The tension in Tempest remained thick in the air as Velgrynd settled into the city. Though she made no move to attack, her fiery presence kept everyone on edge. Velzard's frost, usually calm and serene, seemed to spike whenever her sister was near. Rimuru could sense it-the fragile truce could shatter at any moment.
He decided that something had to be done. Letting two dragon sisters simmer with unresolved tension was a disaster waiting to happen.
A Meal with a Side of Diplomacy
Rimuru summoned his council for an emergency meeting, though this one had an unusual agenda. Instead of battle strategies or governance, Rimuru proposed something that left even the stoic Diablo raising an eyebrow.
"A feast?" Benimaru repeated, unsure if he'd heard correctly.
"Yes, a feast," Rimuru said, crossing his arms. "Velgrynd might be our guest, but her arrival has everyone walking on eggshells. We need to ease that tension before it boils over. And what better way to do that than with food?"
Shion's eyes sparkled. "I'll cook something unforgettable!"
Rimuru winced, already regretting his decision to include her in the preparations. "Let's have Shuna handle the cooking, okay?"
Shion pouted but reluctantly agreed. Meanwhile, Velzard, who had been silently observing the conversation, spoke up.
"This won't work," she said flatly. "Velgrynd doesn't come to talk. She comes to test."
"And we'll meet that test," Rimuru replied, his tone firm. "But on our terms. If nothing else, it'll show her what Tempest is really about."
The Ice and Flame at the Table
The feast was held in the grand hall of Rimuru's castle. Long tables were laden with steaming dishes, both hearty and elegant. The room was filled with the aroma of spices, roasted meats, and freshly baked bread. The citizens of Tempest gathered in smaller groups, though most kept their distance from the two dragons seated at the head table.
Velzard sat to Rimuru's right, her expression calm but her aura sharp. Velgrynd was to his left, her golden eyes gleaming with amusement as she surveyed the spread before her.
"You've gone to quite a bit of trouble for me," Velgrynd said, picking up a goblet of wine. "Do you treat all your guests like this, Rimuru?"
"Only the ones who could incinerate my city," Rimuru replied with a grin. "Consider it insurance."
Velgrynd chuckled. "Fair enough."
As the feast began, Rimuru skillfully kept the conversation flowing, steering it away from contentious topics. Velzard mostly remained quiet, her icy gaze fixed on Velgrynd, while her sister seemed perfectly at ease, her fiery aura flickering gently.
"Your people are surprisingly resilient," Velgrynd said at one point, gesturing toward the city beyond the castle. "You've built something remarkable here."
Rimuru nodded. "Tempest is a place for everyone-no matter where they come from or what they are. Even dragons, if they're interested."
Velgrynd smirked. "Is that your way of recruiting me?"
"Just keeping my options open," Rimuru replied, his tone light.
Sparks Fly
But peace at the table was never going to last. As the evening wore on, Velzard and Velgrynd's verbal sparring grew sharper.
"You've changed, sister," Velgrynd said, swirling her goblet of wine. "I never thought I'd see the day when the great Ice Dragon would lower herself to dining with mortals."
Velzard's eyes flashed. "And I never thought I'd see the day when the mighty Flame Dragon would waste her time prying into my affairs."
Velgrynd leaned forward, her fiery aura flaring. "Perhaps I wouldn't need to if you hadn't abandoned your duties."
"I have not abandoned anything," Velzard snapped, her voice cold enough to frost over the table. "I am free to choose how I spend my time. Something you wouldn't understand."
The air between them grew heavy, fire and ice clashing in an invisible storm. The room fell silent as everyone watched, holding their breath.
Rimuru sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, that's enough. If you two want to fight, do it outside. Preferably far away from Tempest."
Velgrynd turned to him, her expression amused. "You're bold, slime. Most wouldn't dare speak to us like that."
"I'm not most," Rimuru said evenly. "And Tempest isn't a battleground. You're welcome here, Velgrynd, but not if you're going to pick fights."
Velzard's icy aura receded slightly, her expression softening. Velgrynd, for her part, seemed to consider his words before leaning back in her chair.
"Very well," Velgrynd said, her tone light. "For now."
A Subtle Shift
The rest of the feast continued without incident, though the tension lingered. Velzard remained quiet, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. Velgrynd, however, seemed intrigued by Rimuru's ability to mediate, her fiery gaze occasionally flicking toward him with a glimmer of curiosity.
As the evening wound down, Velzard and Velgrynd found themselves alone on the castle balcony, the city lights twinkling below.
"You've changed," Velgrynd said again, though this time her tone lacked its earlier edge.
"Perhaps," Velzard replied, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "But I am content with my choices. Can you say the same?"
Velgrynd was silent for a moment before replying, "I didn't come here to fight you, sister. I came to understand."
"And did you?" Velzard asked.
"Not yet," Velgrynd admitted. "But maybe I will."
The Calm Before the Storm
Though Velgrynd left the following morning, the weight of her visit lingered. Velzard's usual composure seemed more strained, and Rimuru couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in her demeanor.
"She'll be back," Velzard said quietly as she stood with Rimuru in the castle courtyard, watching the horizon where her sister had vanished.
"I figured," Rimuru replied. "But maybe next time, it'll be for the better."
Velzard glanced at him, her icy gaze softening just a fraction. "You're far too optimistic, Rimuru."
"And you're far too stubborn," he shot back with a grin.
For the first time in days, Velzard allowed herself a small smile. But even as she stood there, a quiet unease settled in her chest. Velgrynd's arrival had stirred something in her-an old wound, a long-buried memory, and a faint sense of foreboding.
Tempest might have survived this storm, but the true tempest was still on the horizon.
