At her side stood Nova. No longer the shimmering fox, but the tall silver-haired man with mismatched eyes. He wore a simple black cloak, his expression carved in stone. The villagers bowed whenever he passed, not out of affection—but fear.
"Things are finally settling down," Rimuru said, exhaling softly.
Nova's gaze swept across the village. His tone was flat.
"For now."
Rimuru turned toward him, half-annoyed.
"Do you always have to sound so ominous?"
"Yes."
"...You're impossible." She crossed her arms, pouting slightly.
Nova didn't respond. His eyes were locked on the horizon, where the wind carried faint whispers of unrest.
Ciel.
<
Report. What's brewing beyond these lands?
<
Nova's expression didn't change, but his mind sharpened.
'So the timeline tightens. Perfect.'
(Shift – Rimuru's POV)
Rimuru noticed Nova's silence and frowned. He always looked like he knew more than he let on. It was infuriating—and intimidating.
"Hey," she said, nudging him lightly. "Whatever happens next… we'll deal with it, right?"
Nova blinked once, then finally spoke.
"You will. I'll watch."
"...That's not very reassuring."
"Reality rarely is."
Rimuru groaned, throwing her hands up.
"Why do I even try with you?"
But Nova said nothing more. His mismatched eyes caught the reflection of the moon—one scarlet, one teal—and for just a moment, it looked like the heavens themselves were staring back at him.
(Closing Scene – Third Person POV)
Far to the south, in the shadow of distant mountains, armies began to stir. Countless footsteps echoed across barren plains, led by a monstrous figure cloaked in hunger and wrath.
The Orc Lord had begun to move.
And in the village above, Nova's voice slipped like a whisper into the night air.
"Let the game continue."
The words lingered like frost in the air, and then silence reclaimed the village. Rimuru tilted her head, uneasy, though she couldn't quite tell why. Nova had a way of saying things that never felt like simple statements—every word carried weight, like a prophecy.
The goblins returned to their routines, chatting cheerfully as the night stretched onward. Fires crackled, wooden mugs clinked together, and laughter filled the streets. It should have been a peaceful night.
Yet Nova stood apart.
He leaned against the wooden railing of the newly-built watchtower, arms crossed, eyes locked on the distant horizon. The night wind tugged at his silver hair, but he remained unmoved.
Ciel.
<
'And the puppeteer?'
<
Nova smirked faintly, though it carried no warmth. "Of course I'm not."
Behind him, Rimuru climbed the steps of the tower, her new human body wobbling slightly. She cursed under her breath as she nearly tripped.
Nova glanced down at her. "Pathetic."
"Hey!" Rimuru snapped, pouting, her golden eyes flashing. "This body's new, okay? Not everyone has the balance of a cosmic fox god."
"You should adapt faster."
"Do you even know how hard it is to walk in heels for the first time?!"
Nova stared blankly at her shoes. "…You chose to wear them."
Rimuru groaned, throwing her arms up. "You are impossible."
The exchange should have been irritating, yet there was something strangely comforting about it. For the goblins watching below, the sight of their new leader bickering with the cold, terrifying Nova felt… oddly human.
---
But the peace didn't last.
Ciel's voice hummed in Nova's mind.
<
Nova's lips curved ever so slightly. 'Do it.'
Ciel's voice spilled into Rimuru's head as well.
<
Rimuru froze, her face paling.
"…All of Jura?!"
Nova's voice was steady, cold. "Yes. And this is only the beginning."
"But—But we just got this place stable!" Rimuru shouted, panic creeping into her tone. "The goblins, the wolves—everyone's depending on us!"
Nova didn't flinch. "Then you'll need to grow stronger."
"Stronger?!" Rimuru turned on him, fire in her golden eyes. "What about you? You're—"
She stopped, remembering his words from before. You will. I'll watch.
Rimuru swallowed, frustration boiling in her chest. "Do you really plan to just sit back and watch people die?"
Nova tilted his head, mismatched eyes glinting in the moonlight.
"I have already watched gods die, Rimuru. Mortals are… less significant."
The words struck her like ice water. For a moment, she had no reply. He spoke them with such emptiness, such terrifying honesty, that it almost made her forget he was standing in a human body at all.
And yet… something in his eyes flickered. A memory.
Blood. Fire. His own death.
Rimuru clenched her fists. "...You're wrong."
Nova didn't reply, and silence stretched between them.
Down below, the goblins were still laughing, still drinking, still enjoying the night. Unaware of the storm rising beyond the mountains.
Unaware that in just weeks, their homes might burn again.
Nova closed his eyes, listening to the wind. In its howl, he could hear faint echoes—not from this world, but from higher ones. Whispers of beings who had watched, just as he had, since the dawn of creation.
JACW chuckling somewhere in the void. TOAA smirking in smug silence.
Nova almost scoffed.
"Spectators, the lot of you."
Rimuru glanced up at him, confused. "Did you say something?"
Nova opened his eyes again, his face unreadable. "No. Just… thinking."
Hours passed, and the fires of the village began to dim. Most of the goblins retreated to their homes, leaving the night quiet again. Rimuru remained on the tower, stubbornly refusing to leave Nova alone.
Finally, she sat on the wooden planks, hugging her knees to her chest. Her voice was soft.
"…You know, I don't care if you're some emotionless cosmic whatever. I'm still going to drag you into this. Because that's what friends do."
