Rimuru the sin of love

The story of the Time Mage

Sariel's POV

Rimuru's calm stride didn't falter, her confidence emanating with every step as she continued through the radiant halls of the Goddess Realm. Her demeanor suggested that she wasn't bothered by the attention she garnered from those we passed. If anything, she seemed to revel in it, though not in an overbearing way—more like someone who knew exactly how to play her cards.

As she glanced at me over her shoulder, her tone turned conversational, but her words carried a weight that was impossible to ignore.

"You know, Sariel, I'm not easy to impress," she began, her voice as casual as if she were commenting on the weather. "But during my travels, I came across something... interesting. A mage with the ability to alter time itself."

Her words stopped me in my tracks. Time alteration? That kind of magic was beyond what most mortals could ever dream of. Even among celestials, manipulating time was a rare and dangerous ability, one that demanded immense power and precision.

"Alter time?" I repeated, my skepticism evident. "That's not a skill easily mastered. Who was this mage?"

She shrugged, her tone light but laced with intrigue. "I believe people called her Merlin."

The name hit me like a bolt of lightning. Of course, I had heard of Merlin—the prodigious mage whose feats had become the stuff of legend even beyond the mortal realm. Her reputation for defying the boundaries of magic was unparalleled, and her mastery of various forms of magic had earned her a place of both respect and fear.

"You encountered Merlin?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"I didn't just encounter her," Rimuru said with a faint smirk. "I spent time with her. Observed her, studied her work. And while I wouldn't say she's on par with a celestial, her ability to manipulate time was... impressive. For a mortal, at least."

Her nonchalant delivery only added to my unease. "And what exactly did you observe? Did she attempt to use this magic in your presence?"

Rimuru tilted her head, her smile almost playful. "You sound worried, Sariel. Don't worry—she didn't try to rewrite history or anything. But the way she bent time around her, using it as both a weapon and a shield... it was fascinating."

I frowned, my thoughts racing. If what Rimuru was saying was true, Merlin's capabilities posed a potential threat—not just to the mortal realm but to the balance of magic itself.

"She's a mortal," I said, more to myself than to Rimuru. "No mortal should have access to that kind of power."

"Perhaps," Rimuru replied, her tone thoughtful. "But isn't that what makes her so interesting? Mortals aren't supposed to wield celestial-level abilities, yet she does it anyway. Doesn't that intrigue you, even a little?"

I hesitated, unwilling to admit that she had a point. Merlin's existence was an anomaly, a breach of the natural order that demanded scrutiny. But it also represented something else—an unshakable determination to transcend limits, to achieve the impossible.

"And what do you think of her?" I asked finally, my voice careful.

Rimuru's smile softened, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something almost like respect in her eyes. "I think she's dangerous, but not in the way you'd expect. Merlin doesn't follow anyone's rules but her own, and that makes her unpredictable. But... I can't deny her brilliance. Even I was impressed, and that doesn't happen often."

Her words left me uneasy, a strange mix of curiosity and caution settling over me. If Merlin truly possessed the power to alter time, then her presence in the mortal realm was a variable we couldn't afford to ignore.

"She's someone to watch," I said quietly, more to myself than to Rimuru.

Rimuru chuckled softly, her smirk returning. "Oh, I'm sure she's already watching us. But don't worry, Sariel—if she becomes a problem, I'll be the first to let you know."

I wasn't sure whether to be reassured or even more wary of her calm demeanor, but one thing was certain—Rimuru's connections ran deeper than I had realized, and the threads she pulled were far more intricate than I'd anticipated.

Rimuru's words about Merlin lingered in my mind like a distant storm cloud—impressive, dangerous, and entirely unpredictable. But just as I thought she'd leave it at that, she spoke again, her tone shifting to something more serious, almost contemplative.

"But there's one thing about her you should really think about, Sariel," she said, her voice calm but carrying an edge that hinted at the weight of her words.

I turned to look at her, my frown deepening. "And what's that?"

"She's still undecided," Rimuru replied, her gaze distant as though she were piecing together the larger picture in her mind. "About where she stands in the war. The idea that someone like Merlin could even consider siding with demonkind? That's not something you can ignore."

The gravity of her statement wasn't lost on me. Merlin's potential allegiance wasn't just a question of strategy—it was a threat to the very balance we fought to maintain.

"She's that dangerous?" I asked, my voice quiet but firm.

Rimuru nodded, her fingers brushing against the gem of her necklace as if grounding herself. "You don't need me to tell you how dangerous she is. You've already guessed as much. But it's not just her magic that makes her a problem. It's her mindset. She doesn't play by anyone's rules but her own, and that makes her impossible to predict."

Her words sent a chill through me, but what she said next struck even deeper.

"She's already demonstrated the ability to stop her body from aging, Sariel. Do you understand what that means?"

I did, and the realization sent a wave of unease through me. If Merlin had effectively halted her aging, then she had achieved a form of immortality—an ability that even among celestials was rare and often tied to divine power. For a mortal to wield such a skill was unthinkable.

"That can't happen," I said firmly, my tone harsher than I intended. "If she aligns with the demon race, it could tip the balance entirely. Her power would make her a near-immortal ally for their side."

"Exactly," Rimuru said, her gaze locking with mine. "That's why you can't afford to overlook her. If she chooses to side with the demons, it won't just be a setback—it'll be catastrophic. Someone like Merlin doesn't just join a side. She shifts the entire battlefield."

Her words carried a weight I couldn't ignore, and for once, I found myself agreeing with her. Merlin's indecision, her potential to disrupt the balance, was a risk too great to ignore.

"And what about you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at Rimuru. "Where do you stand in all of this?"

She smiled faintly, the mischief in her expression returning just enough to frustrate me. "I stand exactly where I need to be, Sariel. Let's just say I have my own plans, and they don't involve tipping the scales too far in either direction."

Her evasiveness grated against me, but I let it slide—for now. There were bigger concerns to address, and Merlin's potential role in the war was at the top of that list.

"I'll take your warning under consideration," I said at last, my tone begrudging. "But if Merlin becomes a threat, don't expect me to sit idly by."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Rimuru replied, her voice light but her eyes sharp. "Just remember, Sariel—she's not the only wildcard in this game."

Her words lingered as we continued toward the meeting, her warning echoing in my mind like a distant drumbeat. Merlin, undecided, teetering on the edge of alliances, her immortality already a dangerous factor in play. And Rimuru, ever the enigma, weaving her plans with a confidence that made her impossible to ignore.

The war ahead would be unlike anything we had faced before, and for the first time in a long while, I found myself uncertain of what lay ahead.