A flash of bright light covered the area where Rimuru and Ifrit were fighting, then suddenly vanished.
All that was left was a lone old woman and me.
Was this a dream?
My mother's hand, cold.
Her cold eyes, gazing at me.
A warm smile and a pile of pure white ash.
All these memories did was torment me. I didn't want to remember them—the sharp sting of loss, the hollow ache that never fully faded, like a wound reopened with every quiet moment. They clawed at my heart, reminding me of the fragility of life, the cruelty of war, and how one summoned child's innocence could shatter into irreparable fragments. Why did these ghosts persist? Was it punishment for surviving when so many didn't?
But that was the path I walked.
If I hadn't run into the hero, I doubt my soul could ever have been saved… But I was too awkward, too unskilled, to wind up like her. With so many people relying on me, too… I often wondered if I deserved that salvation—her gentle strength, her unwavering light, had pulled me from the abyss, yet I carried the shadows still. Guilt weighed on me, a quiet whisper asking if I had truly honored her gift, or if I was just a vessel for more destruction.
It was just that—
It had been several years since I'd retired from the adventurer life. I was a full-fledged teacher, leading the next generation of our trade as I helped out the society with its work. Those days brought a fragile sense of purpose, a way to atone by shaping others, but beneath it lurked a profound loneliness, an isolation born from secrets I could never fully share. Teaching was my anchor, yet it stirred echoes of my own lost youth, making me question if I was guiding them or merely projecting my unresolved pains.
The Society of Adventurers, a group that crossed borders and had grown beyond the control of any single government, had built its headquarters in the kingdom of Englesia. I was no longer an adventurer, but if there was anything I could do for them, I wanted to help them with it. It had been the society, after all, that had given me a home of sorts when I had nowhere else to go—a fragile sanctuary amid my wandering, where I could pretend to belong, even as Ifrit's flames simmered within, a constant reminder of my otherness.
There, I had a chance to teach a number of talented students. A young man with eyes that beamed with complete purity. A girl, her gaze tinged with hopelessness. More otherworlders, I assumed, just like me. Seeing them stirred a deep well of empathy; their displaced souls mirrored my own, evoking a maternal protectiveness I hadn't known I possessed. Yet it hurt, too—reminding me of the family I'd lost, the normal life stolen from me.
The two of them were exact opposites in so many ways. Yuuki was a bright, optimistic boy, while Hinata was insular and reserved, as if she carried all the darkness in the world with her. Yuuki's laughter eased my burdens, a ray of hope in my shadowed existence, but Hinata... she pierced my heart with her silent struggles, forcing me to confront the parts of myself I'd buried.
I saw a bit of myself in the girl, after all. I had an affinity for her. It was apparently one-sided. The connection felt visceral, like looking into a mirror of my younger, more broken self—her guarded eyes reflecting the same wariness I'd once worn. Yet she pushed me away, and that rejection stung, a fresh layer of regret atop old wounds.
"Thank you for everything you've taught me," she said. "There is nothing else I can learn from you. I doubt we will meet again." Then she turned around and left.
I thought it might have been best to chase after her, but I couldn't will myself to leave town. The society was building a new shared-assistance program with Englesia, a new organizational structure originally proposed by Yuuki. As a former hero, I was put in the position of representing the society in the requisite negotiations. It was something I wanted to see succeed, considering how it would define the society's future direction. But in my quieter moments, I replayed that farewell, wondering if my hesitation was cowardice—if reaching out could have bridged the chasm between us, sparing her the isolation I knew too well.
So in the end, all I could do was see her off. "If you ever get lost," I called to her, "I want you to rely on me."
After agonizing over it, I decided to support Yuuki over Hinata. The girl had walked a similar path to mine, but she was always far more strong-willed than I was. I figured that I should believe in her. That her iron will could clear the darkness in her soul and transform her into a great woman. Yet doubt gnawed at me: Had I abandoned her? Was my faith in her strength just an excuse to avoid my own inadequacies as a mentor?
It was no great surprise when I learned, a mere few years later, that she had risen to an important position in the Church. I felt a little proud, a little lonely…and just a tad anxious. Pride for her achievements warmed me briefly, but the loneliness cut deeper—a reminder of connections severed, of what might have been if I'd been braver. And the anxiety? It lingered like a shadow, fearing she might face the same torments I had, alone.
