The sky did not darken; it fractured.
It began as a pinpoint of amethyst light high in the stratosphere, a single, violent star that outshone the sun. Then, the sound arrived—not a roar, but a tearing screech, the agony of the atmosphere being forcibly parted by something moving at a velocity that mocked the laws of aerodynamics. The clouds were not merely pushed aside; they were vaporized, leaving a perfectly circular void in the heavens that widened with terrifying speed.
Below, the celebrations of the post-Orc war victory strangled in the throats of the monsters. The goblins dropped their tools. The high orcs, usually stoic in their newfound discipline, fell to their knees, their instincts screaming of a predator that ate armies for sport.
On the outskirts of the city, Nova stood motionless. His black coat did not flutter, for the air pressure had dropped to a vacuum-like stillness in anticipation of the impact. He looked up, his mismatched eyes tracking the descending calamity with the mild interest of a man watching a raindrop slide down a windowpane.
*Ciel.*
<
*She enjoys the entrance,* Nova mused. *Performance art. How fitting.*
Rimuru was already running—or rather, bouncing and transforming simultaneously—toward the interception point. Benimaru and the Kijin were close behind, their faces pale masks of grim determination. They sensed it, even if they couldn't comprehend the scale. This wasn't a challenger. This was an ending.
The amethyst star slammed into the earth.
Proximity wards shattered instantly. The ground rippled like water, a shockwave of dust and displaced earth erupting outward in a destructive ring. But then, impossibly, the shockwave halted. It didn't dissipate; it was simply stopped, the kinetic energy absorbed back into the epicenter as if the laws of physics had decided to politely step aside.
The dust cleared, revealing not a titan, not a dragon, but a girl.
She was small, clad in an outfit that defied practicality as much as modesty, with platinum-pink hair tied in twin tails that defied gravity. Her eyes were the color of pure, distilled magic, and they sparkled with a terrifying, innocent delight.
"Wahahahaha!" Her laughter was bright, loud, and utterly incongruous with the crater she stood in. "I am here! The only Dragonoid! The Destroyer! Milim Nava!"
She struck a pose, peace signs flashing, radiant energy pouring off her like heat from a supernova.
Rimuru skidded to a halt ten meters away, regaining his human form. He stared. "…A kid?"
"Who are you calling a kid?!" Milim snapped, her cheeks puffing out. "I'm a Demon Lord! The strongest one!"
Behind Rimuru, Benimaru's hand drifted to his katana, his knuckles white. "Rimuru-sama… her aura. It's infinite. My flames… they feel like candles next to a volcano."
Shion stepped forward, her massive blade raised, her loyalty overriding her survival instinct. "You dare threaten this city? Identify your purpose, intruder!"
Milim blinked, looking at Shion as one might look at a barking puppy. "Purpose? I heard someone defeated the Orc Lord. I wanted to see who was strong enough to do it. Are you the one?" She pointed a slender finger at Rimuru.
Rimuru sweated visibly. "Uh… well, technically, yes. But—"
"Fight me!"
The declaration was simple, joyous, and terrifying.
Magicules coalesced around Milim's fist. It wasn't a spell. It wasn't a technique. It was simply raw power, dense enough to warp the light around her hand.
"Wait!" Rimuru yelled.
"Too slow!" Milim launched herself forward.
The Kijin moved. They had to. Benimaru unleashed a torrent of black fire. Souei's threads lashed out to bind her. Shion swung her sword with enough force to cleave a mountain.
Milim didn't even dodge. She simply… existed through it.
The black fire washed over her and vanished, eaten by her aura. The threads snapped upon touching her skin. Shion's sword was caught between Milim's thumb and forefinger with a metallic *clink*.
"Weak," Milim pouted, looking genuinely disappointed. She flicked her wrist.
The shockwave sent Shion flying back through three buildings. Benimaru and Souei were blasted off their feet by the sheer displacement of air.
Rimuru stood alone, his heart hammering against his ribs. *Safe mode? Great Sage? Any ideas that don't involve me becoming a stain on the pavement?*
<
However.
The air temperature dropped to absolute zero.
It wasn't a spell. It was a presence.
Milim, who had been about to "playfully" punch Rimuru (a punch that would have vaporized the upper torso), froze mid-step. Her twin tails stopped swaying. Her smile vanished, replaced by a look of sharp, crystalline focus.
She turned her head, ignoring the slime, ignoring the Kijin scrambling to their feet. Her electric blue eyes locked onto the ridge overlooking the plaza.
Nova stood there.