Nova blinked. Slowly. His gaze turned to her—golden eyes shimmering stubbornly under the starlight.
For just a heartbeat, something cracked in his mask.
Then it was gone.
Nova looked back to the horizon.
"We'll see."
Far across the plains, the Orc Lord feasted. Flesh tore, blood spilled, and every devoured corpse added to his growing strength.
The balance of the forest was breaking.
And above it all, two figures stood in silence on a watchtower:
One, a reincarnated slime struggling to hold everything together.
The other, a godlike enigma watching it all fall apart with indifferent eyes.
The storm was coming.
Side Story – The Fox, the Void, and the Presence
The void rippled again. Where nothing should exist, three voices cut across eternity.
JACW lounged casually on a throne that wasn't really a throne, more like the idea of authority made manifest. His smile was sharp.
"So, what's the verdict? The brat's skills."
TOAA folded his arms, unimpressed. "You mean Nova's? You already know the answer. Near-omnipotence, layered redundancies, protections even I wouldn't casually bypass. Honestly, it's overkill."
JACW chuckled. "Overkill's fun. Admit it—you love watching him break systems that should be unbreakable."
Before TOAA could retort, another voice joined them. Calm. Serene. Heavy.
"Children."
The void trembled as the Presence manifested. Unlike the arrogance of JACW or the quiet smugness of TOAA, His arrival was… absolute. A silence that bent everything toward reverence.
TOAA rolled his eyes. "Great. Dad's home."
The Presence ignored him. His gaze—if such a thing could be said to exist—drifted toward the mortal plane where Nova stood.
"His skills are not tools. They are inevitabilities. Layers of paradox stacked within paradox, until even destruction feeds creation."
JACW grinned. "See? Told you it wasn't just me hyping him up."
TOAA snorted. "Don't overplay it. I could design a character with skills like that in my sleep. The difference is… he actually works as a character."
Presence nodded slowly. "Because he is not bound by the Original Character Fallacy."
The void itself shivered at the words.
JACW leaned forward, teeth flashing. "Exactly. Mortals love to scream 'broken OC' whenever they see power without restraint. But this isn't just 'haha big numbers go brrr.' Nova's story carries something heavier. He has a world that justifies his weight. A cosmology to frame his steps. Characters around him that keep him in balance."
TOAA smirked. "Not to mention the author's little trick: instead of handing Nova a laundry list of powers, he ties everything to narrative causality. Each skill feels earned, like a natural law bending to his presence. That's why it doesn't collapse under its own absurdity."
Presence's voice was almost amused. "So even infinite strength becomes believable, when wielded by one who is, paradoxically, empty."
JACW cracked up. "Empty fox god with a sass problem. You love to see it."
The three of them sat in silence for a time, each lost in thought.
Finally, TOAA muttered, "You know… readers are probably trying to scale this mess already."
JACW barked a laugh. "Let them. Nova isn't here to be a versus-battle toy. He's here to unsettle them. To remind them that sometimes the most dangerous being is the one who doesn't care enough to fight."
Presence inclined His head. "And that, ironically, is why he surpasses even us."
TOAA scowled. "Tch. Don't push it."
But JACW only smirked wider, his eyes glittering with mischief.
"Oh, I'll push it. I'll push it until they realize their debates mean nothing. After all…"
He leaned back into his not-throne, laughter echoing through infinity.
"…when even the gods gossip like fangirls about you, what's left to prove?"
The void had grown comfortable with their banter. Threads of infinity curled lazily around the three supreme beings.
JACW leaned back with a smirk. "So, let's address the elephant in the room. Or fox. Or… author."
TOAA groaned. "Here we go. Another conspiracy theory."
Presence, ever still, allowed the silence to stretch before speaking.
"The author claims to be… inexperienced. A first-timer. Yet the structure says otherwise."
JACW's grin widened. "Exactly! Look at the pacing. The foreshadowing. The consistency. You don't stumble into that on your first try unless you've been writing in secret—or unless you're cheating."
TOAA gave him a side-eye. "Cheating?"
"Oh, don't pretend you haven't thought it too," JACW shot back. "Each chapter grows in length and complexity at just the right rate. Natural growth, they say. But isn't it a little too perfect? Like someone who already knows all the traps and is just… roleplaying the journey."
Presence's voice was calm, but heavy.
"A lie told often enough becomes truth. Perhaps the deception is intentional—to test the readers, to bait their jealousy, to make them question what is real."
TOAA chuckled darkly. "You're saying the author might be as manipulative as Nova himself?"
JACW burst into laughter. "Oh, wouldn't that be poetic? An author pretending to be green while pulling the strings like a veteran puppeteer. Let the audience argue if he's a genius or just lucky."
Presence's gaze turned outward, piercing beyond even the void. "In the end, experience or not, the words achieve their purpose. The deception, if it is one, only sharpens the knife. For those who envy, it cuts deeper."
JACW leaned forward, smirk dangerous. "And isn't that the fun part? Watching the readers squirm—not just at Nova's strength, but at the thought that they're being outplayed by someone who might not even be what he says."
TOAA sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You two really enjoy tormenting mortals."
Presence's silence was telling.
The void quivered with their laughter, leaving the faint echo of suspicion behind.
Whether it was truth, mischief, or another carefully crafted illusion—none could say for certain. But one thing was clear: the readers would never look at the author's "beginner" label the same way again.