Story: NG+

Chapter 3: The Ogre's Curiosity and the Architect's Past

The air, still thick with the scent of battle, hummed with a new tension. The Direwolves had surrendered, their leader Ranga now a loyal companion, but another presence had emerged from the shadows. Six figures, tall and imposing, with skin the color of twilight and horns curving from their brows, stepped into the clearing. Ogres. Rimuru knew their names from his future memories – Benimaru, Shion, Souei, Hakuro, Kurobe, and Shuna – but for now, they were simply "Ogres."

Rimuru observed them with a calm, knowing gaze. Right on schedule. Or perhaps, a little earlier than last time. My subtle nudges must be working. He noted their wary expressions, their hands resting on their weapons, but also a flicker of intrigue in their eyes. They weren't hostile, not yet.

"Who are you?" the lead Ogre, Benimaru, demanded, his voice deep and resonant. His eyes, sharp and intelligent, swept over the hobgoblins, then settled on Rimuru. "And what manner of monster commands such... unusual loyalty from goblins and Direwolves?"

Rimuru rippled slightly, projecting his thoughts. "Greetings, mighty warriors. I am Rimuru. These are my subordinates, and this is our newly forged alliance." He paused, allowing his presence to convey a subtle authority. "And you, I sense, are also in distress. Your village... it has fallen, hasn't it?"

A collective flinch went through the ogres. Benimaru's eyes narrowed, a flash of surprise crossing his face. "How did you know?"

"My senses are keen," Rimuru replied smoothly, a half-truth that Ciel approved of. "I detected the lingering scent of destruction, far more potent than any mere Direwolf pack could cause. It speaks of a greater, more organized threat."

Benimaru hesitated, then sighed, his posture slumping slightly. "You are correct. Our village... it was destroyed by a band of Orcs, led by a particularly cunning and powerful Orc General. They were unlike any Orcs we had encountered before – organized, brutal, and seemingly endless in number. We barely escaped with our lives."

Orcs, already? And an Orc General? That's earlier than I remember the Orc Lord's forces becoming so organized. My timeline shifts are having an impact. Rimuru internally noted. This meant the Orc Disaster was indeed accelerating, making his proactive measures even more crucial.

"We have been scouting since," a female Ogre, Shuna, added, her voice soft but firm, "seeking a new home, a safe haven. We observed your battle against the Direwolves. We expected to find a weak village, easily overrun. Instead..." She trailed off, her gaze lingering on the newly evolved Hobgoblins, who stood taller and more confident than any goblin she'd ever seen, and the newly armed state of the entire goblin force.

"Instead, you witnessed a display of coordinated strength and unexpected leadership," Rimuru finished for her, his mental voice calm. "We offer the same to you. A place within our growing community. Protection, prosperity, and the chance to rebuild and grow stronger."

Benimaru's gaze was piercing. "You offer much, slime. But what do you ask in return? And what makes you believe you can protect us from a force that overwhelmed even our warriors?" His voice held a challenging edge, a clear test of Rimuru's resolve. "We are Ogres. We do not simply bow to any monster, regardless of its apparent strength. Our pride demands more than mere promises."

Rimuru allowed a moment of silence, letting Benimaru's challenge hang in the air. Good. That's the Benimaru I know. Prideful, but pragmatic. "Your pride is commendable," Rimuru addressed, his voice unwavering, carrying a subtle weight that seemed to press down on the clearing. "And I respect it. I ask for your loyalty, your strength, and your wisdom. In return, I offer not just protection, but a future where your pride can truly flourish."

He paused, letting his words sink in, then continued, his mental voice deepening, subtly allowing a fraction more of his true presence to bleed through, just enough to be felt by beings of their caliber. "You ask what makes me believe I can protect you from a force that overwhelmed your warriors? You witnessed a fraction of what we are capable of here today. But know this: the Orc General you speak of, and the army he commands, will be crushed. Not by brute force alone, but by a superior strategy, a unity you have yet to witness, and a power that will ensure victory."

Benimaru's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. He felt it – a faint, yet undeniable, pressure emanating from the unassuming slime. It wasn't raw, destructive power, but something far more profound: an aura of absolute certainty, of inevitable triumph. It was the presence of a being who knew the outcome, not merely hoped for it. Shion, Souei, and Hakuro also stiffened, their senses picking up on the subtle shift in Rimuru's presence.

"My guidance," Rimuru continued, his voice now a quiet, compelling force, "will ensure that your people, and all who join us, will rise to meet any threat. We will not merely survive; we will thrive. We will build a nation where all monsters can live in harmony, free from fear, growing stronger together." He extended a pseudopod towards Benimaru, not as a demand, but as an an invitation. "Join us, and help me build this future. Your strength and wisdom will be invaluable."

The ogres exchanged tense glances. Benimaru's internal struggle was evident. His pride warred with the undeniable truth of their desperate situation and the compelling aura of the slime before him. He saw the genuine promise in Rimuru's eyes, a vision of a future far grander than anything they could achieve alone.

