Loki leaned back against the high, carved wooden back of his chair, idly spinning a gold-plated pen between his fingers. The maps laid out across his desk detailed the possible troop movements of the Falmuth Kingdom, but his eyes were completely unfocused. He was not looking at the troop paths or the strategic choke points. Instead, his mind was racing with a massive, glorious calculation that would completely rewrite the power balance of the world.
'This is honestly the perfect opportunity,' Loki thought, a slow, scheming smile carving its way onto his face. The timing could not be more flawless. "Depending on the exact number of forces Falmuth decides to mobilize for this foolish march, there could easily be twenty thousand souls running straight into the slaughter. That is more than enough harvest material to trigger a complete evolution."
"My dear brother Rimuru is finally going to ascend to the seat of a True Demon Lord."
Standing just a few paces away, Testarossa paused in her elegant task of sorting through the latest diplomatic dispatches. Her eyes shifted, locking onto Loki as she observed the erratic, shifting expressions crossing his face. She neatly stacked the parchment sheets on the corner of the table with a quiet, deliberate tap.
"Lord Loki," Testarossa spoke, her voice carrying that smooth, melodic perfection unique to her nature. "If I may be so bold as to inquire, what is the reason you are so deeply invested in forcing the evolution of Lord Rimuru? With the immense strength you already possess, and the power we stand ready to wield under your direct command, we could easily erase any threat to your domain. The birth of another Awakened Demon Lord seems entirely unnecessary for our current ambitions."
Loki shifted his gaze from the maps up to the ornate ceiling, his smile fading into a much more serious, grounded expression. He let out a slow, quiet breath.
'Why do I want him to evolve so badly?' Loki thought to himself. 'Because I know exactly what kind of absolute nightmare is waiting down the pipeline. In the future, the massive war against the Angels will inevitably break out. Right now, I am certainly strong. I have gathered an incredible amount of power, and my position in this world is entirely secure. But am I powerful enough to defeat Veldanava if it actually comes down to a direct clash? I am not sure. I am really not sure.'
He closed his eyes, the memories of his past life on Earth flashing clearly through his mind.
'From the very last volume of the light novel I managed to read before kicking the bucket, which was volume twenty, the Angels and their forces were actively working toward completely reviving Veldanava. But I died before Fuse could actually finish writing the story. I never got to read the true ending. Because of that, I have no idea how that final conflict wraps up. I do not know just how absurdly powerful a fully resurrected Star King Dragon Veldanava is, or whether he ultimately decides to become a catastrophic enemy to everyone left alive on the planet.'
Loki took another deep breath, his mind visualizing the sheer, unfathomable scale of the universe he now inhabited.
'The guy literally created the entire Tensura cosmology from scratch. Every single law of magic, the dimensions, the ultimate skills, the world itself. It all originated from his sheer will. A being of that caliber must be strong as hell. There is no way a regular powerhouse can just look him in the eye and expect to survive, let alone win. But seeing as how Rimuru was the absolute main character of the novel, the entire narrative was surely gearing up to make him stronger than Veldanava by the final chapter. Fuse never struck me as the kind of author who would write a depressing tragedy and make his main character lose or die at the end. So to ensure the absolute safety of this world, and my own skin, pushing Rimuru to reach his peak potential as fast as possible is my best bet for now.'
Loki snapped back to reality, his eyes blinking open as he looked back down at his loyal Primordial. He obviously could not explain to Testarossa that their entire reality was a series of books he used to buy at a convenience store. He needed a completely different justification.
"It is all about long-term global deterrence, Testarossa," Loki lied smoothly, waving a dismissive hand through the air as if it were a simple matter. "The political landscape is changing rapidly. Having an incredibly powerful, trustworthy ally in the center of the Jura Forest who owes his ultimate ascension directly to our guidance provides an unassailable defensive buffer. It is a strategic move that sets the entire board in our favor for the greater conflicts on the horizon."
