What is this Dimensional Chat???

Jura Forest – Tempest

"AAA AA!!! WUW!!! No way!!!"

The Black Dragon groaned, burying her face in her hands as she sighed heavily. "Why... Why are you so noisy this early in the morning? Can't you let people sleep in peace?"

"Gila, gila, gila! This is insane!" Satria shot up from his bed, grinning like an idiot. "This is it, Fatalis. This is the real deal! No doubt about it! This is freaking amazing!"

Fatalis rubbed her temple, still half-asleep. "What the hell are you even talking about?"

"This is exactly what it looks like, my dear wife! I was sleeping peacefully, right? Then suddenly, I had a dream—a mysterious black figure appeared before me and transferred its knowledge to me. And now... I can feel it! My power has doubled—no, tripled!" Satria threw his head back, laughing like a villain in an anime. "Damn! I almost let that dark power consume me. But come on, who do you think I am? Who gave me this power? And why would I let it control me? Clearly, something beyond this world wants me to become the Destroyer of Worlds... but obviously, as the Hero of Kindness, I can't let that happen. It's my duty to protect the innocent!"

Fatalis groaned again, rubbing her eyes as she turned to her overly dramatic husband. There he was, standing by the window, arms crossed, glaring out at the sunrise like it had personally offended him.

"I bet... you asked Bang Darkest to do something stupid again, didn't you?" Fatalis narrowed her eyes at him. "What, you thought I wouldn't notice? Anyway, if he comes back, you better apologize."

Satria turned, flashing an exaggeratedly sinister grin—only to falter when he saw the unimpressed look on his wife's face. "W-What? How did you... Wait... He is me! Why should I apologize to myself?!"

Fatalis poked him in the ribs, making him yelp. "No excuses or... I told the girl at home to ignore you for two weeks without cuddling and you'll be sleeping in the dungeons in this world tonight, are we clear?"

"Yes Ma'am!" Satria gives salute to his wife.

"Good boy." Fatalis smirked, but then, her expression softened into something more playful. "Hm... Honey~ before we head out, how about we go one more round?"

"Are you serious? We've been at it for three days straight! If I were a normal human, I'd be dead from snu-snu by now!" Satria blinked, Thanks to his ability to manipulate time, he is able to make one night like three days.

"Well~ you're not a normal human anymore, so there's no problem, is there?" Fatalis teased, her golden eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Looks like you still want to play, my mate," Ophis purred, joining in with an expectant look. "I do too."

Satria sighed in mock defeat before smirking. Wrapping his arms around both of them, he pulled them close. "Alright then, my lovely Black Dragon and my dear Void Dragon... let's have some fun before we meet the others outside."

•

Outside the private chambers of the Satria family, a certain blue slime stood frozen, his entire gelatinous body tinted a deep shade of red.

Rimuru had only intended to wake them up, maybe greet them with a casual "Good morning!" and move on with the day.

Instead, he found himself rooted to the spot, unwilling—yet unable—to move as muffled voices from inside the room sent shivers down his core.

"Ah~! Satria! Finish inside me one more time!"

"I'm gonna shoot another thick load in your loli pussy, Ophis!"

"Cum Satria~!"

"I'm Cummings!"

"Ohhhh~ With this large amount... I'm really going to conceive of the Satria baby~!"

"Haa...That felt good, you're next bun. Now spread your legs like a good girl."

"Yes~ Mmm! Your dick... Is all the way in!"

"Fatalis, I'm already gonna...!"

"Ah~ Give all to me~ Because I only belong to you."

"I love you Fatalis!"

"Ah! Ah~! If you say stuff like that while thrusting so hard. I'll cum!"

"Take it all, Fatalis!"

"Ahhhh!!! I... I love you, Satria. It's not enough... More~ Love me more."

Rimuru felt his nonexistent stomach twist. Heat rushed to his face, and his normally cool, composed mind short-circuited.

'W-What the hell am I listening to?!'

He didn't mean to eavesdrop! He really, really didn't! But the second he turned to leave, another moan slipped through the door, and his body simply refused to move.

'This is bad. This is really bad. Why am I still standing here?!'

