Chapter 1: When Worlds Collide
The inhabitants of Tempest looked up in collective awe and terror as the marble city continued its gentle descent. Throughout the federation, activities ground to a halt—merchants abandoned their stalls, warriors dropped their training weapons, and children stopped their games, all eyes drawn to the impossible sight above them.
In the government building, emergency alarms blared as ministers and officials scrambled to respond to a situation none of their protocols had anticipated.
Rimuru Tempest, the slime-turned-Demon Lord who had transformed a forest of monsters into a thriving nation, stood on the highest balcony, blue hair whipping in the sudden wind that accompanied the celestial city's arrival.
"Rimuru-sama," Shion appeared beside him, her purple hair disheveled from her sprint to reach him, "the barrier teams report their magic is completely ineffective. It's like... it's like the incoming structure exists in a different layer of reality."
"I can see that," Rimuru replied, his usually cheerful demeanor replaced by uncharacteristic tension. "Ciel, analysis?"
The primordial intelligence within him responded instantly, though even her typically confident voice held a note of uncertainty.
[Warning: Entity classification beyond standard parameters. Power readings exceed measurable scale. Multiple divine-class beings detected. Primary entity at the center possesses Authority-type conceptual energy unlike anything in recorded history.]
"Well, that's not concerning at all," Rimuru muttered, his sarcasm barely masking genuine worry.
Diablo materialized on his other side, the primordial demon's usual smile nowhere to be seen. "Master, I recommend immediate evacuation of all non-combatants. Whatever this is... it's beyond even me."
Before Rimuru could respond, the booming voice from above echoed again across Tempest.
"I, RAMIRIS, SUPREME MONARCH OF AVALON EVERNIGHT, HAVE DECIDED TO GRACE YOUR LITTLE REALM WITH MY AUGUST PRESENCE. PREPARE TO RECEIVE ME APPROPRIATELY... OR DON'T. YOUR CHOICE, THOUGH I RECOMMEND THE FORMER."
A pause, then in a more conversational tone that somehow still carried to every corner of the federation:
"OH, AND IF WHOEVER RUNS THIS PLACE COULD STEP FORWARD, THAT WOULD SAVE US ALL SOME TEDIOUS SEARCHING. THANK YOU IN ADVANCE."
Rimuru's eye twitched slightly. "Did he just... call Tempest 'little'?"
Shion's hand tightened on her sword. "Such disrespect to Rimuru-sama cannot stand!"
"No," Rimuru said firmly, placing a restraining hand on her arm. "We don't know what we're dealing with. Benimaru!"
The flame-haired ogre commander appeared instantly. "Orders?"
"Defensive positions only. No provocative actions. I'll meet this... Ramiris... personally."
"But Master—" began Diablo, his concern evident.
"I know," Rimuru cut him off with a determined expression. "But if this visitor wanted destruction, he wouldn't announce himself. Something else is happening here."
[Caution advised. Recommend full activation of all Ultimate Skills as precaution.]
"Already on it, Ciel."
As the floating city stabilized about a thousand feet above Tempest's central plaza, a beam of golden light shot down from its underside, striking the plaza's center. Rather than causing destruction, it formed what appeared to be a perfect staircase of solidified light, extending from the ground up to the marble city.
"Well," Rimuru sighed, adjusting his coat, "I guess that's my invitation."
Atop the descending city of Avalon Evernight, Ramiris lounged on his portable throne (specifically designed for diplomatic visits), watching the commotion below with obvious amusement.
"They're scurrying about like ants who've spotted a boot hovering overhead," he observed with a chuckle. "Adorable, really."
Queen Gilgamesh stood beside him, her crimson eyes scanning the settlement critically. "This 'Tempest Federation' has some interesting artifacts, my Glorious Ramiris. Nothing approaching true treasures, but perhaps worth cataloging nonetheless."
"Always the collector," Ramiris teased, reaching up to pat her hand affectionately. "Try not to appropriate their entire cultural heritage during our visit, hmm?"
"I make no promises," she replied with a smirk.
Arcueid bounced excitedly on her heels, peering over the edge of the floating city. "Ooh! They have beastmen and demons and dragons! This world is so colorful, My Ramiris! Can I go explore? Please, please, please?"
"Patience, moonlight," Ramiris replied. "Proper introductions first, then exploration."
Void Shiki, standing silently as always, suddenly spoke. "He approaches. The blue-haired one with the overwhelming aura."
Ramiris sat up straighter, golden eyes sparkling with interest. "Ah! Our host arrives. Tiamat, is our welcome prepared?"
The maternal goddess nodded serenely. "Yes, Beloved King. The greeting hall is arranged exactly as you specified."
"Excellent! Kali, no bloodshed unless absolutely necessary."
The fierce goddess of destruction looked momentarily disappointed but bowed in acknowledgment. "As you command, Supreme Monarch. I shall restrain my dance of death... for now."
"Such sacrifice," Ramiris teased. "Truly your devotion knows no bounds."
The maids arranged themselves in formal welcoming formation as a figure became visible ascending the golden staircase. Ramiris straightened his cape and adopted an expression of casual superiority.
"Remember, everyone," he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "first impressions are everything."
Rimuru had faced many challenges since his reincarnation in this world—demon lords, eastern empire armies, even a fight with a True Dragon. But nothing had quite prepared him for what awaited at the top of the golden staircase.
The entryway to the floating city opened into a vast hall of polished white marble veined with what appeared to be actual liquid starlight. Columns of impossible architecture supported a ceiling that somehow contained what looked like actual galaxies swirling in slow motion. The beauty was so overwhelming it momentarily distracted from the truly concerning sight at the hall's center.
There, lounging on an elaborate throne, sat a white-haired man with golden eyes that literally sparkled with inner light. His casual posture conveyed absolute confidence, while his slight smile suggested he found everything mildly amusing. The half-cape draped over one shoulder somehow managed to billow dramatically despite the lack of wind.
More alarmingly, surrounding him stood an array of women in elaborate maid uniforms, each radiating power that made Rimuru's Ultimate Skills scream warnings. These were not ordinary maids—each projected an aura that suggested they could annihilate mountains as an afterthought.
[Extreme danger. Entity classification: Beyond Divine. Recommend maximum caution.]
"Welcome!" called the throne's occupant cheerfully, as if he were greeting an expected guest rather than someone whose domain he had just invaded. "You must be the one in charge around here. Excellent timing!"
Rimuru approached cautiously, stopping at what he hoped was a respectful yet not submissive distance. "I am Rimuru Tempest, leader of the Jura Tempest Federation. And you are...?"