Finally, with a deep breath, Benimaru bowed his head, a gesture of true deference this time. "Very well, Rimuru-sama. Your vision... it is compelling. We accept your offer. We, the surviving Ogres, pledge our loyalty to you."

The others followed suit, their vows echoing through the clearing, now filled with a new sense of purpose and hope. Rimuru felt the familiar, subtle shift as their loyalty solidified. Excellent. The core team is assembling faster this time, and their loyalty is forged in conviction, not just desperation.

Building the Future: Accelerated Growth
Early Mentorship: Forging Future Pillars

With the ogres now integrated, the immediate need was to prepare for the looming Orc Disaster. Rimuru surveyed his growing populace. The goblins and Direwolves were evolving, but their equipment, despite the recent lessons, still had room for vast improvement.

"Now, my friends," Rimuru addressed the gathered goblins and newly arrived ogres. "We will begin the accelerated construction of a more robust settlement. And we will continue to refine your armaments." He didn't just tell them what to build; he provided Ciel-generated schematics that were simple enough for them to follow, yet incredibly efficient.

"We will construct proper dwellings, a communal hall, and a defensive perimeter," Rimuru addressed. "Utilize the strongest timber from the forest, and the stone from the nearby cliffs. Work together, and you will see results far beyond your expectations."

The goblins, now eager and motivated, worked tirelessly alongside the more powerful ogres. Under Rimuru's constant, subtle oversight, the village transformed at an astonishing pace. What would have taken weeks in the original timeline was completed in mere days. The ogre blacksmith, Kurobe, found himself constantly learning from Rimuru's (Ciel's) seemingly endless well of knowledge, his own innate talent for crafting ignited by the otherworldly insights into metallurgy and design.

Rimuru dedicated significant time to his "Ultimate Mentor" role. He observed the ogres' combat styles, their magical affinities, and their leadership qualities.

"Ogre warrior," Rimuru addressed one afternoon, as the young leader practiced his flame magic. "Your control is impressive, but your output could be more efficient. Focus not just on raw power, but on precision. Imagine your flames as an extension of your will, shaping and bending to your command." Rimuru then subtly adjusted the flow of magicules around the ogre, a tiny, undetectable nudge from Ciel that allowed him to achieve a breakthrough he wouldn't have managed for months. The ogre's eyes widened as his flames danced with newfound control.

Meanwhile, Rimuru approached the stoic swordsman. "Your swordsmanship is truly masterful," he addressed. "However," he continued, allowing [Universal Perception] to give him a perfect, multidimensional view of the swordsman's form, "your stance, while powerful, leaves a one-millimeter gap in your defense. Your final thrust, while devastating, wastes a fraction of a second in the transition. I can show you how to eliminate this inefficiency and increase your speed by a fraction that will matter in a true life-or-death battle."

The swordsman, Hakuro, stared in disbelief. His own master had never seen such a flaw. He swung his blade, a flicker of doubt in his eyes, then turned his intense gaze on Rimuru. "You speak with the confidence of a true master," he stated, his voice a low rumble. "But you are a slime. You have no form for a sword. How can you, who have never held a blade, presume to teach a swordsman of my caliber?"

This was the moment. Rimuru didn't have to hold a sword to prove his point; he had to demonstrate an impossible level of analytical insight. "You are right," Rimuru addressed, his voice calm and firm. "I cannot hold a blade. But I have seen countless forms, countless techniques, across dimensions you can't even imagine. Before I was a slime, I was a human from another world. My death brought me here. My knowledge comes not from a lifetime of practice, but from a life of observation. I can see the flaws in your form because I have seen every form. I am the culmination of a world's knowledge, reborn."

Hakuro was stunned into silence. The goblins had heard a similar story, but hearing it from Rimuru directly, delivered with such an unwavering presence, was a completely different experience. Rimuru's words resonated with an unnerving truth. His critique wasn't just a suggestion; it was a revelation that completely changed Hakuro's understanding of his own art.

He then sought out the stealthy ogre. "Your camouflage is impressive," Rimuru addressed, "but your flow of magicules, though minimal, still creates a faint ripple in the ambient magicule density. It would be detectable by a sufficiently powerful foe from a great distance. Focus on dampening your magical signature entirely, rather than just masking your physical form." The ogre, Souei, who prided himself on his stealth, was shocked. He had never considered this possibility. Rimuru's critique was a revelation that completely changed his understanding of his own art.

Rimuru didn't fight alongside them, nor did he overtly display his sealed power. Instead, he offered insights, posed challenges, and provided the perfect environment for their growth. His presence alone, the sheer depth of his knowledge and the calm confidence with which he imparted it, inspired them to push beyond their limits. They saw him not just as a leader, but as a living legend, a source of infinite wisdom.

The ogres, now fully committed to Rimuru, felt a surge of pride. They had witnessed his strategic brilliance, his unexpected past, and his ability to uplift even the weakest. Tempest was no longer just a goblin village; it was a burgeoning nation, guided by an enlightened architect, rapidly becoming a formidable power in the Great Forest of Jura.

The pieces are falling into place beautifully, Rimuru thought, a deep satisfaction settling within him. The foundation is strong. Now, let's see what else we can build.