Story: NG+

Chapter 9: The Birth of a Kingdom




The celebration was a boisterous affair, but the underlying tension remained. Rimuru had saved the Great Forest of Jura, uniting former enemies in a single, decisive stroke. Now, the surviving leaders—the Lizardmen chieftain, his humbled son Gabiru, the goblin elder Rigurd, the hobgoblin commander Gobta, the ogres, and the mighty Tempest Star Wolves—all gathered in the heart of the newly peaceful swamp. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of gratitude, reverence, and unspoken questions.

Rimuru, his formidable aura now calmed, sat upon a makeshift throne of mud and swamp flora, a position of power he had never asked for, yet one he had earned.

A soft, ethereal voice drifted through the clearing. "It seems the storm has passed. The Orc Disaster has been quelled."

From the depths of the forest, a beautiful dryad emerged, her form crafted from twisting vines and glowing flowers. It was Treyni, a high-level spiritual lifeform and a guardian of the Great Forest of Jura. She regarded Rimuru with an intensity that seemed to pierce his very being. Her presence commanded the respect of every monster present.

"On behalf of the Great Forest of Jura, I extend our sincerest gratitude to you, Rimuru-sama," Treyni said, her voice like the rustle of leaves. "You have achieved what no one thought possible. You have united the warring factions and brought an end to a calamity. For this, we, the inhabitants of this forest, are in your debt."

The Lizardmen chieftain stepped forward, bowing low. "It is true, Rimuru-sama. You are a true king of monsters, and you are the only one worthy of leading us."

Gabiru, his arrogance now replaced by humility, bowed his head deeply. "I, too, agree. Forgive my past insolence. You have shown us what true power and wisdom look like."

Rigurd, the goblin elder, spoke for his people, his voice filled with reverence. "We, the hobgoblins and our goblin kin, have already pledged our loyalty to you, Rimuru-sama. We will follow you to the ends of the world."

The ogre leader, his gaze steady and filled with conviction, knelt. "My kind, the ogres, have seen your power. We have been reborn by your guidance. We offer you our unwavering loyalty and strength. Your word is our command, our king." The other ogres knelt in silent, absolute agreement.

Rimuru rippled gently, his voice carrying an unexpected weight. "I accept your loyalty. But I must ask you this, ogre leader... You came to me consumed by vengeance, with the sole purpose of destroying the Orcs. Now you offer me your unwavering loyalty. Tell me, what has changed?"

Benimaru, his gaze firm, rose slightly. "We came to you as desperate monsters, seeking a powerful ally to aid in our vengeance. But you did not simply point us at our enemy. You taught us. You showed us the true potential of our strength, not as a wild, destructive force, but as a controlled, purposeful power. In this battle, we learned that our true growth came not from our hatred, but from your guidance. We pledge our loyalty not as a temporary alliance, but as your chosen warriors, reborn under your vision." The other ogres nodded in solemn agreement, their eyes reflecting the same profound conviction.

Treyni watched the scene with a knowing look. This was no mere monster; this was a force of change. She smiled faintly and spoke again. "It is clear. The will of the forest is in agreement. Rimuru-sama, we, the guardians of the forest, wish to bestow upon you the title of Chancellor of the Great Forest of Jura. With this title, you will have the authority to lead us all and ensure our prosperity."

A ripple of approval passed through the assembled monsters. The title of Chancellor was a powerful one, a sign of Rimuru's newfound status and authority over the entire region. But Rimuru, with Ciel's perfect analysis and foresight, knew better.

He rippled gently, his form glowing slightly. His voice, a soothing but firm tone that held the quiet authority of a true leader, filled the air. "Thank you, Treyni-san. Thank you, everyone. I am grateful for your trust, and I understand your intentions." He paused, letting his words sink in. "However, I must politely refuse the title of Chancellor."

A collective gasp broke the silence. The monsters looked at each other in confusion. He had saved them, and now he was refusing the position of power they were offering? Even Treyni's calm expression wavered for a moment.

"I will not be a Chancellor," Rimuru declared, his voice gaining a deeper resonance. "I will not be a leader who merely manages a collection of factions. My vision is not to govern the forest. My vision is to build something far greater. I will not merely unite monsters; I will create a nation where all races can live and thrive together, regardless of their species. A nation built on trust, cooperation, and law. A nation that will serve as a beacon of hope and a center of prosperity for the entire world."

His form seemed to grow slightly, not in size, but in presence. The power he was projecting was not aggressive, but a force of absolute will and conviction.