Hinata isn't feeling lonesome, is she? Is she doing all right with her life?
The questions overwhelmed me, but I figured I had no right to ask them. I once had the chance to grasp her hand, and I had refused it. That regret festered, a quiet sorrow that colored my days, making me yearn for redemption I wasn't sure I deserved.
All I could do was pray for Hinata's continued safety.
Yuuki, on the other hand, was far more dynamic.
It was Yuuki who built the current system for the Society of Adventurers, now renamed the Free Guild. Thanks to him, the guild was able to build a successful cooperative relationship with nations across the world. He had forged new treaties with governments, earning the guild positions in their topmost of councils. His efforts had made the organization more powerful than ever. Watching him thrive filled me with a vicarious joy, a sense of accomplishment that eased my inner turmoil, as if his successes were a balm for my failures.
I should have expected nothing less. Until then, every nation had been focused solely on protecting its own borders. When the Free Guild began taking on monster-dispatch duties, it lightened the loads of every other government in the world. And that wasn't all. Adventurers—people who traveled the world, never beholden to any single country—were obligated to file reports on their journeys. The Free Guild then collated these reports to gain a grasp of how monsters were distributed worldwide. Danger levels were assigned to every region, allowing people to travel in relative peace.
For someone charged with training new recruits, nothing could have made me happier. Thanks to Yuuki, the Free Guild was now an organization that neither the nations of the world nor its people could do without. It gave me hope—that perhaps, through him, I'd contributed to a safer world, offsetting the destruction I'd once wrought.
Yuuki, for his part, just laughed it off. "I was just imitating what I saw in this video game I played," he said. "Though, of course, you can do anything you want in a game. You can have monsters that say, 'I'm not a bad slime, you know'…or even have them join your party!"
He was always a joker like that. Monsters becoming your friends? That sort of thing could happen only in your dreams. His lightheartedness lifted my spirits, a rare respite from the heaviness I carried.
I continued to serve as a support for Yuuki after that—advising him from the rear, never appearing in the forefront. The Free Guild continued to grow and became an outfit used by nearly everyone. It embraced a philosophy of rescuing the weak, accessible to everyone equally.
Then Yuuki, my very own student, became the guild's grand master, its highest position, the one who organized and oversaw the guild masters of each branch. Given everything he had done for them, I should have expected it. His efforts were the catalyst that allowed people to live at peace for a change. He had done everything he needed to. I felt the satisfaction of a job well done, mingled with a poignant farewell to that chapter of my life.
So I decided, then, to go on a journey. A journey to take care of some regrets. The decision brought a mix of resolve and melancholy—facing my end, seeking closure, but knowing it might come too late.
I kept having dreams of the past, back when I was still a magic-born. It was getting hard to contain Ifrit's will. Perhaps I was approaching the end of my natural life. I knew my Mask of Magic Resistance was still working as well as ever, so the reason seemed obvious. The dreams haunted me, stirring terror and resignation; Ifrit's presence was a constant fire in my veins, a reminder of my cursed existence, filling me with dread for what I might unleash.
Once I realized that, I concluded that I had best leave town as soon as possible. I couldn't know when Ifrit would finally fall out of control, and I had no idea how my death would affect Ifrit himself. The uncertainty gnawed at me, a deep-seated fear of causing more harm, even in my final moments.
Plus, I wanted to retaliate against my demon lord. Just once, I wanted to have my say with him. That desire burned with a quiet rage, a longing for justice that had simmered for decades, fueling my steps despite the exhaustion.
So I decided to set off on my journey.
When I told Yuuki about my plans, he silently nodded, saying nothing about them. Hopefully he was willing to forgive this one final act of selfishness. Maybe, I thought to myself, this is how the hero felt, too. His silence touched me, a wordless understanding that brought a tear to my eye—gratitude for his acceptance, sorrow for leaving him behind.
I managed to run into the expedition Heinz mentioned to me. It consisted of three adventurers, and as he'd told me, they were a bright, inviting group. I genuinely appreciated joining such kind people for my last journey, though their excessive carelessness did baffle me. Their camaraderie warmed my weary heart, a fleeting comfort amid my solitude.
