The moment was thick with tension, magicules crackling through the air like thunderclouds before a storm. Three of the most infamous Primordials—Blanc, Jaune, and Violet—stood before Rimuru and Diablo, their demonic pressure flooding the cracked, jagged terrain of the Underworld. Behind them, great obsidian mountains loomed, casting shadows like the claws of the realm itself, and crimson rivers of lava bubbled like veins beneath the skin of a dying god.
The stillness was broken by Blanc, her hair white as the bone-choked sands underfoot. Her voice was sharp, amused.
"So, Noi…i mean Diablo" she smirked with ancient venom. "Who's your little friend? Doesn't look like one of us."
Diablo, expression cool but guarded, replied, "He is Rimuru Tempest, the newly appointed King of Nyvaris."
The three demons blinked. Violet scoffed first, her deep purple eyes narrowing. "Nyvaris? The hell is that?"
Jaune cackled, flicking her golden bangs from her face. "A king, huh? And you brought him here of all places? What is this, a suicide trip?" Her laughter echoed through the barren plains like a chorus of cackling banshees. "Did you bring him to get his royal ass kicked, Diablo?"
They all erupted in mocking laughter, their auras swelling as if feeding off their shared disdain.
Diablo's lips parted to speak, a flicker of flame burning in his eyes—but Rimuru calmly raised his hand. The gesture alone silenced not just Diablo, but the very air.
Rimuru stepped forward, gaze unwavering. His voice was calm—dangerously so.
"I came here to recruit you."
The demons' laughter stopped like a broken record. A blink. Then silence.
"You three," Rimuru continued, his tone as unshakable as steel in divine hands. "Diablo vouched for you. I want you to work for me."
Blanc narrowed her eyes. "What?"
Jaune tilted her head, her smirk returning. "Why the hell would we work for some stranger who strolls into our realm waving titles we've never heard of?"
Violet's voice turned lethal. "You don't look like a demon. You look weak. Let me make this clear—we do not follow the weak. You're either strong enough to command us, or you're dust beneath our feet."
Rimuru smiled—a calm, deadly smile.
"No," he replied, his voice echoing unnaturally, layered like the sound of creation unraveling. "You don't have a say in the matter, you don't have a choice, you will kneel. Or you will be destroyed and erased from existence."
Time seemed to stop. The Underworld rumbled beneath them.
The three Primordials' smiles twisted into fury. They didn't hesitate.
Jaune launched first, a glyph forming beneath her as she unleashed Oblivion Pyre, a spiraling sphere of molten, chaotic destruction. The spell carried enough power to level kingdoms.
Blanc came next, weaving sigils of Frozen Damnation, spears of crystalized negative energy that distorted time around them, piercing space like black lightning.
Violet followed, invoking Crimson Death Waltz, an explosion of raw entropy that twisted sound and light around her, corrupting the fabric of magic itself.
All three attacks collided on Rimuru's position in a single, blinding instant.
A sun was born in the Underworld—a bloom of catastrophic energy that tore the land asunder, formed a crater deep enough to touch the lower pits. Shockwaves ripped through the land. Skies cracked. Demons across the realm fell to their knees, convulsing in fear.
The Primordials grinned wickedly, floating above the cataclysm.
"Guess he wasn't much," Jaune muttered.
But then… the smoke began to clear.
A silhouette remained.
Standing.
Untouched.
Rimuru's body glowed faintly with golden-white fractals—runic patterns etched into his very being from Varvatos' evolution ritual. His eyes glowed with a cold, divine azure. Even the ambient magic around him seemed to obey him, curling like servants before a throne.
He murmured, almost to himself.
"…This evolution Varvatos did to me is insane."
And then—he vanished.
No movement. No sound. One second he was there—and in the next heartbeat—
BOOM.
Jaune screamed. Rimuru's fist buried deep into her gut, compacting her core so violently her body folded. The shockwave behind the punch obliterated a small mountain in the background. Her magic dispersed like dust. She hit the ground so hard she bounced.
"—URK!"
Before Violet could react, Rimuru was behind her.
"Your neck is unguarded," he whispered. And crack—he delivered a single karate chop.
Her entire body shut down mid-spell, limbs seizing up as if her soul had short-circuited. She fell like a leaf drifting from a dying tree, unconscious before she hit the ground.
Blanc's eyes widened in horror. She began weaving a forbidden incantation—a forbidden technique: Eclipse Bloom, designed to erase matter from multiple planes at once.
But Rimuru was already in front of her.
His palm descended.
CRACK.
It landed directly atop her skull. It was gentle, almost—a tap compared to the devastation of before—but the ground cratered beneath her like a meteor had landed. She collapsed, buried in her own crater, the magic cancelling from her body like a dying scream.
Silence.
All three lay broken and unconscious.
Diablo, watching from the edge of the battlefield, wore a look of awe even he couldn't mask.
"This… this is no longer the Rimuru Tempest I once met…" he whispered. "He's become something else… something even we demons can't measure."
