The Interlude: The Fate of the Conqueror of Flames. flash back. While the construction of the town was underway, a small group of human adventurers had stumbled into the forest. Among them was an elderly woman with a hauntingly beautiful face—Shizue Izawa.
Kaito had watched from the shadows, his Mnemosyne skill instantly flagging her.
[Notice: Individual 'Shizue Izawa' identified. Title: Conqueror of Flames. High-density fire mana detected. Warning: Internal containment of 'Greater Elemental: Ifrit' is failing.]
Kaito knew he couldn't "fix" her soul—it was already too fragmented—but he acted as the anchor during the battle. When Ifrit finally manifested, turning the village into a furnace, Kaito had used his Phase Shift to move the Goblins to safety while Rimuru fought the fire giant.
After the battle, as Shizu lay in the clinic, Kaito sat by her side. He used his silver-spirit essence to soothe her pain, acting as a cooling balm against the literal "burn" of her fading life force.
"You... you are so bright," Shizu had whispered, looking at Kaito's shimmering form. "Like a star that fell into the woods."
"I am just a record-keeper, Shizu," Kaito replied softly. "I will make sure your story isn't forgotten."
When she finally passed, and Rimuru took on her likeness to honor her, Kaito archived the event with a heavy heart. He didn't just record her skills; he recorded her will. This is why, when the Ogres arrived in Chapter 5, Rimuru was already in his human form, carrying the mask that symbolized his promise to her.
Flash back done.
The village of Tempest was no longer a collection of hovels. Under the guidance of Kaijin and the Dwarven brothers, it had transformed into a burgeoning town of sturdy timber and stone. The Hobgoblins had proven to be industrious students, and the forest echoed with the sound of saws and hammers. Yet, amidst the progress, a heavy tension hung in the air. The Ultimate Skill: Mnemosyne was picking up ripples in the magicule atmosphere—scents of smoke, blood, and a desperate, burning rage approaching from the east.
Kaito stood on the roof of the newly constructed central hall, his silver hair fluttering in the wind. Beside him, Rimuru, in his human form—a form he had recently acquired after the tragic passing of Shizue Izawa—looked toward the treeline.
"They're close, aren't they?" Rimuru asked, his voice soft. He was still wearing Shizue's mask, tucked to the side of his head.
"Six signatures," Kaito confirmed. "High magicule density. Far beyond a typical monster. They're Ogres, but they're exhausted. And they're looking for someone to blame for their home being burned to ash."
[Notice: Analyzing target signatures. Identified: Ogre survivors. Status: Enraged/Berserk. Warning: Misunderstanding imminent. Probability of peaceful initial contact: 12%.]
"Only twelve percent?" Kaito muttered. "Mnemosyne, you really don't have much faith in my diplomatic skills today."
'I'll take the lead,' Rimuru said, jumping down from the roof. 'If they're looking for a fight, I'd rather we resolve it before they hurt any of the Goblins.'
Kaito followed, but he didn't walk. He shifted into his Phase Shift state, a shimmering silver phantom that glided through the air. "I'll provide the backup. These aren't like the Direwolves, Rimuru. They have technique."
They met the Ogres in a clearing just outside the town. The six survivors were a striking sight: a tall Ogre with crimson skin and a massive nodachi, a princess with pink hair and elegant robes, a hulking warrior with a heavy mace, an old master with a wooden sword, and two others. They were covered in soot and blood, their eyes clouded by grief.
"Stop right there, monsters!" the red-skinned Ogre roared, drawing his blade. The air around him shimmered with heat. "Are you the ones behind the Orc attack? Are you the masked masterminds?"
Rimuru raised his hands. "Wait! We don't know anything about an Orc attack! We're just—"
"Lies!" the Ogre Princess cried out. "You wear the mask of the one who slaughtered our kin!"
The red Ogre didn't wait for another word. He lunged, his blade trailing fire. Rimuru moved to parry with his own sword, but a silver blur intercepted the strike.
Clang!
Kaito had materialized between them, his forearm turned into a shield of mirror-polished magisteel. The Ogre's massive blade struck the silver surface and rebounded with a bone-jarring vibration.