He hadn't moved. He hadn't drawn a weapon. He hadn't released a wave of killing intent. He had simply removed the veil of "insignificance" he usually wore, allowing a fraction of his true nature to bleed into the world.
To the Kijin, Nova looked the same as always: terrifyingly calm.
To Rimuru, Nova looked like safety.
But to Milim Nava, who possessed the [Milim Eye]—the ultimate analytical tool capable of seeing the truth of souls—Nova looked like a void in the shape of a man.
She saw the layers of reality warping around him. She saw the infinite computational webbing of Ciel constantly adjusting the universe to fit him. She saw a being that didn't belong in the story, a scribbled-out error that had decided to become the narrator.
"Hoh?" Milim's voice dropped an octave. The playfulness was gone. The Destroyer remained.
She abandoned Rimuru instantly, kicking off the ground with enough force to crack the bedrock, launching herself straight at the ridge.
"Nova!" Rimuru screamed.
Nova watched her come. He didn't flinch. He didn't dodge.
*Ciel. Kinetic dampening field. Vector redirection. Zero-point enforcement.*
<
Milim threw a punch. It was a blow meant to test, not to kill, but it still carried the weight of a colliding asteroid.
Nova raised one hand.
*BOOM.*
The sound was deafening, a crack of thunder that shattered every window within a mile. Dust plumed upward in a violent column.
When the dust settled, the goblins and Kijin gasped.
Nova stood exactly where he had been. His boots hadn't slid back an inch. His gloved hand was open, and caught within his palm was Milim's fist. The air around the point of impact was shimmering, fractured like broken glass, struggling to hold reality together against the clash of two absolute forces.
Milim's eyes were wide. She stared at her hand, then up at Nova's face.
His expression was bored.
"A greeting usually involves words, Milim Nava," Nova said, his voice cutting through the ringing silence. "Not structural damage."
Milim trembled.
For a second, Rimuru thought she was angry.
Then, a grin split her face—a grin so wide, so manic, it showed every one of her teeth.
"Awesome!" she shrieked. "You blocked it! You actually blocked it!"
She yanked her hand back and did a backflip, landing in a crouch, vibrating with excitement. "I haven't felt a wall like that in… forever! Who are you? Are you a Demon Lord? A True Dragon? No, you feel weirder than Uncle Veldora!"
Nova adjusted his glove, the movement deliberate and slow. "I am Nova. Just Nova."
"Just Nova," she repeated, rolling the name on her tongue. "Liar! 'Just Nova' doesn't stop my punch with one hand!"
She prepared to launch herself again, magicules flaring violet and enraged. "Let's go again! Harder this time!"
"No."
Nova didn't shout. He spoke the word with the weight of a decree.
He pointed a finger at Rimuru, who was cautiously approaching with a jar in his hands.
"If you fight me," Nova said calmly, "you miss the honey."
Milim froze. The destructive aura sputtered. "…Honey?"
Rimuru, seizing the lifeline Nova had thrown, stepped up, sweating bullets. "Y-Yes! It's… uh… the finest delicacy of the Jura Forest! Better than fighting! Tastier than destruction!"
He opened the jar. The sweet scent wafted through the air.
Milim's nose twitched. The Dragon Eye deactivated. The Destroyer vanished. In her place stood a drooling child.
"I-I suppose… a true Demon Lord must sample the local tribute," she stammered, trying to maintain dignity while eyeing the spoon.
Rimuru shoved the spoon into her mouth.
The sugar hit her system. Her eyes sparkled.
"Delicious!"
Nova exhaled slowly, his tails briefly flickering into existence behind him before fading.
*Crisis averted by high-fructose corn syrup,* he thought. *The dignity of this world's power hierarchy is non-existent.*
<
Nova closed his eyes. *Wonderful.*
***
The city of Rimuru (a name the slime was still embarrassed about) had adapted to many things: direwolves, goblins, dwarves, kijin. But adapting to Milim Nava was like trying to domesticate a hurricane.
By the afternoon, the town was in a state of controlled chaos. Milim had already declared herself a resident, demanded "better clothes" (which Shuna happily provided, turning the Demon Lord into a doll to be dressed up), and eaten half the town's winter reserves of honey.
Rimuru was exhausted. He sat in the newly built conference hall, slumping over the table.
"She's… a lot," he muttered.
Nova stood by the window, watching Milim outside. She was currently showing Gabiru—who had somehow failed to be exiled and instead become a local nuisance—how to properly flex.