"Ramiris," the man replied, somehow making the simple introduction sound like a royal proclamation. "Supreme Monarch of Avalon Evernight, King Among Kings, Master of the Absolute, etcetera, etcetera." He waved a hand dismissively at the remaining titles. "We could be here all day with the full introduction, and I've found brevity makes for better conversation."
"I... see," said Rimuru carefully. "May I ask why you've brought your... impressive city... to rest above my nation?"
"Excellent question!" Ramiris clapped his hands once, the sound ringing with unusual clarity. "Direct and to the point. I appreciate that in a ruler." He leaned forward conspirationally. "The truth is, we're on vacation."
Rimuru blinked. "Vacation?"
"Indeed! After eons of maintaining cosmic balance, preventing multiversal collapse, and generally being fabulous, my court and I felt we deserved a little recreational time." Ramiris gestured expansively around him. "Your charming little realm appeared in our scrying pool as a potential destination—unusual magical development, interesting societal structure, decent climate, and," he added with a wink, "apparently excellent cuisine, according to our advance research."
"You... brought a floating city of divine beings... to Tempest... for a vacation?" Rimuru struggled to process this explanation.
"Precisely!" Ramiris smiled brilliantly. "Though I should clarify—Avalon Evernight itself is merely a small extension of my actual realm. Think of it as a... mobile vacation home."
One of the maids—a stunning woman with golden hair and crimson eyes that matched her master's in arrogance—stepped forward. "My Glorious Ramiris speaks truth. We have no interest in conquest or conflict. Your pitiful kingdom is safe from our power."
"Queen Gilgamesh," Ramiris chided gently, "what have we discussed about diplomatic phrasing?"
The golden-haired woman sighed. "My apologies, King of Kings. Your quaint kingdom is safe from our power," she corrected, though her tone suggested the distinction was minimal.
"Better," Ramiris nodded approvingly before turning his attention back to Rimuru. "Please excuse my Keeper of Relics. She's still working on her interpersonal skills after several millennia of unquestioned divine authority."
Rimuru stood speechless, trying to process the bizarre situation. His usual diplomatic strategies seemed woefully inadequate for dealing with visitors who casually referred to "multiversal collapse" and treated divine authority as commonplace.
[Analysis suggests they are being truthful about non-hostile intentions. However, power readings remain beyond measurable parameters. Recommend cautious cooperation while gathering more information.]
Taking Ciel's advice, Rimuru cleared his throat. "Well then... welcome to Tempest. If it's hospitality you seek, we're known for our friendliness to visitors. Though I must admit, we usually receive advance notice for diplomatic visits."
"Ah, but where's the fun in that?" Ramiris replied with a casual wave. "Spontaneity keeps existence interesting, don't you think?"
Before Rimuru could respond, another maid stepped forward—this one with an aura of primordial creation that made the air around her shimmer with potential life.
"My Beloved King," she addressed Ramiris with maternal affection, "perhaps our arrival has been somewhat... startling for our hosts. Maybe a more formal diplomatic exchange would ease tensions?"
Ramiris's expression softened as he regarded her. "Always the voice of wisdom, Tiamat. Very well." He turned back to Rimuru with a more measured demeanor. "As a sign of our peaceful intentions, I propose an exchange: My court and I would like to experience your federation's culture, cuisine, and unique attributes. In return, we offer knowledge, artifacts of moderate power, and a temporary alliance should any threats arise during our stay."
"That sounds... reasonable," Rimuru replied carefully. "How long do you anticipate your visit lasting?"
"Oh, a few weeks, perhaps a month?" Ramiris shrugged casually. "Time is rather fluid from our perspective. But don't worry—we'll keep our city hovering at a respectable altitude so as not to cast too much shadow on your daily activities."
Rimuru considered this proposal. On one hand, hosting beings of such overwhelming power presented obvious risks. On the other hand, refusing them seemed both impractical and potentially more dangerous.
"Very well," he decided. "Tempest welcomes you and your... court. We'll arrange appropriate accommodations and cultural exchanges."
"Splendid!" Ramiris clapped his hands together, looking genuinely pleased. "And to show our goodwill, I shall limit my entourage to just twelve of my maids for direct interactions with your people. The rest will remain aboard Avalon Evernight, enjoying their vacation without troubling your citizens."
A small blonde maid—looking deceptively innocent despite an aura that suggested she could shatter continents—bounced forward excitedly. "Can I be one of the twelve? Please, My Ramiris? I want to see everything!"
"Of course, Arcueid," Ramiris replied indulgently. "Your enthusiasm for new experiences is precisely what this cultural exchange needs."
Rimuru watched this interaction with fascination. Despite their obviously hierarchical relationship, there was genuine affection in how Ramiris addressed his "maids"—and their devotion to him seemed to go far beyond mere servitude.
"If I may," Rimuru ventured, "I'd like to introduce you to my own ministers and arrange a proper welcome banquet. Despite the... unexpected nature of your arrival, Tempest prides itself on hospitality."
"A banquet!" Ramiris's eyes lit up with genuine pleasure. "How delightful! We accept your gracious offer, Demon Lord Rimuru."
Rimuru blinked in surprise. "You know I'm a Demon Lord?"
Ramiris waved dismissively. "We did our research before choosing a vacation spot. Your ascension to Demon Lord status, your victory over the Eastern Empire, your alliance with the True Dragon Veldora—all quite impressive for one so young."
He leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile. "Though I must say, your original form as a slime is particularly charming. Perhaps you might demonstrate it during our stay? Several of my court have developed a curious interest in your transformation abilities."
Rimuru wasn't sure whether to be flattered or concerned by this level of knowledge about him. "I'll... consider it. Now, shall we proceed to Tempest proper? I believe my people will be eager to meet our... distinguished visitors."
"Lead on, Demon Lord of Tempest," Ramiris gestured graciously. "My selected court and I shall follow."
As Rimuru turned to descend the golden staircase, he couldn't help but wonder what exactly he had gotten his nation into. Behind him, Ramiris exchanged amused glances with his maids, clearly enjoying the Demon Lord's discomfort.
"This," the Supreme Monarch whispered to Tiamat as they prepared to follow, "is going to be so much fun."
The Mother of Creation merely sighed indulgently. "Just try not to break their reality too much, Beloved King. We are guests, after all."
"No promises," Ramiris replied with a wink, before striding forward to begin what would undoubtedly be Tempest's most unusual diplomatic encounter yet.
Chapter 2: Cultural Shock
The sight of Rimuru Tempest leading a procession of otherworldly beings down a staircase of solid light was enough to draw every citizen of Tempest into the central plaza. Murmurs spread through the crowd as they took in the visitors—particularly the elaborate maid uniforms that somehow managed to be both elegant and intimidating.