The discomfort grew, but deep inside, so did something else—something unfamiliar, something he didn't want to admit.

Jealousy.

It was a dull ache, an unwanted pang of longing that he had tried to bury countless times before.

He clenched his fists, frustrated with himself. He was Rimuru Tempest—a genderless being, the protector of Tempest, the ruler of an entire village. He wasn't supposed to feel this.

"I shouldn't be feeling like this…" he muttered under his breath, his blue eyes narrowing.

But no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, the feelings kept surfacing—every time Satria was near.

It's all his fault…

Ever since their first battle, Satria had turned his world upside down. That overwhelming strength, that unwavering kindness, that stupid, infuriating warmth—why? Why did he show him such care? Why did he step into his life and change everything?

"You're watching him again, aren't you?"

Rimuru froze.

He turned sharply, only to find Great Red standing a few feet away, her crimson hair catching the morning light. A knowing, playful smile curled on her lips.

"R-Red?!" Rimuru s stammered, his already flustered state worsening. "I-uh… wasn't expecting you."

Great Red chuckled, arms crossed as she leaned against the wall. "You're not exactly subtle, you know."

Rimuru's heart—or whatever the closest equivalent was—skipped a beat. "Obvious? What do you mean?"

She took a step closer, her gaze locking onto his. "Your feelings for Satria."

Rimuru stiffened.

Great Red leaned in slightly, lowering her voice just enough to ensure those inside the room wouldn't hear. "I've seen the way you look at him. It's not just admiration, is it?"

Rimuru's face burned hotter than ever. "I… I don't know what you're talking about."

Great Red smirked, tilting her head. "Rimuru, it's okay. You don't have to hide it. I know that feeling, too." She sighed, her expression softening. "Like you, I want to be accepted by his family. I want to stand by his side."

Rimuru's gaze dropped, and he let out a slow breath. "…I just don't understand these feelings."

"I've never felt like this before," he admitted. "And… it's not fair to his wives. They have a strong relationship. I won't ruin that."

Great Red let out a light laugh, shaking her head. "You really think you're going to ruin something?" Her golden eyes gleamed with amusement. "Rimuru, , in his culture, and in Satria's faith, polygamy is allowed."

Rimuru's head snapped up. "What?"

"That's what I heard from Fatalis~," Great Red teased.

Rimuru stared, completely thrown off. "Wait. What?"

She giggled at his dumbfounded expression. "You know, Rimuru… I have a feeling you weren't exactly experienced in romance back in your past life."

"H-Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" His voice was defensive, though deep down, he had an idea where this was going.

Great Red chuckled, clearly enjoying his reaction. "I mean, for someone as brilliant as you, you sure are clueless when it comes to emotions. Especially romantic ones." She gave him a sideways glance, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Were you always this… inexperienced?"

Rimuru's face burned even hotter. "H-Hey! That's not fair!" He crossed his arms, huffing. "I just… never had time for stuff like that, okay?"

Great Red raised an eyebrow. "Too busy to notice anyone? Or too shy to make a move?"

Rimuru scoffed, trying to keep his dignity intact. "I was just… focused on my career. And… well, let's just say I wasn't exactly lucky when it came to romance."

Great Red smirked. "So no great love stories? No secret admirers? No steamy romances?"

Rimuru g groaned, covering his face. "No! Of course not! I wasn't exactly popular in that way!"

She burst into laughter, thoroughly enjoying herself. "Aw, poor little slime. No one to flirt with back then?"

"Please stop teasing me, Red-san!" Rimuru a all but whined, hiding his face behind his hands.

Great Red only laughed harder.

•

As Rimuru a and Great Red continued their conversation, completely engrossed in their back-and-forth teasing, they remained blissfully unaware of one crucial fact—Satria and the others had overheard nearly everything.

While pretending to focus on their own business, Satria had been listening closely, catching every flustered remark from Rimuru and every playful tease from Great Red.

Then, a burst of laughter broke the silence.

"LOL! I finally understand why Japan's population is plummeting." Fatalis barely held back her laughter, shaking her head in amusement. "Seriously, my dear husband, what are you going to do now, O Hero of Kindness?"

Satria exhaled dramatically, rubbing his temple. "... Pulang yuk."