"She is a strategic asset," Nova said, though his tone suggested he was trying to convince himself. "Her presence here is the ultimate deterrent. No other Demon Lord will move against us directly while the Destroyer is playing in our garden."
"Yeah, but Clayman and the others… won't they think we've allied with her to take over the world or something?"
"They already think that," Nova replied. "Fear is clarity. Let them be terrified."
"You're doing the scary overlord voice again."
"Focus, Rimuru." Nova turned. "Milim is not just a child. She is thousands of years old. She plays the fool because brilliance is lonely. Do not mistake her whimsy for ignorance. If you bore her, she might destroy this city just to see the fireworks."
Rimuru gulped. "Got it. Keep the Demon Lord entertained. No pressure."
"None at all."
Later that evening, the inevitable happened.
Nova had retreated to the roof of the central building, seeking the silence of the stars. It was his ritual—a moment to disconnect from the noise of existence.
But tonight, the silence was broken.
"Found you!"
Milim landed on the roof tiles with a softness that belied her power. She was wearing the new outfit Shuna had made—a cute, frilly Gothic-Lolita dress that made her look even more harmless.
Nova didn't turn around. "I wasn't hiding."
"You were," Milim countered, skipping over to sit on the ledge beside him. She swung her legs over the abyss, humming. "You're always hiding. Even when you're standing right there. You wear a human suit, but underneath… nothing."
She leaned in, her blue eyes piercing. "Or maybe, just a lot of noise that sounds like nothing."
Nova glanced at her. "Insightful."
"I have good eyes," she grinned, tapping her temple. "So, Nova. What are you? A traveler from another world? A True Dragon's lost cousin? An experiment gone wrong?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes! Because if I don't know what you are, I don't know how to break you."
Nova's lips quirked. "Is that your only interaction with the world? Breaking it?"
Milim stopped kicking her legs. Her smile didn't fade, but it grew rigid. "That's what I'm for. That's my job. The Destroyer. I keep the balance by making sure nothing gets too big."
She looked out over the sparkling lights of the monster town.
"This place is getting big," she whispered. "Normally… I'd have to squash it."
Nova felt the shift in the air. This was the edge of the knife.
"But you won't," Nova said.
"Why not?" She looked at him, challenging.
"Because this place offers something destruction cannot."
"Honey?"
"Novelty," Nova corrected. "And… the absence of expectation."
He turned fully toward her, leaning back against the roof's peak.
"Everywhere you go, they see the Destroyer. They beg for mercy, or they flee, or they die. It's a boring script. Here? Rimuru sees a bratty kid who needs to brush her teeth. Shuna sees a mannequin. And I…"
He paused.
Milim leaned closer, her breath held. "And you?"
"I see someone who is bored out of her mind."
Milim stared at him. The silence stretched, heavy and profound.
Then, she laughed—not the loud, boisterous laugh from before, but a soft, genuine giggle.
"You're mean, Nova. You see too much."
She flopped back onto the roof tiles, staring up at the stars.
"It's true," she murmured. "It's so boring. Being the strongest. Everyone is made of glass. I poke them, and they shatter. But you… you didn't shatter."
She lifted a hand, tracing a constellation.
"Hey, Nova. If I stay here… will you fight me for real one day?"
Nova looked down at the ancient, terrifying child.
*Ciel. Probability of survival in an all-out engagement with Milim Nava?*
<
*Thought so.*
"Perhaps," Nova said aloud. "If the world becomes dull enough."
Milim beamed. "Promise! It's a promise!"
She sat up. "You know, Clayman is going to be super pissed I'm here. He had this whole plan with the Orc Lord. He thinks he's so smart, moving pieces around."
"He is a marionette who thinks he holds the strings," Nova said dismissively.
"Exactly! It's hilarious!" Milim giggled. "He's trying to wake up a True Demon Lord. He wants to be one of us. It's adorable."
She looked at Nova slyly. "You could stomp him, you know. I can tell. You could crush him from here without even getting up."
"I could."
"Why don't you?"
Nova looked at the moon, his eyes reflecting the silver light.
"Because it's Rimuru's story. I'm just the editor."
Milim tilted her head, confused by the term, but she smiled anyway. "Editor… sounds powerful."
"It has its moments."
***
**Scene: The Hall of Puppets**
Miles away, in a castle woven from shadows and pretension, Demon Lord Clayman shattered a wine glass. The crimson liquid stained the expensive rug, looking uncomfortably like blood.
"She's… WHERE?!"