There was, to say the least, a lot of trouble along our way through the Forest of Jura. I was impressed, in a way, that they had attained a ranking of B at all. They had the battle technique such a rank implied, but if I had to sum up everything about their team in a word, it would be "nonsensical."
Our journey continued on nonetheless, right up until they jammed a sword into a giant ant nest. I was horrified. This happened not a moment after I told them it was a bad idea, too. Never in my life did I imagine they would try something like that. The chaos evoked a mix of exasperation and amusement, a rare lightheartedness in my darkening days.
My flames could've torched those giant ants instantly, I imagine. But by the time I realized how hard it was to control my power, I had already started to feel my body deteriorate. It remained physically young thanks to Ifrit's presence, but as my power over him dwindled, it rapidly began aging. Or, I suppose I should say it went back to the age it should always have been. The transformation filled me with a profound sadness—watching my youth slip away, a physical echo of my life's fleeting nature.
Would Ifrit be released once my body gave in? Or would he crumble and fall apart with me? I would have no idea what would happen until it did. That was why I had set off. The unknown terrified me, a deep fear of legacy—of what monster I might leave behind.
And why I hesitated to pull out my fire.
We were lucky to be saved by a mysterious goblin.
Being saved by a monster? Nothing like that had ever happened to me before. The irony struck me deeply—a life defined by fighting monsters, now rescued by one. It stirred confusion and a tentative hope: perhaps the world was more nuanced than I'd believed.
This was a hobgoblin holding a unique-grade weapon. It would have been one thing if he understood a few broken words of human speech, but he was an intelligent creature. This was absolutely the kind of "suspicious event" this adventuring trio had been sent out to investigate, I thought.
My destination, meanwhile, was the castle of the demon lord Leon. His domain occupied the lands just beyond the forest. I should have chosen that moment to take my leave of their party. But…I don't know. I suppose I just wanted to see, along with these adventurers, what kind of home these monsters had made for themselves. I was also curious about the little goblin who almost risked his life for me. That curiosity tugged at my heart, a spark of wonder in my fading light.
It was a strange place indeed, this town our rescuers lived in. It was no dank lair or stinking, filthy den. A "town" was the only way to describe it.
The shock I felt was beyond comprehension. This wasn't some rude shelter, some glorified hole in a mountain. It was a proper town, one they had built for themselves from scratch. The sight filled me with awe and a touch of envy—a community thriving where I had expected savagery, mirroring my own longing for belonging.
It was under construction, I should probably add. It had been surveyed and laid out, and building materials had been placed in each section, ready to be converted into houses. There were no buildings yet; the monsters were still living out of neat rows of tents. But they had even started their work by focusing on the underground infrastructure. I had never heard of anything like it on this planet.
It was a bizarre settlement.
But it was bursting with energy. The residents, despite being monsters, truly seemed to enjoy working on it. Most of them were hobgoblins, but they seemed to share their lands with the black direwolves. A tad different from the ones I was familiar with, and I didn't think it was my imagination.
The little goblin introduced us to a slime who lay back in his lofty throne, acting as if he were king of the world. It might be odd to say a slime could "lie back" on anything, perhaps, but that really was the sense he exuded.
This slime was the strangest thing of all—for he, in fact, was the leader of all these monsters.
It was hilarious.
I couldn't help but do a spit take as he spoke. "I'm not a bad slime" was how he chose to describe himself! Just like Yuuki's "video game." I began to wonder whether it was a coincidence. The whimsy of it brought a genuine smile to my face, a rare burst of joy amid my introspection.
Still, there was something inviting about the space this slime created. The strange creature somehow made me recall memories of my own hometown—a nostalgic ache, sweet and painful, for a place long gone.
I also decided to help the goblin that rescued me with his sword training. There was something oddly familiar about him—Gobta, as he called himself. His eager, wide-eyed enthusiasm reminded me of the young recruits I'd trained back at the guild, full of raw potential but unpolished edges. He was small, clumsy, with that purple hair flopping around like a distracted puppy, and yet his determination stirred a quiet echo in me, like seeing a flicker of my younger self, lost and fighting against the odds. Training him evoked a tender warmth, a chance to nurture without the stakes of my past students' fates weighing on me. I didn't have high hopes at first; he was a goblin, after all, with no fundamentals—no proper stance, no sense of timing, just wild swings that telegraphed every move. I figured a few sessions would be enough to teach him basics before I moved on, nothing more than a polite repayment for his bravery in saving us. A small act of kindness to ease my conscience.