At the base of the staircase waited Rimuru's inner circle: Benimaru, the flame-haired ogre commander; Shion, clutching her sword with barely-restrained suspicion; Shuna, maintaining perfect princess composure despite the extraordinary circumstances; Diablo, whose typical smile had been replaced with analytical observation; and several others, all radiating readiness should their leader require protection.
"Everyone," Rimuru announced with forced cheerfulness, "I'd like to introduce our... unexpected guests. This is Ramiris, Supreme Monarch of Avalon Evernight, and his court. They'll be visiting Tempest for a cultural exchange."
Ramiris stepped forward, his presence causing several of Tempest's strongest to unconsciously step back. His golden eyes swept over the gathered monsters-turned-citizens with undisguised curiosity.
"Greetings, people of Tempest," he proclaimed, his voice carrying effortlessly across the plaza. "My maids and I look forward to experiencing your unique culture." He gestured to the massive floating city above. "Don't mind our mobile home—it's just more convenient than finding hotel accommodations for my entire court."
A beat of silence followed this casual explanation before Shuna, ever the diplomat, stepped forward with a perfect curtsy. "We are honored by your interest in our humble federation, Lord Ramiris. Please allow me to help arrange suitable activities for your stay."
"Charming!" Ramiris exclaimed, looking genuinely delighted. "And so polite! You must be Princess Shuna—your reputation for grace precedes you."
Shuna blinked in surprise at being recognized but maintained her composure. "You are well-informed, my lord."
"I make it a point to know the interesting people in any realm we visit," Ramiris replied with a casual shrug. "For instance," he continued, turning to the stoic flame-haired warrior, "you must be Benimaru, said to be Tempest's strongest after Rimuru himself."
Benimaru nodded stiffly, his eyes never leaving the maids who stood in perfect formation behind Ramiris. Their power was obvious to anyone with combat experience—and deeply unsettling.
"And this beauty with murder in her eyes must be Shion," Ramiris continued cheerfully, addressing the purple-haired oni who indeed looked ready to attack at the slightest provocation. "I've heard your cooking has... unique properties. How fascinating!"
Shion's grip on her sword tightened. "If you threaten Rimuru-sama in any way—"
"Oh, threats are so unnecessary," Ramiris waved dismissively. "If I wished harm upon your master or your charming federation, we wouldn't be having this conversation." His smile remained pleasant, but something in his eyes made even Shion hesitate.
Sensing rising tension, Rimuru quickly intervened. "Shuna, perhaps you could show our guests to the diplomatic quarter? I believe the eastern wing of the government building should be suitable."
"Actually," interjected one of Ramiris's maids—a stunning woman with violet hair and eyes that reflected endless death—"we have prepared our own accommodations."
With a casual gesture from the maid, twelve elegant pavilions materialized around the plaza's perimeter, each constructed of materials that seemed to shimmer between states of matter. The largest, situated directly opposite the government building, featured a small replica of Ramiris's throne visible through open silk curtains.
"Scáthach believes in being prepared," Ramiris explained with fond exasperation. "Though I did mention we would be offered local accommodations."
"I prefer our master to have his comforts," the maid—Scáthach—replied unapologetically. "The pavilions will not disturb your city's layout and can be removed without trace upon our departure."
Rimuru's eye twitched slightly at this casual display of reality-altering power. "How... convenient."
"Indeed!" agreed Ramiris brightly. "Now, I believe you mentioned something about a welcome banquet? My court and I have developed quite an appetite after dimensional travel."
Before Rimuru could respond, a commotion at the edge of the plaza drew everyone's attention. A massive figure pushed through the crowd—Veldora Tempest, the Storm Dragon in his human form, radiating curious excitement rather than his usual caution.
"I felt it!" he declared, striding forward with uncharacteristic eagerness. "A power beyond conventional reality! Something truly interesting has finally arrived!"
The maids tensed at the approach of the True Dragon, several shifting subtly into combat stances. Ramiris, however, merely looked amused.
"Ah, the infamous Storm Dragon," he observed. "Your sealing and subsequent liberation created quite the ripple across dimensional boundaries. Fascinating technique, that Infinite Prison."
Veldora stopped short, blinking in surprise. "You... know about that?"
"Of course," Ramiris replied casually. "Multiversal disturbances are something of a specialty of mine. Your predicament was particularly interesting from a conceptual imprisonment perspective."
The Storm Dragon's expression shifted rapidly from surprise to excitement. "Then you must be... yes! The conflux of absolute authority that I sensed!" He turned to Rimuru. "My friend, do you realize what stands before us? This is no ordinary visitor!"
"I gathered that," Rimuru replied dryly.
Veldora laughed his booming laugh. "Such modesty from our guest! This being exists outside conventional hierarchies of power! Even among True Dragons, such entities are considered more legend than fact!"
One of the maids—a petite figure with purple hair and a mischievous smile—bounced forward. "Oooh, a True Dragon who understands multiversal theory! How fun! Most dragons we meet are all 'rawr' and 'fear me' without any appreciation for interdimensional physics!"
"BB, contain your enthusiasm," chided another maid with golden armor visible beneath her uniform. "Not everyone appreciates your particular brand of exuberance."
"But Queen Gilgamesh," BB pouted, "he's a dragon who reads! That's like finding a singing rock or a dancing mountain—a delightful anomaly!"
Veldora, far from being offended, puffed up with pride. "Indeed! I am not merely a destroyer! My intellectual pursuits are vast and varied!"
"Primarily focused on manga," Rimuru muttered under his breath.
Ramiris's eyes lit up with interest. "Manga? The illustrated storytelling medium? How marvelous! I've encountered similar narrative formats across various realities, but each world develops such unique artistic expressions."
Veldora immediately warmed to the visitor. "You appreciate the art form? Then you must see my collection! I have obtained every volume published in this world!"
"I would be delighted," Ramiris replied sincerely. He turned to Rimuru with a smile. "Your companion has excellent taste. Perhaps cultural exchange will be even more rewarding than anticipated."
Rimuru sighed, already seeing where this was heading. "Shuna, please adjust the banquet preparations. It seems we'll need to include manga appreciation as part of our cultural presentation."
"Of course, Rimuru-sama," Shuna replied, though her expression suggested she found the direction of diplomatic relations somewhat unusual.
As arrangements proceeded for the welcome feast, citizens of Tempest cautiously approached the pavilions, curiosity gradually overcoming their initial fear. The maids, for their part, responded with varying degrees of friendliness—from Arcueid's enthusiastic waving to Void Shiki's silent observation to Queen Gilgamesh's imperial acknowledgment.
Ramiris watched it all with evident enjoyment, occasionally exchanging comments with Rimuru as they walked toward the government building.
"Your citizens adapt quickly," he observed. "Most populations tend to panic longer when faced with beings from beyond their conceptual framework."