The trembling spy, a harpy with clipped wings, pressed her forehead into the cold stone floor. "In… in the Jura Forest, my Lord. In the town of the slime. Milim Nava has… moved in."
Clayman's eye twitched. The elegant mask of the tactician cracked, revealing the panicked schemer beneath.
"The Destroyer? Living with the slime?! Why?! Is it a whim? Or does she know?!"
He paced frantically, his velvet cape swirling. This was impossible. Milim was a chaotic variable, yes, but she never settled. She wandered, destroyed, and left. For her to ally—or at least cohabitate—with the entity that defeated the Orc Lord…
"And… the other one?" Clayman hissed. "The unknown?"
"We… we still cannot see him clearly, my Lord. But reports say… when Milim arrived, she attacked. And he… he stopped her."
Clayman froze.
"Stopped her?"
"With one hand, my Lord. Without magic."
Clayman collapsed into his throne, his legs suddenly weak.
"Stopped… Milim… with one hand."
His plans were crumbling. The Orc Lord was gone. Shizue Izawa was dead, her fire consumed. And now, two entities of catastrophic power were sitting in the middle of his chessboard, likely laughing at him.
He gritted his teeth, his fear twisting into a desperate, rabid fury.
"Fine. If brute force won't work… we change the game. I need information. I need leverage."
He looked at the crystals floating around the room, souls trapped in eternal torment.
"Wake the beast," he whispered to the shadows. "Prepare Charybdis. If they want a challenge… I'll give them a calamity they can't punch their way out of."
***
**Side Story – The Review Board**
The meta-void was unusually noisy today.
JACW was pacing—a swirling vortex of irritation. "She's a trope! A walking, talking, pink-haired trope! The 'Ancient Loli Powerhouse.' It's cliché!"
The One Above All (TOAA) didn't look up from his crossword puzzle. "It's a staple of the genre. Besides, she serves a narrative function. She's the ceiling. She shows the protagonist how far they still have to go."
"But Nova doesn't have to go anywhere!" JACW argued. "He stopped her punch! With one hand! Do you know what the forums are doing? They're calculating the newtons of force! They're arguing about whether he used 'Infinity' or just raw strength! It's chaos!"
The Presence chimed in, calm as a tomb. "It was effective."
"Effective?!" JACW sputtered. "It completely undermines the tension!"
"No," The Presence corrected. "It recontextualizes the tension. The tension isn't 'Can Nova survive Milim?' The tension is 'Can Nova keep Milim from accidentally sneezing and destroying the plot?'"
TOAA chuckled. "He bought her off with honey. It's classic. I like her. She disrupts Nova's brooding. Did you see him on the roof? He almost had a genuine human connection. Disgusting."
"He called himself an 'Editor'," JACW noted, narrowing his eyes. "That was a jab at you, wasn't it?"
TOAA smirked. "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Besides, he's not wrong. He's curating the timeline. Rimuru is the writer, flailing wildly at the keyboard. Nova is the one fixing the grammar and cutting the boring scenes."
"Speaking of boring scenes," The Presence rumbled, "Clayman is plotting again."
JACW groaned. "Oh, that guy. Can we just skip him? He's so… villain-by-numbers. Mustache-twirling, wine-glass-shattering… can Nova just blink him out of existence?"
"He could," TOAA said. "But he won't. Because Rimuru needs the XP."
"Rimuru is a slime. He doesn't need XP. He needs therapy," JACW muttered.
"Don't we all," TOAA sighed. "Don't we all."
***
**Back in the Jura Forest**
The morning sun rose over the newly named Tempest Federation. The streets were already bustling.
Rimuru walked toward the plaza, looking tired. Milim was hanging off his back, literally, demanding breakfast.
"Rimuru! Rimuru! I want pancakes! I heard Shuna talking about pancakes!"
"Get off, you're heavy! And how do you even know what pancakes are?"
"I have ears! Feed me!"
Nova walked a few paces behind them, sipping a cup of tea he had materialized from nowhere.
"Morning, Nova!" Rimuru cried out, desperate for backup. "Help me!"
Nova took a sip of tea. "I believe this falls under 'Diplomatic Relations', Chancellor Rimuru. It is outside my jurisdiction."
"You traitor!"
Milim looked back at Nova and stuck out her tongue. Nova merely raised his cup in a toast.
*Ciel,* Nova thought. *Status on the city's structural integrity?*
<
*And the external threats?*
<
Nova watched the slime and the Dragonoid bicker over breakfast food.
The calm before the storm was always the loudest part.
"Let them come," Nova whispered into his tea. "We have pancakes."