The peace of the Tempest Federation was a deception. It was a beautiful, shimmering mirage laid over a foundation of absolute, hair-trigger violence. To the casual observer, the city was a utopia of cooperation: goblins laying cobblestones with practiced efficiency, dwarves instructing high orcs in the art of metallurgy, and wolves patrolling the perimeter with disciplined vigilance. But for those with the eyes to see—such as the silver-haired entity currently lounging on the roof of the town hall—the air was vibrating with the tension of a plucked violin string waiting to spark a fire.
And the spark was currently demanding breakfast.
"Nova! Nova! Look!"
Milim Nava, the Destroyer, the oldest of the Demon Lords, catastrophe given petite, pigtail-wearing form, hung upside down from the eaves, her face inches from his. Gravity, like most laws of physics, seemed to have given up on trying to apply to her.
Nova did not look up from the book he wasn't reading. "You are blood rushing to your head, Milim. It is inefficient."
"I found a bug!" she announced, dropping a massive, wriggling beetle onto his knee. "It's strong! It fought a spider! Can I keep it? Can I name it?"
Nova flicked the beetle into the stratosphere with a motion of his finger too fast for mortal eyes to track. "No. Naming creatures creates spiritual tethers. You accidentally evolving a beetle into an Insect Kaiser would disrupt the local ecosystem."
Milim pouted, flipping herself upright and landing on the tiles without a sound. "You're no fun. Rimuru is busy with boring paper stuff. Shion is trying to cook again—which is scary, by the way—and Benimaru is hiding from Shion. I have nothing to do!"
"Boredom," Nova said, finally closing the book, "is the price of omnipotence. Get used to it."
He stood, his black coat absorbing the morning light rather than reflecting it. *Ciel. Status report.*
<
*And the external variable?*
<
Nova sighed. The script was relentless.
"Come," he said to Milim. "We have guests. And knowing the nature of 'guests' in this world, they will likely require a beatdown."
Milim's eyes lit up with a nuclear brilliance. "A fight?!"
"A diplomatic incident," Nova corrected. "But with you involved, the distinction is academic."
***
**The Arrival of the Beast**
The central plaza was bustling, but the atmosphere curdled as the newcomers marched in. They were beastmen—proud, strong, and radiating the kind of unearned arrogance that usually preceded a humiliating defeat. Leading them was a man with the features of a black panther, his stride radiating a swagger that screamed 'mid-boss energy.'
Phobio. One of the Three Beastketeers.
He looked at the monsters of Tempest—the hobgoblins, the dragonewts—with a sneer that curled his lip like a dying leaf. "So," he scoffed, his voice carrying across the square. "This is the town of the slime? A collection of evolved runts playing at civilization."
Rigurd, the Goblin King, stepped forward, his massive frame trembling not with fear, but with the restraint of a diplomat. "We welcome you, travelers. But we ask that you show respect in our home."
Phobio laughed. It was a grating, ugly sound. "Respect? For goblins? Don't make me laugh. I am here for the Majin who defeated the Orc Lord. Bring him out, so I can see if he's worth kneeling to Lord Karion."
On the balcony overlooking the plaza, Rimuru groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Why? Why is it always the arrogant ones? Can't we ever get a nice, polite emissary who brings fruit baskets?"
"Narrative conflict requires antagonism," Nova said from the shadows behind him, his voice dry. "And arrogance is the most efficient fuel for a downfall."
Beside Nova, Milim was vibrating. "He's rude. He's super rude. Can I punch him? Just a little? A love tap?"
Nova looked down at the panther-man, dissecting his soul with a glance. *Phobio. Prideful. Insecure. Desperate for validation. An easy puppet for the clowns.*
"Wait," Nova commanded softly. "Let him dig the hole deeper."
Below, the situation escalated. Phobio, sensing no immediate threat from the polite Rigurd, decided to assert dominance. He lashed out, a backhanded strike meant to send the Goblin King flying.
*Crack.*
But Rigurd didn't fly. He staggered, yes, but he held his ground, his muscles locking rigid. "I said," Rigurd growled, his voice dropping into a register that reminded everyone he was a monster named by Rimuru Tempest, "show respect."
Phobio's eyes widened. "You filth—!"
"Hey!"
The voice was high, childish, and cut through the tension like a razor blade through silk. Milim hopped off the balcony, landing between Rigurd and Phobio with a lightness that belied the impact crater she was suppressing.
"You're making a lot of noise," Milim said, crossing her arms. She looked like a lost child who had wandered into a war zone. "It's ruining my snack time."