"Tempest is used to unusual visitors," Rimuru replied. "Though I admit, none quite so... dramatic in their arrival."
Ramiris laughed, the sound like distant thunder and silver bells combined. "Dramatic entrances are something of a specialty. Hard to make an impression across the multiverse without a certain flair."
"Speaking of which," Rimuru ventured carefully, "what exactly is your... position? Veldora seemed quite impressed, and he's not easily awed."
"Position?" Ramiris considered the question. "I suppose 'Supreme Monarch' is the simplest translation, though languages throughout the multiverse struggle with the concept. I exist as the embodiment of absolute authority—the perfect expression of rulership given form."
"And your maids? They're clearly far more than servants."
Ramiris's expression softened as he glanced back at his following court. "They are the strongest beings from across countless realities, each having chosen to acknowledge my authority. Their service is voluntary—the ultimate expression of power recognizing greater power."
"I see," said Rimuru, though he clearly didn't entirely. "And your interest in Tempest is purely... recreational?"
"Absolutely," Ramiris confirmed with a casual wave. "Cosmic responsibility occasionally requires balance through leisure. Your federation represents a unique developmental pattern we haven't observed before—monsters evolving into a cooperative society under enlightened leadership." He winked. "Plus, I heard your hot springs are excellent."
Before Rimuru could respond to this unexpected motivation, they arrived at the government building's grand banquet hall, already being hastily prepared for the evening's feast.
"Perfect timing," Ramiris observed. "This will give my maids and I just enough time to freshen up before the festivities." He turned to Rimuru with a surprisingly genuine smile. "I do appreciate your adaptability, Demon Lord Rimuru. Many rulers would respond less graciously to our unexpected arrival."
"Let's just say I've learned the value of diplomatic flexibility," Rimuru replied wryly. "Besides, refusing hospitality to beings who casually manifest pavilions out of thin air seemed unwise."
Ramiris laughed appreciatively. "Pragmatic and honest! I like you already." He gestured to his maids. "Ladies, let us prepare for tonight's cultural exchange. Remember our agreement—no reality manipulation without approval, no challenging local champions to combat unless they explicitly request it, and absolutely no transforming irritating locals into decorative fountains, no matter how tempting."
Several of the maids looked mildly disappointed at these restrictions, particularly Kali, whose bloodthirsty smile suggested she had been hoping for at least some combat during their stay.
"My Supreme Monarch removes all my fun," she murmured, though the affection in her voice belied any real complaint.
"Now, now, Commander of Combat," Ramiris chided gently. "There will be plenty of opportunities for appropriate displays of skill. Save your dance of death for worthy occasions."
As the maids dispersed to their respective pavilions, Ramiris turned back to Rimuru. "Until this evening, then. I look forward to sampling your famous cuisine—particularly something called 'black pepper beef bowl' that appeared repeatedly in our research."
With that parting comment, he strolled away toward his pavilion, leaving Rimuru to wonder just how thoroughly these visitors had studied Tempest before their arrival.
Later that evening, as the sun set over Tempest, casting the floating city of Avalon Evernight in golden and crimson hues, the banquet hall filled with an unusual mixture of guests. Tempest's ministers and notable citizens mingled cautiously with Ramiris's maids, conversations oscillating between awkward and fascinated.
Shuna had outdone herself with the preparations, arranging a feast that showcased Tempest's finest cuisine alongside entertainment that highlighted the federation's unique cultural developments. Tables groaned under the weight of dishes ranging from elaborate masterpieces to simple favorites like the black pepper beef bowl Ramiris had mentioned.
The Supreme Monarch himself sat at the high table alongside Rimuru, Veldora, and several of his maids, including Tiamat, Queen Gilgamesh, and Void Shiki. His appreciation for the food seemed genuine, particularly when sampling Shuna's specialty dishes.
"Exquisite!" he declared after tasting a particularly elaborate creation. "The balance of flavors is remarkable. In some ways, it reminds me of celestial ambrosia, though with a delightful earthiness that divine food often lacks."
Shuna blushed at the extravagant praise. "You honor us, Lord Ramiris. Though I'm curious about these celestial foods you mention."
"Perhaps a cultural exchange in the literal sense?" Tiamat suggested, her maternal smile warming even the most nervous observers. "I could prepare some dishes from our realm for tomorrow's meal, if that would be acceptable."
"We would be honored," Shuna replied with genuine interest.
Nearby, Veldora had cornered BB and Arcueid, enthusiastically discussing the finer points of manga storytelling. To everyone's surprise, the maids seemed equally passionate about the topic, with BB producing from nowhere what appeared to be illustrated volumes from other dimensions for comparison.
"You see, the artistic evolution follows similar patterns across realities," she explained excitedly, "though the cultural influences create fascinating divergences in style and narrative focus!"
Veldora nodded sagely, clearly delighted to find kindred spirits. "Indeed! The visual language transcends mere words! Truly a superior storytelling medium!"
At another table, Benimaru found himself engaged in unexpectedly technical conversation with Scáthach and Kali regarding combat techniques. Despite his initial wariness, the ogre commander couldn't help but be drawn in by their analysis, which revealed combat experience spanning what seemed to be millennia.
"Your flame manipulation has potential," Kali observed critically. "But you rely too heavily on raw power rather than conceptual dominance."
"Conceptual... dominance?" Benimaru repeated, confusion evident.
"She means controlling the very idea of flame, rather than merely its physical manifestation," Scáthach clarified. "When you truly master an element, you don't just create fire—you become the authority through which fire expresses itself in reality."
Benimaru blinked, processing this perspective that went beyond any combat philosophy he had encountered. "That sounds... advanced."
"It is," Kali confirmed with a predatory smile. "But you have potential. Perhaps a demonstration could be arranged during our stay."
Meanwhile, Rimuru observed the interactions with a mixture of fascination and concern. Despite the overwhelming power of their visitors, the evening was proceeding remarkably smoothly. Even Shion, initially the most suspicious, had found herself engaged in conversation with Meltryllis regarding the finer points of weapon maintenance.
"Your visitors are quite... diverse in their interests," observed Diablo, who had positioned himself near Rimuru as always. "For beings of such power, they seem surprisingly engaged with mundane topics."
"I don't think they find anything truly mundane," Rimuru replied thoughtfully. "When you've existed as long as they apparently have, perhaps finding interest in everyday things becomes a necessity."
"A perceptive observation," commented Ramiris, who had approached silently despite the ongoing conversations around him. "Eternity becomes rather dull without appreciation for the seemingly ordinary."
Rimuru managed not to show his surprise at the Supreme Monarch's sudden appearance. "I imagine that's true. Though I doubt much about your existence could be called ordinary."