But as the days passed, I was shocked by his growth. What started as stumbling footwork turned into instinctive dodges, his reactions sharpening with each spar like he was absorbing my lessons through sheer willpower. By the third day, he was blocking strikes I hadn't held back on, his eyes focused in a way that sent a chill through me—not fear, but genuine surprise. 'How is this possible?' I thought, a mix of astonishment and quiet delight swelling in my chest. It was as if the training unlocked something innate in him, a hidden genius blooming under pressure. Pride swelled in my chest, mixed with a bittersweet ache; he reminded me of Hinata's unyielding resolve, but with a warmth she never showed. Training him felt like a small redemption, a chance to guide someone without the weight of my past failures hanging over it. For the first time in years, I felt a spark of joy in teaching, wondering if this little goblin could surpass even my expectations. It made me reflect on my own journey—how far I'd come, yet how much I'd lost—and stirred a gentle hope that perhaps, in these final days, I could leave a positive mark.
The hours we spent enjoying ourselves came to a sudden halt. My life was about to expire. I had yet to reach my destination—to fulfill my goal—but here it was. The realization crashed over me like a wave, a profound sorrow for unfinished business, mingled with an unexpected peace from these stolen moments of connection.
Ifrit had been waiting for this moment. I could feel his will taking over mine. It's happening… I'm going to ruin all of this, too… Despair gripped me, a crushing fear of destroying this fragile haven, of betraying the kindness I'd found.
If only, one last time, I could just—
The giant manifested himself, all but laughing at my folly.
My consciousness faded away.
My heart felt full. Now I was glad I'd decided to step away from my intended path. This meeting, I thought, was
fate at work. And yet— the fullness was tinged with regret, a longing for more time, for resolutions unachieved.
......
...
"Hey, what's the deal with this?" Eren asked, flexing her fingers experimentally as she stared at her unmarred skin. She turned to Gobta, who had just handed over the last of the healing potions with a grin. "I don't see any burn scars or anything… Like, my skin's as soft and shiny as a baby's!"
"Dang," Kabal added, rolling his shoulder and wincing only slightly before realizing the pain was gone. He sat up straighter on the scorched grass, his armor still smoking faintly from the explosion. "I didn't think I'd be able to move for another week or so, too."
Gobta let out a hearty laugh, his purple hair disheveled and his small frame covered in soot, but his eyes sparkled with relief. "Well, this is made by Rimuru-sama!" he said, puffing out his chest proudly. The potion's effects had worked wonders on him too—his minor scrapes from the fight vanishing like they'd never been there.
"Yeah, count me surprised. That's some potion he had there!" Gido nodded, leaning against a nearby tree stump, his usual slouch returning as he tested his legs. The group was scattered in the clearing's aftermath, the air still thick with the smell of charred earth and dissipated flames. The goblin village loomed in the background, its tents miraculously spared from the worst of the blaze, thanks to Rigurd's quick evacuation.
They were right. That potion had made all of them good as new—the burns from the salamander's explosion fading into nothing, muscles knitting back together with an almost magical efficiency. Eren poked at her arm again, half-expecting the pain to return, but it didn't.
"You know, though… This probably means they'll turn down our request for hazard pay, doesn't it?" Eren moaned, crossing her arms with a dramatic sigh.
"Yep. Nobody's gonna believe us…," Kabal replied, shaking his head with a wry smile. "We'll show up back at the guild looking fresh as daisies, and they'll think we just took a nap in the woods."
"Yeah, I s'pose so. Beats bein' laid up for good, though!" Gido commented, his voice gruff but laced with genuine gratitude. "Though, if I have to explain one more time how a slime boss and a hobgoblin saved our hides, I might just retire to farming potatoes."
"Yeah, you shouldn't complain about being safe, Eren-chan," Gobta said casually, still chuckling as he plopped down on the grass beside them, his kodachi resting across his knees.