Testarossa tilted her head slightly, her gaze lingering on him for a moment. She knew her master was holding back deeper insights, but she bowed her head with absolute grace, accepting the answer without a single hint of doubt.
"I understand your profound foresight, Lord Loki," Testarossa replied softly.
"You speak of manufacturing a Demon Lord as if you are simply choosing what type of tea to serve for afternoon tea," a sharp, regal voice sounded.
Elmesia El-Ru Thalion, the Heavenly Emperor of the Sorcerous Dynasty of Thalion, sat next to Loki. Her arms were tightly crossed over her chest, and her sharp, elven eyes were fixed on Loki with a mixture of profound concern and intense irritation. As the absolute ruler of one of the most politically influential nations on the continent, hearing someone casually plot the deliberate birth of a world-threatening catastrophe was deeply unsettling.
"Who exactly is this Rimuru person?" Elmesia demanded. "You are talking about intentionally engineering an Awakened Demon Lord in the middle of the Great Jura Forest. The immense political fallout alone could completely destabilize the western nations. I cannot simply sit idly by while you alter the world's power structure on a complete whim."
Loki chuckled, entirely unbothered by her imposing, majestic demeanor. He offered her a reassuring, completely casual grin.
"Oh, do not worry about it so much, Elmesia," Loki said cheerfully, propping his chin up with his hand. "Rimuru is an incredibly good guy. Seriously, he is just a peaceful, easygoing slime who wants to build a comfortable town, trade with neighbors, and eat good food. Even if he becomes a True Demon Lord, he would never become a threat to the world. He is completely harmless to anyone who does not actively try to murder his citizens."
Elmesia stared at him, her beautiful brow furrowing with absolute disbelief and annoyance.
"That really does not comfort me in the slightest," Elmesia stated dryly. "A harmless slime does not simply become an Awakened Demon Lord. The sheer density of the magicules and souls required for that specific evolution alters a consciousness entirely. If you think a simple character reference is enough to appease Thalion, you are deeply mistaken. I want to meet this Rimuru myself before you proceed with any of these ridiculous, dangerous plans."
Loki's eyes instantly lit up, a mischievous, wide grin spreading across his face. He stood up from his chair, brushing off his suit with an enthusiastic snap.
"Hey, that is actually a fantastic idea," Loki said, clapping his hands together. "Meeting him face-to-face will clear up all your doubts in an instant. By the way, Elmesia, how do you usually handle teleportation magic?"
Elmesia blinked, completely caught off guard by the sudden, erratic shift in his energy.
"What are you talking about?" Elmesia asked, a sudden, primal sense of dread washing over her. "Teleportation coordinates across national borders require extensive preparation, magical formulas, and—"
Before she could even finish her sentence, a massive, incredibly intricate magic circle erupted into existence directly underneath both of them. The ancient runes flared with a blinding, maroon brilliance that completely illuminated every single corner of the grand chamber. Elmesia reached for her own massive magical reserves to instantly counter the spell, but the sheer speed, precision, and overwhelming authority of Loki's mana overrode her defenses in a fraction of a second.
With a sharp, resounding crack of displaced atmosphere, the light flashed, and both Loki and the Heavenly Emperor vanished from the room entirely.
Left behind in the sudden, echoing silence, Testarossa slowly raised her right hand and pressed her palm firmly against her face. A deep, incredibly heavy sigh escaped her lips as the absolute weight of dread settled over her shoulders.
"How did I end up serving such an incredibly troublesome Lord?" Testarossa said, her mind reeling at the sheer absurdity of the situation. "He just completely kidnapped the Empress of the most politically influential nation on the continent. He bypassed her personal security barriers, ignored every single rule of international protocol, and dragged her away to a monster settlement without a single care in the world. The diplomatic nightmare this will cause is beyond human calculation."
Beside her, Moss looked up at Testarossa, his small face completely stoic and unbothered.
"Do not distress yourself unnecessarily, Lady Testarossa," Moss spoke calmly, attempting to offer some solace to his Lord. "Lord Loki operates on a grand design that ordinary minds cannot hope to fully comprehend. The Empress will surely survive the brief journey, and our master will undoubtedly control the final outcome."