"Your anger is misplaced, Ogre," Kaito said, his voice cold and resonant. "If we were the ones who destroyed your village, we wouldn't be standing here talking. We would have finished the job."
"Out of my way, spirit!" the Ogre yelled, swinging again with even greater force.
Kaito didn't move. He used Archivist—now part of Mnemosyne—to analyze the Ogre's movement in milliseconds.
[Notice: Skill 'Ogre Combat Arts' detected. Replicating... Success. Replicating: 'Flame Motion'.]
Kaito's own hand ignited, but not with orange fire. It was a brilliant, searing blue flame—the result of his refined magicule control. He caught the Ogre's blade with his bare hand, the heat of the clash melting the grass beneath them.
"Rimuru, handle the old one!" Kaito shouted. "The swordsman is dangerous!"
The old Ogre, Hakuro, moved like a ghost. Even with his wooden sword, he was a threat to Rimuru's human form. Meanwhile, the other Ogres joined the fray. The blue-skinned Ogre lunged at Kaito with a spear, and the dark-skinned warrior swung his mace.
Kaito sighed. "Mnemosyne, initiate 'Multi-Process Mirror.' Let's show them why you don't pick a fight with a record-keeper."
Kaito's body suddenly split. Not through simple speed, but through the creation of high-density spirit clones—each one a perfect reflection.
One Kaito intercepted the spear, his body phasing through the wood and delivering a palm strike that sent the blue Ogre skidding back. Another Kaito met the mace-user, using the warrior's own momentum to throw him over his shoulder. The original Kaito remained locked in a stalemate with the red Ogre leader.
"Enough!" Rimuru's voice boomed. He had managed to disarm the others using 'Steel Thread' and his own superior speed. He unleashed a burst of his Aura—the overwhelming pressure of a True Dragon's kin.
The Ogres froze. The sheer weight of Rimuru's magicules, combined with the cold, unyielding presence of Kaito, finally cracked their wall of rage.
The red Ogre looked at Kaito, then at his fallen comrades. His breathing was ragged. "Why… why don't you kill us?"
Kaito deactivated his blue flames, his hands returning to their smooth, silver state. "Because we know what it's like to lose something. And because," he pointed to the mask on Rimuru's head, "my brother didn't steal that mask. He inherited it from a friend. A hero."
The Ogre Princess, Shuna, stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Kaito's silver form. "You… you are a Primordial Echo. A spirit of the world's memory. You cannot lie."
Kaito bowed slightly. "I am Kaito Tempest. And we have a common enemy. The Orcs are being manipulated by someone powerful. If you want your revenge, you won't find it by dying in a clearing against us. You'll find it by joining us."
The red Ogre sheathed his blade, his head bowing in shame. "I am Benimaru. We have acted dishonorably. If you will have us… we offer our blades to your cause."
[Notice: Six high-tier Ogre survivors have pledged their loyalty. Commencing naming ceremony?]
"Oh boy," Rimuru whispered, shifting back into his slime form. "Kaito, I think I'm going to be out for a week this time."
"Don't worry, brother," Kaito said, patting the slime. "I'll handle the heavy lifting. I've already archived enough ambient mana from the forest's ley lines to name them all twice over."
Kaito stepped toward the Ogres. As he spoke their names—Benimaru, Shuna, Hakuro, Shion, Souei, and Kurobe—the silver light of his essence washed over them. The evolution began instantly. The Ogres didn't just become stronger; they became Kijin—Fairly Ogres, beings of near-divine power.
As the light faded, Benimaru stood taller, his hair a vibrant crimson, his eyes sharp with newfound purpose. Hakuro looked younger, his grip on his sword even more precise.
"Lord Kaito, Lord Rimuru," Benimaru said, kneeling with the others. "Command us, and we shall obey."
Kaito looked at the horizon, where the massive magicule signature of the Orc Disaster was beginning to grow. The Orc Lord was coming, 200,000 strong.
"Rest for now," Kaito said, his mirror-like eyes reflecting the setting sun. "Tomorrow, we prepare for war. We're going to show this forest that the Tempest name isn't just a title. It's a storm."