The smoldering silence after Rimuru's display of sheer dominance hung like an oppressive fog over the dark, shattered battlefield. Diablo stood silently, watching his lord with an expression that teetered between reverence and awe. The once-proud territory that the three primordials called home was now etched with cratered scars and lingering arcs of spatial distortion—remnants of the overwhelming power Rimuru had just unleashed.
A few minutes passed. The battered bodies of Blanc, Jaune, and Vert—the infamous primordials—lay motionless, sprawled across the broken terrain. Their immense magical auras flickered like dying embers, far different from the arrogant demonic presence they once wielded with impunity.
Then Rimuru, without emotion but full of intent, walked towards them.
He raised one hand. His eyes glowed—not with malice, but with authority absolute.
In that moment, Diablo narrowed his eyes as he felt a strange ripple in the air—an unknown resonance that vibrated across dimensions, through space, and into the core of magic itself. It was not holy. Nor was it cursed. It was beyond classification.
"What is this magic...?" Diablo murmured, stunned. "Even I... cannot decipher it. Lord Varvatos… what have you done to Rimuru…?"
Rimuru whispered, "Genesis Bind: Soul Reforge."
A radiant, eerie symbol appeared beneath the bodies of the three primordials—a circular sigil layered with arcane geometry, rotating with silent dread. Black and gold flames licked their bodies without burning them, reassembling muscle, skin, and soul simultaneously.
With a sudden flash of crimson light, the three primordials gasped as if they had been drowned and violently pulled back to life.
They jolted upright, panting, sweat dripping down their faces despite their demonic forms. Their eyes widened in confusion, then horror, as they laid eyes on Rimuru—still calm, still standing, not a single scratch on his body.
"W-What just happened?" Vert—now known as Violet—muttered in disbelief.
"What did you do to us...?" Blanc gasped, rubbing her arm where her magic circuits had been forcefully rewritten.
Then the memories returned.
The punch.
The speed.
The pain.
The overwhelming pressure of absolute dominance.
The three exchanged terrified glances—something they had never once felt in their entire existence—pure, primal fear. For the first time in eons, they felt small.
Rimuru stepped forward slowly, his voice cold and commanding, echoing like a divine decree.
"You lost."
They flinched.
"You have seen my strength. Now hear my words. From this day forth, you will serve me, Rimuru Tempest, King of Nyvaris."
They didn't dare speak.
He narrowed his eyes. "Any objections?"
A heavy silence followed.
Blanc, once full of pride and disdain, lowered her head. Jaune clenched her fists in trembling frustration. Violet turned her eyes away, shame painted on her face. But none of them uttered a word.
Rimuru smiled. "Very well."
He approached Blanc first. He placed his hand gently on her forehead. The moment he did, a torrent of divine energy surged through her body, bathing her in celestial flames that twisted and enhanced her very soul. Her white hair shimmered silver, her demonic aura crystallized into a brilliant red-tinged brilliance.
"From this day forth, you shall be known as Testarossa."
A blinding pulse erupted from her body, blasting out a shockwave of power that forced Diablo to take a step back. The transformation was godlike—her body refined, her core stabilized, her power multiplied tenfold. Her eyes gleamed with reverence.
"I… I feel it. My power… it's never been like this."
Rimuru walked to Jaune. The golden-skinned demon stood taller, but now her pride had melted into silent anticipation. Rimuru looked at her, nodded once, and placed his hand upon her.
"You shall be named Carrera."
Lightning cracked across the skies as Jaune's body ignited in arcs of plasma. Her demonic circuits, once raw and wild, harmonized perfectly. A golden sheen covered her as her transformation completed. Her lips trembled—not from fear, but awe.
"I... I've evolved. This isn't just a name. You've... ascended me."
Finally, Rimuru turned to Violet. She had watched the other two receive their blessings, her impatience boiling over. Her eyes glimmered with hunger, not for chaos—but for acknowledgment.
"And you…" Rimuru said softly, placing his hand on her head, "will be known as Ultima."
A shriek of raw chaotic energy erupted from her. The ground beneath her twisted as time and space fractured momentarily. A swirling vortex of demonic void and starlight engulfed her—her wings expanded, her aura warped into a crown of spiraling energy. She emerged reborn—more elegant, more savage, more complete.
All three primordials stood before Rimuru now—Testarossa, Carrera, and Ultima—reforged by his power, elevated far beyond their previous limits.
Without hesitation, they dropped to one knee.
"From this moment forward, we shall serve you, Rimuru-sama… for eternity."
Rimuru looked at Diablo, who simply smiled with pride in his master.
Then, in his mind, Rimuru called upon his skill:
"Hestia… open a portal to Nyvaris."
The space around him shimmered, and a divine ring formed midair. Slowly, it expanded, revealing a vast horizon of a dark, beautiful kingdom—Nyvaris, the land of shadows and stars.
Rimuru turned, his cloak billowing in the otherworldly wind. "Let's go. We have much work to do."
Without hesitation, Diablo, Testarossa, Carrera, and Ultima stepped forward and followed their king through the portal—towards a new era, one forged by chaos, order, and eternal allegiance.