Testarossa let her hand drop, her expression returning to an icy, flawless mask of professionalism. "I am less worried about her physical survival, Moss, and more worried about the sheer volume of official paperwork I will have to completely falsify to explain her sudden, unannounced disappearance to the council."
Before Moss could offer another word of comfort, the heavy wooden doors to the chamber burst open with a loud thud.
Erald Grimwald, the Archduke of Thalion, strode into the room with a flurry of motion, a stack of urgent documents tucked under his arm. He had been reviewing the security perimeters of the estate and came to deliver an immediate update to his sovereign.
"Your Majesty, the latest reports from the border patrols have officially arrived, and we need to immediately discuss the—" Erald froze completely mid-step, the words dying instantly in his throat.
His eyes had locked entirely onto Testarossa. The sheer, suffocating aura of the White Primordial slammed into his senses like a physical wall of bricks. The absolute, ancient fear of death kicked in immediately, causing every single drop of blood to drain from his face. Erald's gaze darted frantically around the room, searching the empty spaces for Elmesia, looking for any shred of solace or royal protection from the terrifying entity standing before him.
The room was completely devoid of his cousin.
'Damn it,' Erald thought, his heart hammering violently against his ribs as a cold sweat broke out across his neck. 'I am standing here completely alone with a Primordial Demon. Where on earth did the Empress go? What am I even supposed to say right now to survive this encounter? If I make a single wrong move or say something insulting, she will tear my soul apart before I can even blink.'
Swallowing hard, Erald weakly raised a trembling hand, his voice shaking slightly despite his best efforts to maintain his noble decorum.
"Excuse me," Erald stammered out, his eyes wide with panic. "Have... have either of you seen Empress Elmesia? She was supposed to be reviewing the council documents in this exact chamber."
Testarossa turned her icy gaze toward the trembling Archduke, her expression entirely deadpan and devoid of emotion.
"My Lord took her to the Jura Forest," Testarossa stated simply.
Erald stood perfectly still, his mind completely short-circuiting at the sentence. The absolute absurdity of the statement simply refused to process in his brain.
"Huh?" was the only word that managed to escape Erald's mouth, his face going entirely blank.
---
Meanwhile, within the central governing manor of Arashi, the atmosphere was thick with a completely different kind of terrifying tension.
Rimuru Tempest sat at the head of the low table, his slime-turned-human form practically vibrating with an overwhelming desire to flee the building. In front of him sat a large wooden bowl filled with a purple, bubbling mound of unidentified toxic sludge. It was actively emitting a strange, low-frequency sizzling sound, and a faint, dark vapor was slowly drifting off the slimy surface.
Standing directly behind his chair was Shion, a massive, incredibly proud smile plastered across her face. She nudged Rimuru's shoulder gently, her eyes gleaming with absolute expectation and affection.
"Go on, Lord Rimuru," Shion said enthusiastically, gesturing toward the bubbling bowl with a large wooden spoon. "I poured my entire heart and soul into this brand-new recipe. Please try it while it is still nice and hot."
Sitting along the side of the long table, Benimaru was deliberately staring out the open window, his eyes wide and completely focused on a completely random bird sitting on a distant tree branch, absolutely refusing to make eye contact with his master. Hakuro sat perfectly straight, stoically sipping from a small cup of green tea, his expression entirely unreadable as he mastered the art of completely blending into the background scenery.
Gobta was shaking visibly in his seat, his fork trembling so violently it clattered loudly against his empty ceramic plate. He was silently praying to every deity he knew that Rimuru would eat the entire portion so none of it would be left over for him to taste.
Across the room, Shuna stood near the tea cart, her hands clasped tightly in front of her dress. She looked at Rimuru with a deeply sympathetic, apologetic expression, feeling entirely sorry for the absolute torture her master was about to endure, yet completely unable to intervene against Shion's pure-hearted enthusiasm.
