Diablo's Revelation...
The sky over Tempest was painted in soft oranges and purples as the sun began to dip beyond the horizon, casting long shadows over the flourishing city. The gentle buzz of life echoed from the market, the clang of smiths from workshops, and laughter from children chasing each other through the streets. The scent of fresh bread and roasted meats filled the air. Tempest was alive—thriving.
On the palace balcony, Rimuru stood next to Yujiro, who leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, eyes calm but sharp, watching the cityscape with a calculating gaze. Behind them, Diablo stood like a statue, his demonic presence masked under a veil of unwavering loyalty.
The conversation had started lighthearted. Rimuru explaining his future plans—the festival, the tournament, the Labyrinth opening to the world.
"Veldora's on the 100th floor," Rimuru explained with a small grin. "He loves playing the final boss role. Poses, speeches, even entrance music."
Yujiro raised an eyebrow, amused. "That dragon really likes attention, huh."
"He is a bit of a drama king," Rimuru chuckled.
But then, as Rimuru continued to describe the city's vision—of a land where monsters and humans could live as equals—Yujiro's tone shifted. His gaze sharpened, voice lowering.
"So… you're building a city where humans and monsters live side by side."
Rimuru nodded. "That's the plan. I want a world where races don't matter—only kindness, cooperation, strength, and purpose."
Yujiro looked out again, the wind rustling his black kimono.
"You'll have enemies."
Rimuru frowned. "I know."
"Not just monsters or demon lords. Humans. Powerful ones. Merchants. Nobles. Politicians. The kind that rule from behind curtains and wear masks of kindness. The moment your dream threatens their control... they'll try to break it."
There was a pause. Yujiro's voice grew heavier.
"Humans fear what they don't understand. And the powerful? They fear what they can't control."
The words settled like weight on the balcony. Rimuru looked down, his expression serious.
"I expected that," he replied quietly. "But even if the world turns on me… I won't stop. That's the path I chose."
Then… a voice spoke—clear, smooth, but laced with weight.
"Yujiro-sama… if I may."
Everyone turned. Diablo stepped forward, his posture respectful but filled with energy. The fading sun hit his face just right—his eyes glowed like polished amber, sharp and intense.
Yujiro looked at him, saying nothing. A small nod gave permission.
Diablo inhaled slowly.
"I… have something to say. Something I've been thinking about since the war. Since Atraval."
The name alone sent a slight chill in the air. The monster that had erased their powers, shattered their pride, and nearly crushed their hope.
"Before that battle… I thought I was strong. We all did. We had titles. Magic. Skills. We had the power to level mountains and summon storms."
His voice didn't rise—but the emotion behind it grew.
"But the moment Atraval arrived… everything disappeared. My magic. My skills. Me. I was… nothing."
Everyone was silent.
Benimaru, Shion, Souei, and the other ogres who'd gathered nearby listened quietly. Even Goramu, leaning on a wooden post, straightened up.
"And then I realized something. We… rely too much on things we don't understand."
He turned toward Rimuru for a second, then back to Yujiro.
"Magic. Skills. These things—we wield them like weapons, but we've never asked where they come from. Who created them? Who decides how they work? Is it nature? A higher force? Is there a will behind it all?"
He clenched a fist, not out of rage—but a yearning to understand.
"We call ourselves demons, superior beings of magic. But what are we… without it?"
He stepped forward, standing closer to Yujiro now.
"That day, I understood… we've been living in a cage. A beautiful, convenient cage made of magic and power. But the moment the bars vanished, we were lost."
The words hit everyone like a weight. Even Shion, usually cheerful and impulsive, looked stunned.
Diablo's tone deepened.
"I no longer want to be strong just because of what's given to me. I want to be strong because of what's within me."
He looked Yujiro dead in the eye.
"I want to be able to survive in a world where there's nothing. No skills. No magic. No divine favors. Just my fists… my instincts… and my will."
"Will you teach me that strength?"
Silence.
The wind blew softly.
Yujiro stared at him for a long time. The air felt heavier.
Finally, he smirked.
"Not bad… demon."
Yujiro turned away from him and back to the city.
"You finally get it."
He didn't shout. He didn't raise his voice. But the weight in his tone… it crushed the silence.
"True power isn't magic. It isn't titles. It isn't glory. It's survival. It's pain. It's bleeding and breaking and still standing. That's what most of you forgot."
He looked at Rimuru and the ogres.
"You all got comfortable."
Goramu crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. "He's right."
Yujiro looked back at Diablo.
"You want to learn? Fine. But this isn't training. This is rebirth. I'll tear away everything you thought made you strong—until only truth remains, the training i gave you before Atraval arrival is nothing."
Diablo's eyes sharpened.
"That's all I ask."
Milim, who'd been unusually quiet, suddenly jumped up. "I'm in too! Let's do it!"
Benimaru hesitated. "I mean… it does sound intense."
Shion cracked her knuckles. "I've always wanted to train under Yujiro-sama again…"
Souei just gave a quiet nod, already accepting.
Rimuru sighed with a little smile. "Guess we're starting a whole new kind of training camp…"
Yujiro smirked.
"You built a city where monsters and humans live together, slime. Now… let's make sure they know how to survive without the crutches."
After Yujiro Hanma nodded and gave his approval to stay in Tempest and train its strongest warriors, something shifted in the air. The mood. The presence. The sheer weight of what was about to happen seemed to settle over everyone like an invisible pressure.
Rimuru, despite being one of the most powerful beings in the world, couldn't help but feel a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his face. Yujiro staying in Tempest? That alone was enough to make any leader nervous. But Rimuru knew… there was no saying no to him. You didn't negotiate with Yujiro Hanma. You adapted.
"I guess… we're honored to have you," Rimuru said, forcing a smile.
