Tensura Reaction/Short

The Slime King's Lethargy(1)

In the peaceful heart of Tempest, the sprawling city thrived under the protection of its eternal ruler, Rimuru Tempest. The nation had grown into a prosperous hub for both humans and monsters alike. For a millennium, after the Great Tema War, Tempest stood unrivaled, a beacon of unity and strength across the world.

Inside the grand castle of Rimuru, the Demon Lord sat at his desk, surrounded by endless stacks of paperwork. These documents, vital for the running of his vast empire, had been his daily burden for the past thousand years. Despite the weight of responsibility, Rimuru had managed to maintain peace and order across his realm with diligence and fairness.

But today, something felt different.

Rimuru stared blankly at the papers before him, his usual enthusiasm for governance flickering like a candle in the wind. His pen lay motionless in his hand, the ink drying on its tip. The once vibrant blue slime, who had always maintained a positive and eager attitude, now found himself weary, his mind drifting away from the tasks at hand.

"Do I really need to sign this?" Rimuru muttered, his voice dripping with fatigue. "All these laws, trade agreements, military treaties... it's all the same stuff over and over again. I've been doing this for centuries, haven't I?"

He leaned back in his chair, gazing at the towering piles of parchment that had accumulated around him. The room, usually tidy and organized, had become cluttered with documents that were never attended to.

"It's all pointless," Rimuru sighed, his once sharp, analytical mind now dulled by centuries of routine.

There was a time when the mere thought of Tempest's prosperity fueled him with excitement. Back then, every decision, every signature felt like shaping history. Now, however, it all seemed... trivial.

"I should take a break," he thought aloud, an idea that should have seemed preposterous given his nature, but somehow, it didn't. Not anymore.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Lord Rimuru," Shuna's gentle voice called from the other side. "I've brought your evening tea, and there's a stack of approvals for the upcoming festival that needs your signature."

Rimuru didn't respond. He stared at the door, tempted to slide into his slime form and simply vanish through a crack in the wall. In the past, a request from Shuna was enough to bring him to immediate attention. But now, the thought of facing her, and her inevitable disapproval, barely registered a reaction.

Another knock, this time a bit more insistent.

"Lord Rimuru?" Shuna's voice grew more formal, a warning sign that patience was wearing thin.

Rimuru sighed, tapping his finger on the desk. He wasn't in the mood for this. He wasn't in the mood for anything.

"Tell her I'm not here," he mumbled to no one in particular, then vanished, dissolving into a puddle of slime and slipping under the door before Shuna could enter.

A few minutes later...

Rimuru reformed in the garden outside his castle, sighing with relief as he stretched out lazily on the grass. The warm afternoon sunbathed his slime body in comforting heat, and the scent of blooming flowers was oddly soothing. This was far better than sitting at his desk, drowning in papers.

"I should've done this years ago," Rimuru chuckled, resting under a tree. He hadn't allowed himself this kind of freedom in so long. He'd been so caught up in managing the kingdom, in being the 'perfect ruler,' that he'd forgotten what it meant to relax.

His mind began to wander. For the first time in centuries, he allowed himself to reflect not on the future, not on the kingdom's endless needs, but on his own desires. Was this what it meant to be immortal? To be burdened by endless monotony? A ruler who had achieved everything and more but now had nothing left to strive for.

His thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. He looked up lazily and saw Benimaru striding towards him, a worried expression on his face.

"Rimuru-sama! You're... outside?" Benimaru raised an eyebrow. "Shuna's been looking for you. She's worried."

Rimuru waved his hand dismissively. "Tell her not to bother me for a while. I'm... taking a break."

"A... break?" Benimaru repeated, clearly confused. "But, Rimuru-sama, you never take breaks. You've been the one running things for centuries. Without your leadership, Tempest-"

"Tempest will be fine," Rimuru interrupted, a tone of finality in his voice. "Everything's running smoothly. I've put enough systems in place that they don't need me micromanaging every detail."

Benimaru frowned. He had never seen Rimuru like this. "Rimuru-sama, is something wrong? You've always been so dedicated..."

"Nothing's wrong," Rimuru said, his tone now indifferent. "I just don't feel like doing it anymore. Paperwork, meetings, endless reports... it's all so boring."

Benimaru was speechless. Rimuru, the one they all admired for his boundless energy and optimism, was speaking as if he had lost all passion for ruling.

"I'll take over for now," Benimaru offered hesitantly. "But the people need you, Rimuru-sama. They look up to you."

Rimuru gave a lazy yawn, turning away and settling back into the grass. "They'll be fine. Besides, you can handle it, Benimaru. You're strong enough."

Benimaru opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself. There was something in Rimuru's tone, a weariness that made him realize this wasn't just a passing mood. It was something deeper, something that had been brewing for a long time.

"Very well," Benimaru said reluctantly, bowing before he turned to leave. "But the others will want to speak to you soon."

Rimuru watched as Benimaru disappeared into the distance, a slight smirk forming on his face.

"Let them come," he whispered to himself. "They'll get used to it soon enough."

For the first time in a thousand years, Rimuru wasn't afraid of what others expected from him. Not even Shuna.