"No, no, no." Fatalis grabbed his arm before he could even think of retreating. "I refuse to raise my little boy into a coward. What would your parents say if they saw their son breaking hearts left and right without giving an answer?"

Satria groaned. "Oh, come on. It's not like that!"

"I agree." Ophis chimed in, her tone flat yet decisive. "You can kick Baka Red whenever you want, but not Rimuru. Her cooking is delicious~ I like her. She's so kind, unlike the Thieving Dragon beside her."

Satria blinked. "You really don't like Great Red, huh?"

Ophis nodded, completely unbothered.

Fatalis smirked, leaning in slightly. "So? What's it gonna be, husband~?"

Satria sighed, crossing his arms. "Talk is easy, but in the end, I'll be the one suffering if things go wrong." He huffed. "Also, since when is Rimuru a she?"

Fatalis scoffed. "Does it really matter? If you ignore Rimuru's past, even you have to admit—she's wife material."

Satria opened his mouth to argue—then stopped.

"…I… can't deny that… somehow?"

The realization hit him harder than expected.

His heart raced as embarrassment and confusion washed over him. His wives seemed completely at ease with the idea, but he? He didn't even know what to think.

Had Rimuru been struggling with these feelings for a while? Had he been blind to it all along?

And, more importantly…

What was he supposed to do now?

•

The grand meeting hall of Tempest buzzed with urgency as leaders and advisors gathered around the large table. Maps covered its surface, marked with notes and symbols detailing the looming threat of the Orc Lord. The air was thick with tension, and every pair of eyes reflected a mix of determination and uncertainty.

Among those present were Satria, Fatalis, Ophis, Great Red, and Rimuru—each an influential figure in their own right. The weight of the upcoming war rested on their shoulders, and the decisions made here would shape the future of Tempest.

As the meeting commenced, Rimuru sat at the head of the table, his usual confidence slightly dimmed by the unspoken tension lingering between him and Satria. He stole a glance across the table, finding Satria deep in thought, his brow slightly furrowed, gaze distant—as if his mind wandered elsewhere.

Rimuru cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Alright, everyone. We need to discuss the Orc Lord's movements and how we're going to repel him. Satria, what do we know so far? What's the best course of action?"

"If..."

Satria's eyes flickered for a moment. He heard Fatalis's voice in his mind, her presence brushing against his consciousness.

{Stop, Great Red. I want them to gain experience and not rely on us too much. Let them grow on their own}

{Oh? You can talk in my mind too?~ Alright, boy. Do as you please. Entertain me}

Satria exhaled before speaking, a teasing smirk ghosting his lips. "Hmm… The Orc Lord—Gemoy, or whatever its name is—is leading an army of ravenous orcs, consuming everything in their path. Your new nation is at risk of being completely overrun. Your army has potential, but you're outnumbered, and your tactics lack cohesion."

His gaze swept across the gathered warriors. "You've all been fighting like individual powerhouses, not as a unified force. That needs to change. If you want to win this war, you need discipline. You need strategy."

Rimuru watched Satria with interest, noting the sheer presence he commanded in the room. It was a stark contrast to the carefree attitude he usually displayed. This was a man who understood war—who had lived it.

Satria continued, his voice firm but composed. "I will teach you all how to fight like proper soldiers under my command. No more reckless charging, no more disorganized skirmishes. If we play this right, we can turn their overwhelming numbers against them."

As he spoke, he swiftly reorganized Tempest's forces, introducing structured formations, supply lines, and tactical retreats—concepts that were foreign to many of the monster races present. They had relied on brute strength and raw talent for too long. Now, they were being shaped into a real army.

But Satria didn't stop there.

Seeing the potential of this world, he sought to elevate Tempest beyond just its military power. He proposed advancements in infrastructure and industry, working alongside the Dwarven engineers to implement cutting-edge designs from his own world. He envisioned Tempest not just as a stronghold, but as a thriving nation—one that could rival the likes of Singapore, and perhaps even surpass it.

A small nation, maybe. But a prosperous one.

And under his guidance, it would rise.

As the meeting neared its conclusion, Satria stood, commanding the attention of everyone present. His sharp gaze swept across the room before he spoke.