Yujiro simply cracked his neck and gave a short grunt.
"You should be."
Off to the side, the ogres—Benimaru, Shion, Hakuro, and the others—whispered among themselves with bright eyes.
"He's really gonna stay?"
"We're training under Yujiro Hanma again?"
"This is gonna be brutal… but I can't wait."
There was an odd mixture of fear and excitement in their eyes. They remembered what it was like last time—how he pushed them beyond their limits, shattered their pride, and then rebuilt them with discipline born of hellfire.
Later that afternoon, as the sun began dipping low, bathing Tempest in gold, Yujiro turned to Rimuru.
"Take me to the Labyrinth," he said flatly.
Rimuru blinked. "Oh? Curious about it?"
"I want to see what you've built… and what I can break."
Moments later, a party of five made their way toward the Labyrinth's massive entrance at the heart of Tempest. Rimuru led the way, with Yujiro walking behind him, arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face. Diablo, Benimaru, and Goramu followed close behind.
Guards and adventurers near the entrance whispered as they saw the group approach.
"Is that… him?"
"The guy who fought Atraval without magic?"
"He's a monster in human skin…"
Inside the Labyrinth, the group moved effortlessly through the maze—thanks to Rimuru's authority—until they stood before the sealed transport gate that led straight to the 100th floor.
"We're skipping everything?" Diablo asked.
"No need to waste time," Yujiro replied. "I'll see the rest of it later. For now… take me to where Veldora is."
Rimuru activated the gate.
The gate opened into a grand, cathedral-like chamber carved from obsidian and glowing crystal. On a floating slab of enchanted stone reclined Veldora Tempest, lazily sprawled across cushions, a thick book covering his face titled "The Art of Tactical Romanticism – Volume 27".
Several books floated around him, glowing with runes. A cup of tea steamed beside him, occasionally refilling itself with magic.
"Mmmm… fascinating," Veldora muttered, eyes unseen. "This author clearly understands the delicate balance of comedy and tension…"
Spinning in lazy circles above was Ramiris, giggling and humming to herself, drawing sparkles in the air with a stick of glowing chalk. She looked like she didn't have a care in the world—until her eyes fell on a silhouette stepping out of the portal.
Yujiro Hanma.
"EEEEEEEK!" she shrieked, wings flapping wildly. She zipped behind Veldora's massive head, hiding like a terrified bug.
Veldora didn't even flinch. "Ramiris, calm down. You're always overreacting…"
"VELDORA!!! HE'S HERE! H-HIM! YUJIRO!!"
Veldora sighed and lowered the book slightly.
"Huh? Rimuru? Oh, you came to see how the great Veldora is channeling the sacred wisdom of literary arts into—"
Rimuru cleared his throat, cutting him off.
"Actually… someone wanted to see you."
Veldora did his usual three-stage laugh, chuckling with pride.
"Mwahaha… Mwahahaha! MWAHAHA—so you've brought a fan! Excellent!"
He pulled the book fully away from his face.
And froze.
Yujiro was standing there. Arms crossed. Unsmiling. Silent.
Veldora's grin evaporated.
"Yu-Yujiro…! Ahahaha… my good friend… what a surprise!"
Yujiro said nothing. He stepped forward. One step. Then another. The room seemed to get heavier with each movement.
Then, with terrifying calm, Yujiro placed a single hand on Veldora's shoulder.
CRACK.
The air pressure dropped. The ground beneath Veldora's feet began to split and fracture as if the entire world was rejecting the presence of such force in one hand.
Veldora stiffened.
"W-Wait a minute—Yujiro! Let's not—"
Yujiro's hand pressed down.
Veldora's knees buckled.
"So this is what you've been doing instead of training?" Yujiro asked coldly.
Veldora groaned.
"I-I was… reading sacred texts… valuable… ugh… information…"
Yujiro kept his hand there another moment, then finally let go.
Veldora fell to one knee, panting. The entire room had gone silent.
Even Diablo looked stunned.
Benimaru whispered to Goramu,
"He made a true dragon kneel… again…"
Rimuru looked away, shaking his head.
"Every time I see it… I still can't believe it."
Ramiris was hiding behind a pillar, shaking.
"This… this is why I can't sleep when he's around…"
Then Yujiro turned.
Slowly.
To her.
"You. Pixie."
Ramiris squeaked. "M-ME?!"
"I heard you're the one who built this Labyrinth."
Ramiris floated forward reluctantly, knees shaking in midair.
"I-I mean… yes. Technically. I-I designed every floor! I did all the planning, the traps, the magicule flow—"
Yujiro cut her off.
"Good. Starting tomorrow… this will be our training ground."
Ramiris blinked.
"Like… a training dungeon? W-We already have floors with golems, poison rooms, puzzle locks—"
"No," Yujiro said. "What you have is a theme park. I want a battlefield. Something that tears flesh, tests will, and breaks the body until only strength remains."
Ramiris gulped.
"C-Can… can you be more specific?"
Yujiro stepped forward. The air grew still.
"Design a place where you're punished for breathing. Floors with reversed gravity, time-warping halls, monsters that feed on fear, zones where magic dies and only pain lives."
Ramiris's face turned pale. "S-Sure… I can… maybe… I just need to adjust the core—"
"Good."
Yujiro looked to Rimuru.
"Leave us. I'll talk with the pixie alone."
Veldora scrambled to his feet.
"YES! Let's go! I have somewhere to be!" he lied.
Diablo bowed.
"As you wish, Yujiro-sama."
Benimaru and Goramu silently followed, stealing one last glance at Ramiris, who looked like a fairy being drafted into a war she never signed up for.
Once they were gone, Yujiro cracked his knuckles.
"Now. Show me the control room. We're going to make Hell feel like a vacation."
Ramiris squeaked.
"Y-Yessir…"