Phobio blinked, then sneered. "A brat? Get out of the way, little girl, before I—"
Nova, watching from above, closed his eyes. *And… there it is.*
"Ciel," he murmured. "Play the sound effect."
<
Phobio moved to shove Milim.
It happened in a single frame of animation.
Milim's fist moved. It wasn't a punch; it was a casual dismissal of his existence. It connected with Phobio's face.
The Beastketeer didn't just fly back. He was erased from his current coordinates and rewritten into a trajectory that sent him skipping across the cobbles like a flat stone on a lake. He smashed through a stone bench, a decorative fountain, and finally embedded himself in the wall of the outer storehouse, upside down.
Silence descended on the plaza. Absolute, terrified silence.
Milim blew on her knuckles. "Weak."
The remaining beastmen froze, staring at the small, pink-haired girl who had just swatted their commander like a fly. Fear, primal and overwhelming, rooted them to the spot.
But then, a shadow fell over them.
Nova didn't jump down. He simply stepped off the balcony and walked on the air, descending as if an invisible staircase lay beneath his boots. His nine tails remained hidden, but his aura leaked out—a cold, suffocating pressure that tasted of the void between stars.
He landed beside Milim, dusting off an invisible speck of dirt from his coat.
"You held back," Nova noted.
"Of course!" Milim beamed. "Rimuru said no killing in town. I was very reduced! That was like… 0.01%!"
Nova turned his mismatched eyes—crimson and teal—toward Phobio's subordinates. They flinched as if struck.
"Collect your garbage," Nova said, his voice quiet but echoing in their skulls. "And leave."
One of the beastmen, shaking violently, managed to speak. "W-who… what are you people?"
Nova tilted his head. "We are the reason you should update your threat assessment protocols."
They scrambled. It was a pathetic sight, dragging their unconscious, twitching leader out of the debris and fleeing toward the gates as if hell itself was snapping at their heels.
Rimuru sighed, finally jumping down to join them. "Well, there go diplomatic relations with the Beast Kingdom Yurazania."
"Nonsense," Nova said calmly. "We just established a very firm boundary. Karion will respect strength. Weakness would have invited invasion."
"You always spin it like that," Rimuru grumbled.
"Because I am right."
Milim tugged on Nova's sleeve. "Did you see? Did you see? I didn't kill him! I'm getting good at this 'mercy' thing!"
Nova patted her head once, stiffly. "Adequate work. Now, go eat your honey before you vibrate through the floor."
Milim cheered and zoomed off.
Nova watched her go, his expression darkening instantly.
*Ciel. Tracking on Phobio.*
<
Nova turned his gaze toward the distant forest, eyes narrowing.
"The clowns are on stage," he whispered. "Time for the circus to burn."
***
**Scene: The Whisper of Madness**
Deep in the forest, far from the prying eyes of the city, Phobio raged. He punched trees, shattering timber, screaming his frustration at the sky. He had been humiliated. Beaten by a child. Dismissed by a shadow.
And then, the laughter came.
"Kee hee hee! Oh, how sad! How tragic!"
"A powerful warrior, brought so low! It breaks the heart, doesn't it, Tear?"
Two figures emerged from the gloom. Clowns. Masks painted in frozen grins. Footman and Tear.
"Who are you?!" Phobio snarled.
"Friends! Allies!" Footman bowed, his rotund body moving with unsettling grace. "We saw what happened. That little girl… she is a Demon Lord, you know? Milim Nava. No shame in losing to her."
"A… Demon Lord?" Phobio paled.
"But!" Tear chimed in, floating in the air. "You can't go back like this, can you? Lord Karion will be so disappointed. Unless… unless you had the power to beat a Demon Lord."
Phobio's eyes narrowed. "Power?"
"Oh yes," Footman whispered, leaning close. "A weapon. Ancient. Sealed nearby. The Sky Eater. Charybdis."
From miles away, atop the highest spire of Tempest, Nova watched through the eyes of the wind spirits. He heard every word.
*Ciel. Should I intervene?*
<
*And a bored Milim is more dangerous than a flying shark.*
Nova watched as Phobio took the bait. The fool. He didn't see the strings. He didn't see that he was just a battery for a weapon Clayman wanted to test.
"Let him transform," Nova ordered the empty air. "Let the monster rise. We need a target practice dummy."
***
**Side Story – The Commentary Box**
The void of the meta-narrative was littered with popcorn.
JACW threw a handful at the screen showing Phobio's transformation. "Look at him! The absolute cliché! 'I want power to beat my enemies!' Buddy, you're in a shonen-adjacent universe. Taking power from suspicious clowns is a 100% mortality rate decision."