The group fell silent for a beat, then Kabal's eyes narrowed with a teasing glint. "Hey, hey, when did you start calling her 'chan'?" he asked, his tone dripping with mock suspicion, elbowing Gido lightly. "Sounds awfully friendly for a goblin who just met us."
"Yeah, he was protecting her too and left us to get burned down by those damned salamanders," Gido chimed in, joining the ribbing with a smirk.
Gobta's face flushed, his round eyes widening in surprise. "W-what? No, it's not like that! I just... she was the one who could actually hurt those things!?" He scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously to deflect.
Eren, meanwhile, hid a small smile behind her hand, her earlier blush returning faintly. "Oh, come on, guys, lay off him. He did save our butts." She shot Gobta a wink, then turned to Kabal and Gido with feigned innocence.
......
.....
A week had passed since the chaotic battle with Ifrit, a tense period where the goblin village held its breath, tending to the frail form of Shizu as she lay in a deep, unnatural slumber. Rimuru, ever vigilant, had monitored her closely, his slime body jiggling with worry despite his outward calm. Now, as faint signs of stirring rippled through her, he gathered Gobta and the three adventurers—Eren, Kabal, and Gido—to her bedside in a quiet tent, the air thick with the scent of herbal remedies and lingering smoke from the fight.
Shizu's eyes fluttered open, her once-youthful features now etched with the deep lines of age, her body frail and withered beneath the blankets. She blinked slowly, taking in the faces around her, and a soft, regretful smile touched her lips.
"Is this…? Oh. I…apologize."
Despite the transformation—the possession by Ifrit and the rampage that followed—she retained all her memories, the weight of them pressing down on her like an invisible burden. Gobta felt a sharp pang in his chest, a heartache watching this strong woman reduced to a fragile old lady lying on the bed. Her voice was weak, her breaths shallow, but she was alive. That spark of life filled him with quiet happiness, a relief that battled the sorrow twisting in his gut. 'Shizu-san... she's still here,' he thought, his round eyes misting over.
"I was dreaming," Shizu said, her voice a fragile whisper that cut through the silence. "Dreaming about the past. The city I lived in… A place I can never return to."
With her weak, fragile voice, Shizu continued to speak about what she had dreamt. It was a glimpse of her life, poured out in halting words: how she had been summoned as a child by a demon lord from her world, thrust into this one amid flames and confusion; how he had abandoned her, leaving her a vessel for the fire spirit Ifrit, cursed and alone; how she had wandered, feared and reviled, until she met the hero who saved her soul and gave her purpose. She spoke of her years as an adventurer, her retirement to teaching, the students she had guided, and the regrets that lingered like shadows.
Nobody interrupted her as she spoke, the group hanging on every word in respectful silence. Rimuru jiggled slightly, absorbing it all; the adventurers exchanged somber glances; Gobta fidgeted, his small hands clenched, moved by the raw vulnerability in her tale.
Finally, Shizu's gaze shifted to the three adventurers, her eyes softening with a mix of fondness and concern. "I am glad that my last journey was with someone like you guys," she spoke quietly, her voice trembling but warm. "Please be careful and prepared when you're adventuring... and don't be reckless."
The three of them teared up, Eren wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, Kabal clearing his throat gruffly to hide his emotion, and Gido nodding silently, his slouch deepening as if to shield himself from the moment's weight.
Shizu then looked at Gobta, her expression turning tender, almost maternal. "Gobta, I am glad I was able to have someone like you as my student. You've grown so much in such a short time—your spirit, your skill... it reminds me of the best parts of those I've taught before. You've got a fire in you, but not the kind that destroys; the kind that builds and protects. I'm proud of you."
Gobta's heart swelled, a rush of emotions crashing over him—gratitude, sorrow, and a fierce determination. Tears welled in his eyes, spilling over as he sniffed, his small frame trembling. 'Shizu-san... she really thinks that about me? After everything, she's proud?' The words hit him like a warm embrace, filling the void of his usual clumsiness with a profound sense of worth. He wanted to say something profound, but all he managed was a choked, "Th-thank you, Shizu-san... I won't let you down!"