"Before we end this meeting, I want to introduce something crucial—the Codex Tempestum."

The gathered leaders exchanged glances, intrigued by the unfamiliar term.

Rigurd, ever the warrior, leaned forward with curiosity. "Codex Tempestum? What exactly is that, Satria-sama?"

Satria smirked, clearly pleased that he had their attention. "It's a set of guidelines designed by me to govern both Tempest's military and civil structures, ensuring discipline, efficiency, and unity. It's a blueprint for stability and long-term success."

Rimuru, though initially overwhelmed by Satria's relentless drive for reform, quickly saw the value in such a system. "Go on," he encouraged, intrigued by the idea.

Satria nodded and continued. "The Codex will be divided into three core principles:

1. Military Doctrine – Every warrior must understand strategy, formations, and discipline. Power alone does not win wars—coordination does. This section will include ranking structures, training regimens, chain of command, and rules of engagement. No more reckless charges; every battle will be fought with precision.

2. Governance & Law – Tempest is growing rapidly, and without clear laws, chaos will follow. This section will ensure fair governance, justice, and clear responsibilities for both leadership and citizens. It will outline taxation, resource management, and civil rights to prevent corruption and maintain harmony among different races.

3. Technological & Economic Advancement – Tempest must not only be strong but also prosperous. The Codex will encourage innovation, industry, and infrastructure, working closely with Dwarven engineers to modernize agriculture, trade, and construction. If we want Tempest to thrive, we must build a foundation that lasts beyond mere survival."

A silence followed as the weight of Satria's words sank in.

Benimaru's eyes shone with admiration. "So, it's not just about war… It's about ensuring Tempest's future, Sasuga Satria-sama!"

Satria nodded. "Exactly. A kingdom that only knows war will crumble when the battles stop. We're not just fighting for survival—we're building a nation that will stand the test of time."

Rimuru, who had long sought a way to ensure stability without relying solely on his own strength, smiled. "You really believe in this world's potential, don't you?"

Satria met his gaze, his expression softening. "I do. Your world has far more potential than even you realize, Rimuru. With your power and the discipline I can instill, Tempest will become a beacon of order and progress in this realm."

Rimuru chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Man… You really never stop pushing forward, do you?"

Satria smirked. "Not when there's something worth fighting for."

Rimuru extended his hand, and without hesitation, Satria took it.

"Then let's make this work. Together."

Satria nodded. "Together, we'll make sure Tempest not only survives—but thrives."

The sun rose over Tempest, casting a golden hue across the training grounds. The morning air buzzed with anticipation as hundreds of monsters gathered, their eyes fixed on the man standing before them.

Satria surveyed the assembled warriors. The variety of races—goblins, ogres, wolves, lizardmen, and others—stood ready, their raw strength undeniable, yet lacking in coordination. Strength without direction was chaos, and today, that would change.

Rimuru stood to the side, watching his friend with admiration—and something else he didn't want to acknowledge. 'He's completely different when he's like this… Unlike his usual laid-back demeanor,' Satria in command exuded authority and discipline, making even Rimuru feel a little… inadequate. 'Am I really a leader compared to him?'

But there was no time for doubt. Today was about pushing Tempest forward.

Satria took a deep breath, then spoke, his voice steady and authoritative.

"Today, we forge a new path for Tempest!" His voice carried across the field, silencing the murmurs. "You are strong, each and every one of you. But strength alone does not win wars—strategy and discipline do."

Murmurs of curiosity spread through the troops.

Benimaru, ever the warrior, stepped forward, arms crossed. "And how exactly do we achieve that? We're not humans; we fight with instinct."

Satria smirked, appreciating the challenge. "Instincts are powerful, but they can also lead to recklessness. If you only fight for yourself, you leave your allies vulnerable. A true warrior fights not as one, but as a unit—each action supporting the other."

He motioned for his commanders to step forward, placing them into formations.

Gobta and his wolf riders: Light cavalry, perfect for swift flanking maneuvers.

Benimaru and the Kijin warriors: The vanguard, leading the charge with overwhelming force.

Hakurou and his disciples: An elite strike unit, moving with precision.