TOAA sighed, sipping his coffee. "It's a necessary beat. The tragedy of the weak seeking shortcuts. It contrasts with Rimuru seeking alliances."
"It contrasts with Phobio being an idiot," JACW corrected.
The Presence sat silently, watching Nova. "He's doing it again."
"Doing what?" JACW asked.
"Editor Mode," The Presence rumbled. "He could stop this. He could teleport over there, decapitate the clowns, and slap Phobio back to his senses. But he's letting it happen because the 'Story' needs a raid boss."
"Well, yeah," TOAA said. "If Nova solved everything, the book would be ten pages long and titled 'Nova Stares at Things Until They Die'."
"I'd read that," JACW muttered. "But honestly, Charybdis? It's a giant flying shark. It's basically Sharknado with magic. Are we supposed to take this seriously?"
"Theme," TOAA said, pointing a pen. "It represents mindless consumption. The antithesis of Rimuru's structured consumption."
"It's a shark," JACW insisted. "A shark that eats sky. It's cool. Just admit it's cool."
***
**The Sky Darkens**
Two days later, the sky betrayed them.
It wasn't a storm. Clouds didn't gather; they were consumed. A massive shadow blotted out the sun, casting the Jura Forest into an premature twilight. The pressure was immense—a grinding, heavy magical density that made the weaker goblins fall to their knees, gasping for air.
The alarm sirens—magical devices developed by Kaijin—began to wail.
Rimuru rushed out of the command center, looking up. His face went pale.
"What… is that?"
It was enormous. A cyclopean monstrosity drifting through the heavens, a single giant eye dominating its armored head. It was a shark the size of a mountain, swimming through the air as if it were water. And swarming around it like flies were smaller beasts—Megalodons, flying sharks that were each the size of a bus.
Charybdis.
Nova materialized beside Rimuru. He didn't look up with fear. He looked up with appraisal.
"The seal is broken," Nova said calmly. "Phobio has become the core."
"Phobio?!" Rimuru gasped. "That idiot!"
"Hunger is a powerful motivator," Nova said. He turned to the gathered executives. Benimaru, Shion, Soei, Hakurou, Ranga. They were tense, but ready.
"This is not a duel," Nova announced, his voice carrying over the wailing sirens. "This is war. The enemy is a calamity class. It regenerates. It summons subordinates. And it has magic resistance that makes spells almost useless."
Benimaru grinned, his black flames licking his lips. "So we just have to hit it really, really hard?"
"Essentially."
Rimuru took a deep breath, his golden eyes narrowing. "Alright. Everyone, battle stations! We're not letting that oversized sushi platter touch our town!"
"Yeah!" the Kijin roared.
As they scattered to lead their units, Milim tugged on Nova's coat.
"Hey. Hey, Nova."
He looked down. She was vibrating with enough energy to power a continent.
"It's big. It's strong. Can I? Can I go? Please? Just one blast? A small one?"
Nova crouched down to eye level.
"Not yet."
Milim gasped, betrayed. "What?! Why?!"
"Because," Nova said, pointing at Rimuru, who was barking orders with newfound authority. "Look at him. He needs to understand the scale of the world. If you vaporize it now, he learns nothing."
"But it's boring!"
"Patience," Nova murmured. "Wait for the moment when despair sets in. That is when hope shines brightest. And that…" he poked her forehead, "…is your cue."
Milim crossed her arms, huffing. "Fine. I'll wait. But if they take too long, I'm eating all the lunch."
"Acceptable terms."
***
**The Battle of the Skies**
The battle began not with a roar, but with a collision.
The Megalodons dove. Fast. Vicious.
"Intercept them!" Rimuru ordered. "Soei!"
"At once."
Webs of sticky steel thread crisscrossed the sky. The Megalodons flew into them, slicing themselves apart on the invisible razors. It was a gruesome display of efficiency.
But Charybdis didn't care. It lumbered forward, ignoring the death of its minions.
"Benimaru! Hell Flare!"
A dome of black fire engulfed the titan. For a moment, it seemed to work. The beast roared. But as the flames cleared, the burned flesh was already knitting together.
"Review," Nova commentated from the roof, sipping a cup of tea he definitely shouldn't have had time to brew. "High-speed regeneration completely negates thermal damage. Inefficient."
Rimuru, flying on Ranga's back, grit his teeth. "Physical attacks then! Shion! Hakurou!"
Shion launched herself into the air, riding a platform of magic. "Hercules Edge!"
She swung the massive sword. The shockwave cleaved a chunk out of Charybdis's fin. But again, it healed in seconds.