Ramiris laughed, the sound drawing attention from across the hall. "You'd be surprised. Absolute power has its tedium just like any other state of being." He gestured toward his maids, now scattered throughout the banquet, each engaged in different conversations. "That's part of why my court values these excursions. Fresh perspectives, novel experiences—they keep eternity interesting."
"And your relationship with your... maids," Rimuru ventured carefully. "It seems more complex than mere service."
"Far more," Ramiris confirmed, his expression softening as he watched Queen Gilgamesh imperiously explaining the concept of proper treasure categorization to an increasingly bewildered Gobta. "Each came to me through different paths—some sought to challenge me, others to learn from me, still others simply recognized something in me that resonated with their own nature."
He turned back to Rimuru, his golden eyes reflecting depths beyond their usual mischievous sparkle. "They serve willingly because they've found purpose in that service—something even absolute power alone cannot provide."
"Purpose," Rimuru repeated thoughtfully. "I understand that better than you might think."
"I believe you do," Ramiris nodded. "Your own journey from ordinary human to slime to Demon Lord—all driven by purpose rather than mere ambition. It's part of why your federation caught our attention."
Before Rimuru could respond to this surprisingly insightful assessment, a commotion near the entrance drew everyone's attention. A messenger hurried in, making directly for Rimuru with obvious urgency.
"Rimuru-sama!" the goblin called. "Word from our border patrols! A large force approaches from the east—flying the banner of the Kingdom of Falmuth!"
A tense silence fell over the Tempest contingent. Relations with Falmuth had improved since Rimuru's ascension to Demon Lord status, but remained complicated by history.
"How large a force?" Rimuru asked calmly.
"At least five thousand, Rimuru-sama. They claim to be responding to reports of 'a catastrophic magical anomaly' over Tempest." The messenger glanced nervously upward, clearly referring to the floating city still hovering above the federation.
"Well," Rimuru sighed, "I suppose that was inevitable. Please inform Falmuth's representatives that the situation is under control and invite their leadership to join our diplomatic reception."
"If I may," interjected Ramiris casually, "this sounds like a perfect opportunity for a practical demonstration of our goodwill." He turned to one of his quieter maids—Morgan, the Keeper of Secrets. "Perhaps you might assist with a more... elaborate welcome for our approaching friends?"
Morgan's lips curved in a subtle smile. "As you wish, Lord Beyond the Mists. I shall ensure they receive an appropriate reception."
Something in her tone made Rimuru suddenly concerned. "Nothing harmful, I hope?"
"Merely impressive," Ramiris assured him with a wink. "Sometimes a small display saves hours of tedious explanation."
As Morgan departed with fluid grace, Ramiris turned back to the feast, raising his glass in a toast. "To new friendships across realities—and to the entertaining diplomatic challenges they inevitably bring!"
The Tempest contingent exchanged uncertain glances, but raised their glasses nonetheless. Whatever was about to happen at the border, it seemed their unusual visitors considered it more amusement than crisis.
Rimuru could only hope the Kingdom of Falmuth would share that perspective.
Chapter 3: Divine Intervention
The Falmuth expeditionary force had made camp three miles from Tempest's eastern border, their temporary command tent filled with nervous officers studying maps and reports. Above the distant monster nation, clearly visible even at this distance, the floating marble city of Avalon Evernight hovered like an impossible moon, occasionally emitting pulses of golden light that illuminated the night sky.
"Reports confirm it appeared without warning two days ago," explained Captain Renault, pointing to hastily sketche
d diagrams. "Our mages detect power readings beyond anything in our records."
King Edmaris of Falmuth, who had personally led the expedition upon hearing of the anomaly, frowned deeply. "And Tempest has made no hostile moves? No demands?"
"None, Your Majesty. According to our intelligence, they appear to be... hosting these visitors."
"Hosting?" The king's frown deepened. "Tempest now entertains beings powerful enough to manifest floating cities? This shifts the power balance in the region considerably."
The discussion was interrupted by a sudden commotion outside. Guards shouted in alarm as a thick mist materialized from nowhere, surrounding the entire encampment in seconds.
"Defensive positions!" ordered General Folgen, but before anyone could properly react, the mist parted directly in front of the command tent.
A woman stood there—elegant and regal, wearing what appeared to be an elaborate maid uniform that somehow enhanced rather than diminished her obvious authority. Her eyes held ancient power, and her smile suggested she found their alarm mildly amusing.
"Greetings, representatives of Falmuth," she spoke, her voice carrying easily despite its soft tone. "I am Morgan, Keeper of Secrets, emissary of Ramiris, Supreme Monarch of Avalon Evernight."
Guards moved to surround her, weapons drawn, but with a casual gesture, she froze them in place—not with ice, but with a suspension of time itself around their bodies.
"Please," she sighed, "let's dispense with the tedious posturing. My Master extends an invitation to King Edmaris and his senior advisors to join the diplomatic reception currently underway in Tempest. This would be significantly more productive than your current approach."
King Edmaris, to his credit, maintained his composure despite the casual display of power that had immobilized his elite guards. "And if we decline this... invitation?"
Morgan's smile widened slightly. "Then you return to your kingdom, content in the knowledge that the situation is well in hand and requires no further investigation from Falmuth." Her eyes gleamed. "Of course, you would miss a unique opportunity to establish diplomatic relations with Avalon Evernight—a connection that other kingdoms would find... enviable."
The king exchanged glances with his advisors, quickly assessing the situation. This was clearly not a battle they could win. "How many may accompany me to this reception?"
"Five advisors, no more," Morgan replied. "And I would suggest formal attire rather than armor. This is a diplomatic banquet, not a battlefield negotiation."
After a brief consultation with his generals, King Edmaris nodded. "We accept your master's invitation. Allow us thirty minutes to prepare."
"Ten minutes," countered Morgan pleasantly. "A carriage awaits your readiness." With that, she stepped back into the mist, which swirled around her and dissipated, leaving the previously frozen guards confused and disoriented.
General Folgen turned to his king, face pale. "Your Majesty, surely you don't intend—"
"I absolutely intend to accept," interrupted Edmaris. "We've just witnessed power that could have annihilated our entire force without effort. Instead, we received an invitation to dinner." He straightened his robes. "Prepare my formal attire. Sometimes diplomacy is the better part of valor."
Chapter 4: A Day in Tempest
Morning in Tempest dawned bright and clear, the floating city of Avalon Evernight catching the sun's first rays and casting prismatic reflections across the federation. Citizens had begun to adjust to the extraordinary sight above them, many now incorporating it into their morning routines—merchants set up viewing spots that offered the best angles, children played games inspired by the celestial visitors, and artists sketched the impossible architecture.