Rimuru: : The strategist, overseeing the battle and striking at the enemy's weak points.

Satria's voice rang clear as he drilled them. "Know your role, trust your allies, and strike with purpose. That is how we will win!"

The monsters responded with roaring enthusiasm, their blood ignited by his words.

The training began. Movements that were once wild became calculated. Warriors who once fought separately now moved as one. The battlefield that was once chaotic now resembled a well-oiled machine.

Then came the disturbance.

"HAH! This is a joke, right?! A Human lead us?"

A loud, arrogant voice cut through the field.

From the crowd, a flamboyantly dressed lizardman strutted forward, flanked by a group of overly enthusiastic followers. His sharp green scales shimmered in the sunlight as he puffed out his chest, exuding misplaced confidence.

Satria turned slowly, eyes narrowing.

The lizardman grinned smugly. "You might be some warrior from another world, but allow me to introduce myself! I am Gabiru, the strongest of the lizardmen!"

A chorus of cheers erupted from his subordinates.

"Gabiru!"

"Gabiru-sama!"

"Kick his ass, Gabiru-sama!"

Satria sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Oh, great. A walking joke."

Gabiru, oblivious to the insult, continued his boasting. "I see you've been trying to train these monsters, but true strength comes from natural talent! And I, the mighty Gabiru, am the most talented warrior here!"

Satria raised an eyebrow, then smirked. "Is that so?"

The air in the training grounds grew thick with tension as Satria faced Gabiru, his calm, unshaken presence standing in stark contrast to the lizardman's loud bravado. The gathered monsters watched in anticipation, their eyes darting between the two figures.

Satria exhaled slowly, his gaze unwavering. "Strength is commendable, Kadrun, but it is not the only measure of a warrior. Strategy and discipline are what win battles, not just brute force."

Gabiru's face twitched. "Who do you call Kadrun?!" he snapped, tail lashing in irritation.

(Kadrun = Kadal Gurun = Desert Lizard.)

Satria smirked. "Did I stutter, Kadrun?"

Gabiru scoffed, puffing out his chest. "You think your 'fancy tactics' make you better than me, human? Hah! I've fought plenty of enemies without your so-called strategy, and I won! That's why I'm the best fighter here!"

"Is that so?" Satria replied, raising an eyebrow. "Then let's test that claim." He gestured toward the open training field. "A friendly challenge. Show me your strength, and let's see if it stands against mine."

The lizardman's eyes gleamed. "You're on! I'll show you what real power looks like!"

Off to the side, Fatalis rested her chin on her palm, sighing dramatically. "Ah~ He's already dead. Rimuru-chan, should we start preparing a funeral? Or maybe a nice, cozy grave?"

Rimuru chuckled nervously. "Ha... haha. Satria, please go easy on him, okay? He may be an idiot, but he's still one of my people."

Satria's lips curled into a faint smile, but he didn't reply. Instead, he simply waited.

Gabiru charged.

His movements were quick—agile, even. For a moment, it seemed as if he might actually stand a chance. He lunged forward, claws glowing with mana, ready to strike.

Then—

The air shifted.

A sudden, weighty presence descended upon the field like an approaching storm. The golden hue of Satria's aura flickered into existence, radiating a power unlike anything the monsters of Tempest had ever felt before. It wasn't just raw strength—it was something deeper.

A presence forged through countless battles. A will honed across war-torn worlds.

Gabiru froze mid-step.

A primal chill crept down his spine as reality crashed down upon him.

He wasn't standing before a simple warrior.

He was standing before something far, far greater.

His breath hitched. His heart pounded.

His instincts screamed at him to stop.

The arrogance in Gabiru's expression wavered. The bravado, the smug confidence—it all crumbled under the weight of the presence before him. He took an unconscious step back, his body reacting before his mind could process the fear gripping his chest.

"W-Wait a second..." His voice cracked.

Satria took a single step forward.

Just one.

Yet it felt as if an entire battlefield had moved with him.

"You may be considered strong in your circles, Gabiru," Satria's voice was deep, almost ancient in its weight. "But strength alone does not make a warrior." His gaze bore into Gabiru's soul, stripping him of his delusions. "A true warrior's aura is not just power—it is experience, presence, and the will to dominate."