"It's endless!" Shion yelled.
"Keep attacking!" Rimuru commanded. "Gluttony!"
Rimuru unleashed his own skill, trying to eat the beast's magicules. But Charybdis was vast. It was like trying to drink the ocean with a straw.
"The difference in capacity," Nova observed, "is the issue. Rimuru is a lake. Charybdis is a sea. You cannot swallow what is larger than yourself."
The battle raged for hours. The Tempest forces were winning the skirmishes—the Megalodons were falling like rain—but the main body was untouched. Charybdis was getting closer.
And then, it spoke.
Or rather, Phobio spoke through it.
"MILIM… NAVA…!!!!"
The roar shook the mountains.
Rimuru froze. "It… keeps saying her name."
Nova set his tea down. "Hostility directed at the strongest energy source. Predictable."
Milim, sitting on the roof swinging her legs, perked up. "Did it call me?"
Nova stood. The air around him shifted. The playful editor was gone, replaced by the ancient entity.
"Rimuru," Nova's voice projected across the battlefield, cutting through the noise of war.
Rimuru looked down.
"You have tried," Nova said. "You have fought well. But a hammer cannot cut water. And you do not have the tool for this job."
Rimuru looked at the regenerating monster, then at his exhausted friends. He clenched his fist. He hated admitting it.
"Nova… we can't kill it."
"No," Nova agreed. "You cannot."
He turned to the pouting Demon Lord beside him.
"Milim Nava."
Milim jumped up, eyes sparkling. "Yes?!"
"The enemy has insulted you. It has invaded your territory. And it is very, very loud."
Nova pointed at the sky.
"Silence it."
Milim didn't need to be told twice.
"WAHAHAHA! FINALLY!"
She launched into the sky. The sound barrier shattered instantly.
She hovered before the massive beast, a tiny speck of pink against the wall of grey scales.
"Hey! Fish-face!" Milim yelled. "You want me? Here I am!"
Charybdis roared and fired a barrage of magic scales—thousands of them.
Milim held up one hand. "Drago… Barrier."
The scales hit an invisible wall and vanished. Dust against a diamond.
"Is that it?" Milim asked, genuinely curious. "Nova stopped my punch. You can't even scratch my shield? Boring!"
She raised her hand. Magicules began to gather. Not the chaotic purple of before, but a focused, blinding blue-white light. The atmosphere began to scream.
On the ground, Nova watched.
*Ciel. Divert the blast radius. Protect the city.*
<
"Rimuru!" Nova called out. "I suggest you duck."
"Drago… BUSTER!"
The beam of light that erupted from Milim's hand was not an attack. It was an erasure. It pierced the sky, hitting Charybdis dead center.
There was no explosion. The beast simply… ceased to be solid. The beam pushed through it, vaporizing 80% of its mass instantly, carrying the rest of it into the upper atmosphere and beyond.
The clouds parted for miles. The shockwave knocked every flying monster out of the air.
Silence returned.
Milim floated there, looking at the empty sky. "Oops. Maybe a bit too much?"
On the ground, Rimuru's jaw was unhinged. "She… she just…"
Nova walked up to Rimuru, casually stepping over a stunned goblin.
"Perspective," Nova said quietly. "That is the power of a Demon Lord. That is the summit you are climbing toward."
Rimuru looked at Nova, terror and awe warring in his eyes. "And you… you stopped a punch from *that*?"
nova smirked—a rare, genuine expression of dark amusement.
"I told you," he whispered. "I am the editor. I cut the scenes that don't belong."
High above, a charred, human form fell from the sky—Phobio, stripped of the monster, alive but broken.
"The core is intact," Nova noted. "Go, Rimuru. Finish the story with grace. Save the fool. Make an ally of the Beast King."
Rimuru nodded, swallowing his fear. "Right. Right. Grace. I can do grace."
As Rimuru rushed to help the fallen Beastketeer, Milim landed beside Nova.
"Did I do good?" she asked, vibrating.
Nova reached into his pocket and pulled out a fresh jar of honey.
"Adequate," he said.
Milim cheered and hugged him, getting honey on his coat.
Nova sighed, looking at the sticky mess.
*Ciel. Add 'Laundry' to the list of divine attributes.*
<
The crisis was over. But in the shadows, Nova knew this was simply the prologue. The clowns had escaped. Clayman was still plotting. And the world… the world was beginning to realize just how dangerous the Tempest Federation had become.
He looked at the clear blue sky, where the scar of Milim's attack lingered like a warning from god.
"Next chapter," Nova whispered.
And the wind carried his words away.