In the central market district, an unusual group attracted even more attention than the city above. Ramiris, Supreme Monarch of Avalon Evernight, strolled casually through the stalls, accompanied by Tiamat, Arcueid, and Queen Gilgamesh. Despite attempts to blend in, their presence created an immediate sensation—partly due to their overwhelming auras, partly due to Ramiris's inability to go anywhere without commanding attention.
"The craftsmanship is quite charming," observed Ramiris, examining a goblin-made lantern with genuine interest. "There's something refreshingly direct about mortal creations—no unnecessary conceptual complexity, just elegant functionality."
The goblin merchant—initially frozen in awe—practically glowed at the praise. "Th-thank you, great lord! Would you honor me by accepting it as a gift?"
"How kind," Ramiris smiled, causing the goblin to blush deeply. "But commerce is part of cultural exchange, is it not?" He produced a small golden coin unlike any currency in the world and placed it in the merchant's hand. "For your excellent work."
As they moved on, the goblin stared at the coin in wonder—it seemed to contain an actual miniature galaxy swirling within its surface.
"You're going to disrupt their economy if you keep handing out interdimensional artifacts as pocket change," murmured Queen Gilgamesh, though her tone held more amusement than criticism.
"One small galaxy per vendor seems reasonable," Ramiris replied with a wink. "Besides, they'll make far more displaying that coin to curious customers than they would from selling their entire inventory."
Arcueid bounced excitedly from stall to stall, her enthusiasm drawing smiles even from initially wary vendors. "My Ramiris! Look at these adorable monster-shaped snacks! They've made edible versions of themselves!"
"Cultural self-referentialism through cuisine," Ramiris noted approvingly. "Quite sophisticated for such a young society."
Tiamat observed the interactions with maternal satisfaction, occasionally offering gentle corrections when Arcueid's enthusiasm threatened to overwhelm a vendor. "Perhaps a bit less exuberance, dear one," she suggested after the True Ancestor had accidentally caused a display of pottery to wobble precariously.
"Sorry, Mother of Creation," Arcueid replied, making a visible effort to contain her excitement. "It's just so colorful and alive here! Not at all like the stuffy diplomatic missions we usually undertake."
Their procession continued through the market, drawing increased attention as word spread of the visitors' presence. Children particularly seemed drawn to them, their natural curiosity overcoming fear of the overwhelming auras.
A small orcish girl, barely waist-high to an adult, broke away from her mother and approached Ramiris directly, staring up at him with unabashed wonder.
"Are you really a king?" she asked bluntly, in the way only children can manage.
Rather than taking offense, Ramiris crouched down to eye level with the child, his golden eyes twinkling with amusement. "Indeed I am, little one. Though 'king' is merely the closest translation your language offers for what I am."
The girl considered this seriously. "My grandpa says kings have crowns. Where's yours?"
Queen Gilgamesh made a strangled sound that might have been suppressed laughter, quickly disguised as a cough.
Ramiris smiled warmly. "A fair question. You see, when you're as obviously kingly as I am," he gestured to his flowing white hair and general aura of magnificence, "a crown becomes redundant. Rather like putting a sign on a waterfall saying 'water here.'"
The child giggled, then pointed to the maids. "Are they princesses?"
"Better than princesses," Ramiris replied conspiratorially. "They're the mightiest beings in existence who chose to serve in my court. Far more interesting than mere royalty by birth, don't you think?"
The girl's mother finally caught up, looking mortified. "I am so sorry for my daughter's intrusion, great lord! Please forgive her impertinence!"
"Nonsense," Ramiris waved dismissively. "Honest curiosity should always be encouraged. Your daughter shows promising intelligence."
As the beaming mother led her child away, Tiamat regarded Ramiris with fond approval. "You've always had a way with children, Beloved King."
"Children and cats," added Queen Gilgamesh with a smirk. "The two kinds of beings immune to intimidation by cosmic power."
"Which is precisely why I enjoy them," Ramiris replied, standing gracefully. "Honest reactions are refreshing when one typically inspires either terror or sycophancy."
Their path soon brought them to Tempest's renowned central restaurant district, where delicious aromas filled the air. Rimuru had arranged for the visitors to experience the federation's culinary achievements, and a table awaited them at the most popular establishment.
As they were seated, Ramiris noticed the nervous energy of the staff—clearly honored yet terrified by their divine patrons. With a subtle gesture, he reduced the intensity of his aura, allowing the servers to approach without trembling.
"Your consideration for mortals remains charming," observed Queen Gilgamesh, who had made no such adjustment to her overwhelming presence.
"Intimidated service leads to spilled drinks," Ramiris replied pragmatically. "And I'm particularly looking forward to trying this 'special honey wine' I've heard so much about."
The owner of the establishment personally brought their first course, presenting each dish with trembling pride. "Our humble offerings, great lords. Tempest's finest seasonal specialties."
The spread was impressive—dishes that showcased both traditional monster cuisine and innovations developed under Rimuru's influence. Arcueid immediately began sampling everything with enthusiasm, while Queen Gilgamesh examined each offering with critical appreciation before taking delicate bites.
"Remarkable," declared Tiamat after tasting a particularly complex stew. "The integration of disparate culinary traditions mirrors the social integration Tempest has achieved. Food as cultural metaphor."
"And quite delicious metaphor at that," agreed Ramiris, savoring a bite of black pepper beef bowl. "I begin to understand why Rimuru speaks of this dish with such nostalgia. It carries echoes of his human memories."
As they dined, citizens gathered outside, hoping to catch glimpses of the illustrious visitors. Ramiris, noticing this, occasionally turned to wave or offer a friendly nod, causing excited murmurs among the onlookers.
"You're encouraging them," noted Queen Gilgamesh, though without real disapproval.
"Of course," Ramiris replied cheerfully. "Cultural exchange works best with enthusiastic participants." He raised his glass in a toast to the watching crowd, causing several to faint from excitement.
Their meal was interrupted by the arrival of Shion, who approached their table with a formal bow that contrasted with her usual demeanor.
"Lord Ramiris," she addressed him with careful respect, "Master Rimuru requests the honor of your presence this afternoon. The diplomatic delegation from Falmuth has expressed interest in meeting you formally."
"How convenient," Ramiris replied with a knowing smile. "Morgan's invitation was persuasive, I take it?"
"They arrived rather... hastily," Shion confirmed. "King Edmaris seemed particularly eager for formal introductions."
"Wonderful!" Ramiris clapped his hands together. "Regional politics are always so entertaining. Please inform Rimuru we shall attend following our cultural exploration."
After Shion departed, Ramiris turned back to his companions. "It seems our afternoon entertainment has arranged itself. Diplomatic posturing with nervous royalty—always amusing."
"Shall I prepare the formal introductions, my Glorious Ramiris?" asked Queen Gilgamesh, who excelled at intimidating lesser royalty with elaborate court protocols.