Gabiru swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the vast chasm between them. "I... I'm not saying I'm weak, but..." He clenched his fists, struggling to find his voice.

Satria continued, his tone shifting from authoritative to instructive. "Remember this, Kadrun."

Gabiru t twitched at the nickname but didn't dare interrupt.

"There is no shame in acknowledging the strength of others. The truly wise warrior understands when to fight and when to learn." Another step forward. Another invisible wave of pressure. "You are not facing a mere opponent today."

His eyes gleamed.

"You are facing the Golden Emperor."

Silence.

The words sank into the earth, echoing across the stunned battlefield.

Gabiru's shoulders slumped slightly. He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to meet Satria's gaze with newfound respect. "I see now... And my name is not Kadrun," he muttered. Then, after a pause, he clenched his jaw and nodded. "You've fought in battles I can't even imagine. I'm not your match... Golden Emperor."

From the sidelines, Rimuru blinked. "Golden... Emperor?"

Fatalis grinned, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Oh, I like that."

The crowd, still processing the overwhelming exchange, erupted into whispers.

"The Golden Emperor..."

"That title suits him."

"Gabiru-sama actually admitted defeat?"

Satria exhaled, the golden aura dissipating as he turned away. "Then train, Kadrun," he said simply, offering Gabiru a final nod before addressing the rest of the troops.

"Let this be the first lesson of the Codex Tempestum—a warrior's greatest weapon is not his strength, but his wisdom."

The council chamber of Tempest was filled with hushed whispers, a mix of awe and excitement rippling through the gathered officials.

"He's like a god," a hobgoblin murmured with wide eyes. "With him leading our armies, there's no enemy we can't defeat."

"He's more than just a warrior," a dwarven blacksmith added, stroking his beard. "He's introduced technologies we've never seen. Our cities will prosper with him on our side. We owe much of our progress to his leadership."

Benimaru, who had grown to deeply respect Satria, nodded thoughtfully. "It's true. He's given us more than just tactics—he's teaching us how to build a nation. Something lasting. Something that will endure beyond any of us."

And before long, the whispers grew.

"If he's done this much already, why not make him our Emperor?"

"Or… our God?"

"AAAAAA—Before we go any further, let me clarify something…" Satria stood up abruptly, his voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade. His golden aura pulsed slightly with frustration. "I am NOT a God!"

A silence fell over the room.

Then—

"Then… Messiah?" one hob-goblin ventured cautiously. "You do worship a god, right? Who is your Supreme One?"

Satria turned away, crossing his arms. "No. I am not the Messiah either."

"But, but—your power, wisdom, and knowledge are beyond anything we have ever witnessed!" Another council member stepped forward, eyes practically sparkling with admiration. "There is no word fit to describe you, my lord!"

Then, from the back of the room—

"Hail the Golden Emperor!"

Satria felt something inside him snap.

"Yes! With Satria-sama as Emperor and Rimuru-sama as Empress, there is nothing to fear in this world!"

"Long live the Golden Emperor! Messiah of the Tempest!"

"Wait… what?"

All eyes turned toward Rimuru, who had frozen mid-sip of his drink. He blinked slowly, trying to process what he had just heard.

Hakurou, who was struggling to keep a straight face, coughed into his fist and added as professionally as possible, "They believe that since you can shift between male and female forms at will, and given your… versatility… you might best represent the nation as an 'Empress'', Rimuru-sama."

"An… Empress?" Rimuru finally managed, his voice a mix of disbelief and horror.

From the side, Fatalis, lounging comfortably next to Great Red and Ophis, let out an amused chuckle. "Well, Rimuru, you do have the power and elegance for it. I think you'd make a beautiful Empress~"

"LONG LIVE THE GOLDEN EMPEROR! OUR MESSIAH!!!"

"WTF is wrong with you people?! Let me repeat one more time—I AM NOT THE MESSIAH!!!" Satria tries his best to deny such a title.

Off to the side, a dark voice echoed inside Satria's head.

'First time?'

Satria's eye twitched.

"Shut it, Darkest! This is bad news!"