"I will build an empire," he announced, his voice echoing with the quiet certainty of a monarch. "A kingdom, a nation that will rival any human kingdom. And I will not be its Chancellor. I will be its King."

The words hung in the air, a statement of audacious ambition that shook the very foundation of the old power structure.

"This land, the Great Forest of Jura, will be the heart of my nation," he continued. "And my nation's name will be... the Jura Tempest Federation."

The monsters, from the smallest goblin to the most powerful ogre, stood in stunned silence. They had expected a leader, a protector, but Rimuru had just declared himself a founder, a king. He was not here to simply save them; he was here to remake their world.

Treyni's eyes widened, a look of profound astonishment and respect on her face. A single tear of magical essence rolled down her cheek, and her form shimmered with a profound emotion. She had been tasked with observing the forest, but what she was witnessing was the dawn of a new era. This was the destiny of the forest, the birth of a nation far beyond what she or any of her kind had imagined. This was not a monster; this was a true Creator.

She knelt, her knees touching the ground. "Rimuru-sama... no, my King," she whispered, her voice filled with an overwhelming sense of devotion. "You are truly worthy. I, the Dryad Treyni, and all the spirits of the Great Forest of Jura, pledge our loyalty to you. May the Jura Tempest Federation prosper forever under your rule."

The monsters echoed her pledge, their voices a chorus of reverence. But as they did, Rimuru looked past them, towards the still-bewildered mass of defeated Orcs. He saw not a defeated enemy, but a people lost, their will shattered, their very existence a curse they had not chosen.

Rimuru now looked to his new allies. "My people, listen," he said, his voice imbued with the gentle yet unyielding compassion of a king. "I understand your confusion, especially after all you have suffered. But the Orc Disaster was not an act of malice. The Orcs were driven by a curse, a madness born from a desperate situation." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the gathered monsters, letting his words sink in. "My senses, and my unique knowledge of this world, have shown me the truth. A terrible drought had ravaged their homeland, and they were starving. The famine pushed them to the brink, and in their desperation, they were easy prey for a cunning villain who gave them the curse of the Orc Disaster. They did not choose to devour everything; they were forced to."

He then looked to Benimaru, whose face still held a flicker of doubt. "Their actions were born from desperation, not evil. And now, they are free of that curse, and they are lost. But they are a people of immense strength and a powerful constitution. Their bodies are made for labor. My vision is not to simply forgive them; it is to use their strength to build our nation. We will teach them to farm, to fish, and to construct. With their labor, we can build a kingdom of immense prosperity, one that will never again suffer from famine or want. They will not be our prisoners; they will be our citizens, our builders, our partners in forging a new world."

Rimuru's words hung in the air, a final, definitive statement. The Orcs, a broken mass of thousands, who had been listening with vacant, bewildered expressions, finally began to stir. They looked at each other, their eyes, once filled with the madness of the curse, now holding a fragile, dawning comprehension. A few of the older Orcs, those who remembered a time before the famine, began to weep, quiet sobs of relief that shook their massive frames. They had been freed, not just from the disaster's influence, but from their own desperate actions. The Orc General, whose mind was now cleared of the curse, crawled forward, his body still trembling. He knelt before Rimuru, not out of fear, but with a profound, overwhelming sense of gratitude. "My king... you have shown us mercy we did not deserve," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You have freed our souls. But our sins... the terrible things we did... are not so easily washed away. How can we ever be worthy of your forgiveness?"

Rimuru's aura, which had been gentle, now took on a new quality: an unyielding, comforting warmth. He looked down at the kneeling Orc General, and his voice, though soft, carried the weight of an unshakeable promise. "Your sins have already been taken from you. I consumed the original Orc Lord's soul, the one you knew as Geld, and with it, I absorbed all of the pain and suffering he caused. I have taken the curse of the Orc Disaster upon myself. I consumed the orc lord's soul along side your sins as i promised to him. The collective burden of your people's actions has been purged."

The Orc General's eyes widened, a fresh wave of tears flowing down his face. He had offered his service, but Rimuru had already given everything. He looked at the other Orcs, their faces now mirroring his own shock and dawning realization. This was not a king who forgave; this was a king who bore their suffering for them. "We... we have no words," he choked out. "We will serve you until the end of time, with every fiber of our being. We will be your swords, your builders, your citizens... whatever you command."

The statement was so profound, so utterly alien to their way of life, that it silenced the entire clearing once more. The ogres, who had just been celebrating their vengeance, stared in disbelief. Rimuru, however, simply held his gaze, his conviction unshakable. The birth of a nation was not just a name; it was a philosophy. And this was the first pillar of its creed.