"Let's keep it relatively simple," Ramiris decided. "No need for the full seventeen-tier presentation or prostration requirements. We wouldn't want to traumatize them completely on first meeting."
"You take all my fun," Queen Gilgamesh pouted, though her eyes sparkled with amusement.
After finishing their meal (and leaving the astonished owner with payment in the form of a crystallized droplet of primordial creation essence, courtesy of Tiamat), the group continued their tour of Tempest. Their next destination was the city's renowned crafting district, where dwarven smiths and elven artisans created works that had begun attracting attention from across the continent.
As they approached, they noticed a small crowd gathered around one particular workshop, where Kali—who had set out on her own exploration earlier—was engaged in an animated discussion with a dwarven master smith.
"Absolutely not!" the dwarf was saying, his beard quivering with indignation. "The alloy cannot possibly retain stability under those conditions!"
"Your understanding is limited by conventional physics," Kali replied, her bloodthirsty aura temporarily replaced by scholarly intensity. "If you align the material's spiritual resonance with its elemental foundation, the seemingly contradictory properties harmonize rather than conflict."
"That's..." the dwarf paused, stroking his beard in thought, "that's completely counter to established metallurgic principles."
"Exactly!" Kali grinned fiercely. "Progress requires challenging established principles!"
Ramiris approached with an indulgent smile. "Making friends, Commander of Combat?"
Kali turned, her face lighting up at the sight of her master. "Supreme Monarch! I've discovered these dwarven smiths have developed several innovative techniques despite their limited understanding of conceptual metallurgy. With just a few adjustments, they could create weapons of truly impressive potency."
"Just what Tempest needs," muttered Queen Gilgamesh. "Conceptually enhanced weaponry."
"Knowledge exchange flows both ways," Ramiris reminded her. "Besides, I doubt they could replicate the more... reality-altering aspects without proper training."
The dwarven smith bowed deeply to Ramiris. "Great lord, your servant's insights are revolutionary. Our guild would be honored to learn more of these techniques."
"Perhaps a workshop could be arranged," suggested Ramiris. "Kali rarely has opportunity to share her expertise in weapon crafting with appreciative audiences."
Kali beamed at him with adoring gratitude. "You always understand exactly what would please me, Dancing King! A teaching opportunity would be most satisfying!"
"Then it shall be arranged," Ramiris declared, causing the gathered artisans to murmur excitedly. "Though perhaps with some practical limitations on what is shared," he added in a quieter aside to Kali. "Level three metaphysical forging only—nothing that could accidentally collapse their reality."
"As you command," she agreed readily, clearly delighted at the prospect regardless of limitations.
Their cultural exploration continued throughout the afternoon, with each district of Tempest offering new discoveries. Arcueid found particular joy in the beast-person quarter, where her natural affinity for creatures of all types made her an instant favorite. Tiamat spent an enlightening hour with the druids in the agricultural sector, offering subtle suggestions that would improve crop yields without disrupting the natural balance.
Meanwhile, Queen Gilgamesh discovered Tempest's modest treasury and promptly engaged the goblin financial ministers in a comprehensive critique of their cataloging system, simultaneously terrifying and enlightening them with her expertise in treasure management.
Through it all, Ramiris moved with casual grace, his charisma drawing people to him despite their initial awe. Citizens who began conversations trembling with nerves often ended them laughing at his surprisingly accessible humor or touched by his genuine interest in their lives and work.
"You truly enjoy this, don't you?" observed Tiamat during a quiet moment as they walked between districts.
"Immensely," Ramiris admitted, watching a group of children playing a game that seemed to involve pretending to be maids serving an imaginary king. "These brief connections with mortal existence—they remind me of what authority is ultimately for."
"Which is?" prompted Queen Gilgamesh, who had rejoined them after thoroughly reorganizing Tempest's treasury classification system.
"The flourishing of those within its care," Ramiris replied simply. "Power without purpose becomes mere tyranny. These people—monsters becoming something more through cooperation and purpose—they're building something genuine here."
"Under Rimuru's authority," noted Tiamat thoughtfully. "A leader who, like you, came to his position through circumstance rather than ambition."
"Precisely why this federation fascinated me," Ramiris nodded. "Leadership thrust upon the reluctant often yields the most interesting results."
Their philosophical discussion was interrupted by BB, who materialized beside them with her typical energetic entrance.
"Darling Sovereign!" she exclaimed. "You absolutely must come to the magical research district! They've developed the most fascinating integration of spiritual, demonic, and human magical traditions! It's delightfully chaotic yet somehow functional!"
"Is that so?" Ramiris replied, amused by her enthusiasm. "Lead on, then. Far be it from me to miss delightful chaos."
As they followed the bouncing Moon Cancer through Tempest's streets, citizens bowed or waved, their initial terror now tempered with growing familiarity. The floating city above might remain an awesome sight, but its inhabitants had begun to seem less alien and more... approachable.
"You're winning them over," observed Queen Gilgamesh quietly. "As you always do."
"We all are," Ramiris corrected. "Your treasury reorganization has already spread through the merchant quarter as news of unprecedented efficiency."
The queen preened slightly at this recognition. "Their system was an abomination. Categorizing treasures by acquisition date rather than conceptual significance? Barbaric."
"And yet you corrected it with surprising gentleness," Ramiris noted with a knowing smile. "Not a single goblin accountant reduced to tears—a new record for you, I believe."
"I can be diplomatic when the situation warrants," she sniffed, though a pleased smile tugged at her lips. "Besides, they were admirably quick students."
Their banter continued as they made their way toward the magical district, where BB promised demonstrations of Tempest's unique magical innovations. Throughout the federation, word of the visitors' approachability spread, gradually transforming anxiety into excitement about hosting such distinguished guests.
Above it all, Avalon Evernight hovered like a benevolent celestial neighbor, occasionally releasing harmless showers of golden light that children delightedly called "star rain" and rushed to catch in their hands.
Chapter 5: Diplomatic Maneuvers
The diplomatic reception hall in Tempest's government building had been transformed for the evening's formal meeting. Elaborate decorations combined Tempest's monster-kingdom aesthetic with touches inspired by Avalon Evernight—crystalline flowers that emitted soft light, tapestries depicting scenes from both realms, and a subtle magical ambiance that made the air itself feel charged with significance.
Rimuru, dressed in his finest ceremonial attire, awaited the arrival of both his otherworldly guests and the Falmuth delegation with barely concealed nervous energy.
"Everything is prepared according to the highest diplomatic standards," assured Shuna, who had overseen the arrangements personally. "Though I admit, coordinating protocol for beings from beyond reality presented unique challenges."
"You've done admirably," Rimuru replied gratefully. "Let's just hope King Edmaris can maintain his composure when faced with our visitors in their full formal glory."