Yet, his outburst only fueled the misunderstanding.

"No way… He denied it?" a goblin whispered to his friend.

"I heard from someone that only the true Messiah denies his divinity!"

"…Oh my god…"

"HE'S THE REAL DEAL!"

"WHAT?! Who the hell started this stupid rumor?!" Satria's face darkened. "I'm sending that idiot to isekai with a weird genre right now!"

At this, Fatalis and Great Red suddenly found the ceiling very interesting, whistling innocently as Satria glared at them.

Meanwhile, Rimuru groaned and slapped his hands over his face. "What is even happening right now?!"

Soei, ever the professional, maintained his calm demeanor, though a very faint smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. "The people admire you greatly, Rimuru-sama. They believe this title would enhance your standing even further."

"Ugh… it's probably for the best," Shion sighed, arms crossed.

"Rimuru-sama, cheater!!!"

A wail echoed through the field as Shuna burst into tears and ran from the training ground, unable to accept this reality.

"Shuna-chan!"

Rimuru peeked through his fingers, shooting a desperate look at Satria and his family. "Can someone please help me make sense of this?! Empress?! Really?!"

Satria exhaled deeply. "This is it. This is the moment where my patience dies." Slowly, he turned to Fatalis. "I should've just gone home when I had the chance. This all happened because I listened to you."

From the sidelines, his wife smirked. "Oh? But wasn't it fun?"

"Fun?!" Satria pointed dramatically at the crowd still cheering his name. "These people are trying to make me their God-Emperor!"

"And?"

Satria narrowed his eyes. "Do you want to deal with paperwork? Attending boring meetings? Signing treaties? Negotiating trade agreements?!"

Fatalis's smirk immediately vanished. "…Okay, yeah, good luck."

"Traitors!"

Great Red patted Rimuru o on the back, her smirk barely concealed. "Come on, Rimuru. It's not that bad. Just think of it as… another aspect of your leadership."

Rimuru, still wearing an exaggerated look of pure betrayal, dropped her hands in defeat. "I'm not sure I'm cut out for this 'Empress' business," she muttered, her tone filled with comedic despair.

Satria, rubbing his temples, finally sighed. "Well, Rimuru, you do have both the power and the beauty. Maybe the people see you as someone who embodies strength and grace—like an Empress. I mean… when I first met you, I couldn't tell if you were a guy."

Silence.

Rimuru slowly turned her head toward Satria, face blank, but his eye twitched ever so slightly.

"Satria," he said, voice dangerously calm.

"Yeah?"

"Don't you start too."

Satria held up his hands in mock innocence. "What?! I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking."

"This is all your fault, Baka!" Rimuru l lunged at him, attempting to land a half-hearted slap, only for Satria to casually catch her wrist mid-air.

"Oh? How exactly is this my fault, Nutrijel?" he taunted, smirking as he pinched Rimuru's soft cheek with his free hand.

"Aw! S-Stop it! Don't pull my cheeks so hard!" Rimuru struggled, but Satria showed no mercy.

"This is perhaps your true nature, isn't it?" Rimuru whined. "You loli—"

Satria's grip tightened.

"Sorry! I'm sorry! I'll take it back!" Rimuru f flailed. "Wait—why does it hurt?! I shouldn't be feeling pain! All of this must be a dream!!!"

Satria let go, shaking his head. "What now?"

Rimuru, , now red-faced, looked away awkwardly. "I… I don't know. You started this. Take responsibility!"

Satria squinted at him. "You're talking like I just knocked you up or something. Kerja Bagus!"

Meanwhile, the gathered crowd of monsters and various races whispered among themselves. Their admiration for Satria had only grown after witnessing his effortless handling of their beloved ruler.

"Truly, our Golden Emperor is wise beyond measure."

"Did you see how he just effortlessly put Rimuru-sama in her place?!"

"And look how flustered Rimuru-sama is! Surely, this is fate!"

"With the Golden Emperor and our Divine Empress, Tempest shall thrive like never before!"

Rimuru's eye twitched.

Satria felt his soul leave his body.

"This is getting out of hand…" She mumbled.

Satria sighed deeply. "Yeah, well. Welcome to my life."

To be continued...