Tensura Reaction/Short

A Slime's Second Life

In the heart of Tempest's grand palace, Rimuru Tempest sat behind a mountain of paperwork, his face impassive as he mechanically signed document after document. His office was vast and grand, befitting the King of Tempest, but the opulence did little to lighten the oppressive weight that Rimuru felt in his chest. The rhythmic scratching of the quill in his hand filled the room, but the task no longer held any meaning for him.

For a thousand years, he had been the anchor that kept Tempest at the peak of the world's power, overseeing the nation's affairs, securing peace, and guiding his people with a careful hand. The Great Tema War was long over, and the world had settled into a peaceful era under his watch. Yet, peace had brought with it a new kind of burden, a ceaseless routine, a cycle of endless governance.

Rimuru, who had once sought peace and prosperity for all, now found himself drowning in the monotony of leadership. As a slime who had evolved far beyond his origins, becoming a True Dragon and the most powerful being in existence, he never expected that such a simple thing like ruling would be so... exhausting.

With a heavy sigh, Rimuru tossed his quill aside, leaning back in his chair. He glanced at the window, watching the sun dip below the horizon. His glowing eyes reflected the twilight, but behind them, there was nothing but an overwhelming sense of boredom.

"I didn't sign up for this..." he muttered to himself.

There was a soft knock at the door, and it creaked open slightly. Shuna peeked her head inside, her ever-pleasant smile on her face. "Rimuru-sama, it's time for your evening meeting with the council. Shall I prepare your notes?"

Rimuru rubbed his temples and waved a hand dismissively. "No, Shuna. Cancel the meeting."

Shuna blinked, her serene expression faltering for a moment. "Cancel? But, Rimuru-sama, we've never missed a-"

"I know, I know," Rimuru interrupted, his voice tired but resolute. "I'm just... not in the mood. Take care of it for me, please."

For a moment, Shuna hesitated, concern flashing in her eyes. "Rimuru-sama, is something wrong? You've seemed... different lately."

Rimuru met her gaze, offering a faint smile. "I'm fine, Shuna. Just... tired. Don't worry about it."

Though still clearly worried, Shuna nodded and quietly closed the door behind her as she left. Rimuru sat in silence for a moment before finally rising from his seat. He walked to the window, gazing out at the city of Tempest. It was thriving, alive with activity, prosperous, and peaceful. Everything he had ever dreamed of.

And yet, in his heart, he felt empty.

Days passed, and Rimuru's detachment only grew more evident. He began skipping meetings, avoiding his responsibilities, and delegating more and more tasks to his trusted subordinates. The people of Tempest didn't notice immediately, his council, led by Benimaru, Shion, and Shuna, was more than capable of handling day-to-day affairs. But those closest to Rimuru could sense that something was wrong.

Shion, always eager to please Rimuru, grew increasingly frustrated as her usual methods of coaxing him into his duties no longer worked. Even her cooking, which had improved drastically over the centuries, failed to rouse any enthusiasm from him. Benimaru, ever the leader, tried to take on more responsibilities to ease Rimuru's burden, but he couldn't help feeling uneasy about the growing distance between them.

It wasn't until one fateful day when Rimuru called a meeting of his closest advisors that the true gravity of the situation became clear.

Rimuru stood before his inner circle, Benimaru, Shuna, Shion, Diablo, and the others, his expression calm but resolute. "I've gathered you all here because there's something I need to tell you," He began, his voice steady but lacking its usual warmth.