As if summoned by his words, the doors opened to admit the Falmuth delegation. King Edmaris entered first, wearing his most impressive royal regalia, followed by five senior advisors similarly adorned with symbols of office. Though they maintained dignified expressions, the tension in their postures was evident.
"Welcome to Tempest," Rimuru greeted them formally. "We appreciate your prompt response to our invitation."
King Edmaris offered a measured bow. "Demon Lord Rimuru. Your... invitation was most persuasive." His eyes darted upward, as if he could see through the ceiling to the floating city above. "I understand congratulations are in order for establishing relations with such... distinguished visitors."
Before Rimuru could respond, the atmosphere in the hall shifted perceptibly. The air seemed to pause, reality holding its breath, as the opposite doors swung open of their own accord.
Ramiris entered first, and those who had seen him in his casual exploration of Tempest might hardly recognize him now. Gone was the relaxed demeanor and approachable charm. In their place stood the true Supreme Monarch of Avalon Evernight in full sovereign aspect.
His battle uniform had been replaced by formal regalia that seemed woven from pure authority—midnight blue fabric that contained actual constellations, moving slightly as he walked. His half-cape had transformed into a full mantle of pure white that seemed to exist partially beyond conventional reality, edges shifting in and out of perception. His golden eyes blazed with internal light, and an aura of absolute command radiated from him in palpable waves.
Behind him processed his maids, transformed from their earlier approachability into the true Thrones of Loyalty. Each wore formal court attire that enhanced rather than disguised their divine nature—Tiamat's gown rippled with primordial creation energy, Queen Gilgamesh's armor gleamed with the light of treasures beyond mortal understanding, and Void Shiki moved as a perfect emptiness given elegant form.
King Edmaris and his advisors involuntarily took a step back, their diplomatic composure cracking at the overwhelming presence now filling the hall.
Ramiris stopped at precisely the correct diplomatic distance and inclined his head fractionally toward Rimuru—a gesture between equals that was not lost on the watching Falmuth delegation.
"Demon Lord Rimuru," he intoned, his voice carrying the weight of cosmic authority without raising its volume. "We thank you for arranging this gathering."
"The honor is ours, Supreme Monarch Ramiris," Rimuru replied, grateful for Shuna's intensive coaching on formal address. "May I present King Edmaris of Falmuth and his delegation."
All eyes turned to the Falmuth king, who visibly steeled himself before stepping forward. To his credit, he managed a proper royal bow despite the overwhelming aura bearing down upon him.
"Supreme Monarch," he addressed Ramiris, his voice only slightly unsteady. "Falmuth is... honored by your attention."
"King Edmaris," acknowledged Ramiris, his expression regal yet inscrutable. "Your prompt response to our invitation speaks well of your diplomatic instincts."
Something in his tone—a subtle emphasis on 'invitation'—caused the king to pale slightly, clearly remembering Morgan's effortless neutralization of his guards.
"One tries to recognize significant opportunities," Edmaris replied carefully.
"Indeed," Ramiris agreed, his smile suddenly warming a few degrees. "And recognizing the difference between threat and opportunity is the mark of a wise ruler."
With that subtle shift in demeanor, the atmosphere in the hall lightened perceptibly. Ramiris gestured to his maids, who arranged themselves in a less formal configuration.
"Now that proper introductions have been observed," he continued in a more conversational tone, "perhaps we might dispense with excessive formality. After all, cultural exchange benefits from comfort."
Relief washed visibly over the Falmuth delegation as the overwhelming pressure of divine presence dialed back to merely impressive levels.
Rimuru, recognizing his cue, gestured toward the banquet tables that had been prepared along one side of the hall. "Please, enjoy Tempest's hospitality. We've arranged a selection of refreshments to accompany our discussions."
As the gathering segmented into smaller conversational groups, Ramiris approached Rimuru with a subtle wink. "Very nicely handled. The formal entrance is always so tedious, but so necessary for establishing proper understanding."
"You mean intimidating them just enough to ensure cooperation but not enough to cause panic?" Rimuru translated dryly.
Ramiris laughed, the sound returning to its more natural melodious quality rather than the cosmic resonance of his formal voice. "Precisely! Diplomatic relations with lesser kingdoms always requires that delicate balance."
"Lesser kingdoms?" repeated Rimuru with raised eyebrows.
"From my perspective, dear Demon Lord, all kingdoms are lesser," Ramiris clarified with a casual shrug. "Though yours shows more promise than most." He nodded toward King Edmaris, who was now engaged in cautious conversation with Tiamat. "Your neighbor, however, requires more... traditional handling."
Across the hall, Tiamat had somehow transformed from the awe-inspiring Mother of Creation into an approachable maternal figure, putting the Falmuth king at ease with gentle questions about his kingdom's agricultural practices.
"Your climate presents interesting challenges," she was saying. "Perhaps exchanges with Tempest regarding magical crop enhancement could benefit both nations?"
Meanwhile, Queen Gilgamesh had cornered Falmuth's treasury minister and was subjecting him to a penetrating interrogation regarding their financial systems.
"Fixed exchange rates across multiple domestic regions? How delightfully primitive," she observed, causing the minister to flush with indignation before she added, "Yet effective for your current development stage. A pragmatic approach has its merits."
The minister's expression shifted from offense to cautious pride at what he chose to interpret as a compliment.
Rimuru observed these interactions with growing appreciation for the subtle diplomacy at work. Despite their overwhelming power, Ramiris's maids were expertly managing the human delegates—intimidating them just enough to ensure respect while gradually building rapport on topics of mutual interest.
"Your court has considerable diplomatic skill," he commented to Ramiris. "I had expected more..."
"Cosmic arrogance? Reality-shattering displays of power? Demands for worship?" Ramiris suggested with amusement.
"Something like that," Rimuru admitted.
"Such approaches are tediously inefficient," Ramiris waved dismissively. "True power needs no constant demonstration. Besides," he added with a conspiratorial smile, "diplomatic successes provide much more satisfying long-term entertainment than simple dominance."
Before Rimuru could respond, they were interrupted by the arrival of King Edmaris, who approached with newly bolstered confidence after his conversation with Tiamat.
"Supreme Monarch," the king addressed Ramiris with careful respect. "Your presence in our region presents many... questions for neighboring kingdoms."
"I imagine it does," Ramiris agreed pleasantly. "Floating celestial cities tend to disrupt geopolitical assumptions."
"Indeed," Edmaris continued, choosing his words with obvious care. "Naturally, Falmuth is concerned about the balance of power, given your evident... alliance with Tempest."
"Alliance? How formal that sounds," Ramiris replied lightly. "We're merely visitors enjoying Tempest's hospitality during our cultural tour. Though," he added with calculated casual