Shizu smiled faintly, then told Gobta about her other students, her voice gaining a nostalgic lilt despite its weakness. She spoke of Yuuki, the optimistic boy who had risen to lead the Free Guild, and Hinata, the reserved girl with a gaze full of shadows. "With your talent with swords, I am sure you will cross paths with some of them. Especially Hinata—she is a bit reckless and quick to judge. But once you get to know her, you guys will hit it off very well."
Shizu said as she imagined Hinata standing beside Gobta, the vision bringing a soft, wistful glow to her eyes. He wiped his eyes furiously, nodding vigorously. "I-I'll remember that, Shizu-san. If I meet her, I'll... I'll tell her about you!"
Then Shizu tried to look at Rimuru, who was sitting beside her head. "Listen, slime…or I should say Satoru, I suppose. I have a request for you. Would you mind listening to it?"
"What kind of request?" Rimuru asked, his voice steady but laced with concern.
Nothing particularly doable, he was sure. But he did promise to take care of her to the end. She deserved to be heard out.
"I want you to eat me…"
The room froze in stunned silence, the weight of her words hanging like a storm cloud. Eren's eyes widened in pure horror, tears instantly springing forth as her hand flew to her mouth, muffling a sob. "W-what? No... that's... that's not right! You can't mean that—please, Shizu-san, don't say such things!" Her voice broke, her body shaking as the absurdity and finality hit her, memories of their journey flashing through her mind, making the request feel like a cruel twist.
Kabal's face drained of color, his usual bravado shattering as he leaned forward, eyes glistening with unshed tears, his voice a hoarse whisper laced with desperation. "Hold on, lady... Shizu... you can't be serious! We've just... you've just come back to us! There has to be another way!" He rubbed his face roughly, fighting back the lump in his throat, the man who charged into battles now reduced to pleading, his heart aching at the thought of losing her so grotesquely.
Gido, ever the stoic one, recoiled as if struck, his slouch vanishing as he sat bolt upright, his eyes wide and shimmering with rare vulnerability. "Shizu... why? We... we owe you our lives. Don't ask this—it's too much. Please..." His hands clenched into fists, the quiet adventurer's composure crumbling under the emotional weight, a deep sorrow welling up for the woman who'd become an unexpected mentor in their short time together.
Gobta's jaw dropped, horror and confusion twisting his features into a mask of anguish, fresh tears streaming down his face as he shook his head vehemently. "Sh-Shizu-san? But... why? That's not... you can't!" His voice shattered into sobs, the idea repulsive and heartbreaking, clashing violently with the respect and affection he held for her. He reached out a trembling hand toward her bed, his small body wracked with grief. The pain in his chest was unbearable, a mix of denial and helpless love for the woman who'd believed in him.
"You consumed the curse…that was placed on me, did you not…? I'm so glad to be rid of it…" Her voice grew quiet. "I wish I had the chance—I doubt I could've ever done it, but I wish I could've had the chance to confront the person who placed it on me, one more time… So I have just one request for you—would you let me sleep inside you?"
Something about her eyes, the resolve that she just couldn't relinquish, grabbed at everyone. It seemed so absurd, so cruel…
"I have to tell you—I have nothing but spite for this world. But I couldn't bring myself to hate it, still. It's the same as how I feel toward that man… Perhaps I can't help but think of him when I look around me. That's why I… I don't want to be taken into the earth here. So please… I was hoping you could eat me instead…"
Fulfilling her request would bind Rimuru,no doubt, and give him a curse of his own. He would be charged with taking on her despair and hatred.
Was there any need to waver on that, though? If he wanted her to see the afterlife with her mind at peace—the answer was obvious.
"All right. I'll be happy to take on your feelings. And what was the name of this man…the one who hurt you?"
At the question, Shizu opened her eyes, scrunched up her burn-scarred face, and shed a few more tears. "Leon Cromwell," she said. "One of the strongest demon lords."
She looked at him with pleading eyes.
"I promise!" he declared. "By my name as Satoru Mikami, or Rimuru Tempest, or whatever works best for you, I promise I'll make Leon Cromwell know everything you feel about him. I'll make him regret every moment!"
"Thank you," she whispered, and then she closed her eyes, her breath turning shallow as she slept.
Use unique skill "Predator"?
Yes
No