'Save me,' Rimuru thought, his inner voice screaming in absolute despair as he picked up the spoon with a numb, trembling hand. 'Great Sage, is there any possible way to completely neutralize the taste of this thing before it hits my tongue? I know I have Poison Resistance, but this dish completely defies the very concept of biology.'
[Answer,] the Great Sage replied coldly within his mind. [Physical damage to the taste buds can be easily mitigated, but the emotional trauma of the flavor cannot be bypassed.]
Before Rimuru could force himself to take a single bite of the bubbling horror, the ambient magicules in the room violently shifted.
A massive, brilliant blue magic circle erupted directly onto the tatami mats in the exact center of the chamber. The sudden, explosive burst of concentrated mana sent a sharp shockwave through the room, knocking Gobta straight out of his chair and causing Benimaru to instantly reach for the hilt of his sword. Hakuro's eyes snapped open, his relaxed posture vanishing in a fraction of a second as his entire body tensed for combat.
"We are under attack!" Shion yelled, her hand immediately dropping the wooden spoon and moving to the hilt of her massive claymore as she stepped defensively in front of Rimuru.
The light flashed with a blinding, spectacular intensity, and as the radiance finally cleared, two figures popped out of the fading magical particles.
Rimuru blinked, his defensive stance dropping immediately as he recognized the familiar, chaotic face. He let out a long, exhausted sigh of relief, slumping completely forward onto the table.
"Oh," Rimuru muttered, his voice entirely flat. "It is only Loki. You scared the absolute hell out of everyone, man. Do you always have to make such a dramatic entrance?"
Loki stood in the center of the room, completely unaffected by the tense, hostile atmosphere. He offered a cheerful wave, looking around the chamber with an enthusiastic grin.
"Hey everyone," Loki greeted them loudly, waving his arms. "Sorry about the sudden intrusion. I hope I am not interrupting a private meeting or anything important."
Rimuru raised an eyebrow, his eyes shifting past Loki's shoulder to focus on the woman standing directly behind him. The newcomer was a stunningly beautiful High Elf, but her immaculate, royal garments were slightly disheveled from the sudden teleportation, and her expression was a mixture of sheer, unadulterated fury and absolute disbelief. The radiating aura of pure, high-density magical power coming off her frame was enough to make Benimaru's hand tighten on his sword once more.
"Loki," Rimuru asked carefully, pointing a finger toward the furious elf. "Who exactly is that behind you? Did you just kidnap someone's noble daughter from another city?"
Loki laughed, completely dismissing the tension as he stepped to the side to give both of them a clear, unobstructed view of each other.
"Oh, right about that," Loki said casually, gesturing between the two of them with an easy smile. "Rimuru, this is Elmesia. Elmesia, this is Rimuru. I brought her here so you two could have a quick face-to-face chat before we get everything ready for your big ascension."
Elmesia took a slow, deep breath, smoothing down the front of her royal dress while maintaining an incredibly sharp, piercing glare directed entirely at the back of Loki's head. She then looked down at Rimuru, her sharp eyes instantly analyzing the massive, hidden depths of the slime's true power beneath his unassuming appearance.
"Loki," Rimuru repeated, his internal danger sensors starting to ring loudly. "You need to give me a proper introduction. What exactly do you mean by Elmesia?"
"Ah, my bad," Loki chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with a grin. "To be completely specific, this is Elmesia El-Ru Thalion. You know, the Heavenly Emperor and absolute ruler of the Sorcerous Dynasty of Thalion."
The absolute political bombshell dropped into the middle of the room, echoing loudly through the silent chamber.
For three long seconds, the entire room froze completely. Rimuru's fork slipped from his numb fingers, clattering loudly against the wooden table. Shuna's tea whisk dropped straight into the sink, and Benimaru's jaw slacked in a rare display of complete loss of control.
"HUHHH?!" Rimuru, Shuna, and Benimaru shouted simultaneously, their voices blending into a synchronized, absolute scream of pure, unadulterated shock that literally rattled the wooden windows of the manor.
---
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