"Stop sulking," Shizu sighed, arms crossed as she stood beside me on the ledge that overlooked the ruins of the ogre village.
I didn't answer right away.
Below us, where there had once been over fifty warriors and their kin, stood only scattered survivors among soot and smoke. The air was thick with the scent of burnt timber and blood, and the sounds of mourning replaced what should have been a morning filled with laughter and rising bread.
"…I'm not sulking," I muttered.
"Mm-hmm."
She stepped closer and, without warning, reached out and patted my head. "There, there. You did well."
I blinked up at her, flat and unimpressed. My cheeks betrayed me, though, heat blooming beneath them. I brushed her hand off with a scowl.
"I let him get away."
"Were you actually trying to win?" she asked with a raised brow.
"…No," I admitted. "But it's still annoying. He was playing with me. Like a game. I couldn't even make him flinch."
Shizu didn't answer. She didn't need to. I could feel her thoughts and emotions through the corridor.
My eyes drifted back to the village. Or what was left of it.
Ash. Smoke. Bodies. Survivors sobbing beside makeshift graves.
And all I could think was:
This was necessary.
That's the lie I told myself.
But the truth was simpler.
I didn't believe I could build something with them—not without this. Not without their pain anchoring them to me. Rimuru built bonds through kindness, trust.
But I'm not him.
And he's not me.
He didn't need a tragedy to win their loyalty.
I do.
"…They're waiting for us," Shizu said quietly. She squeezed my arm before turning away, heading down the slope without another word.
I looked down. Fenral stood at attention, blood still staining his fur. Rigur and the goblin riders flanked him. Behind them were the surviving ogres. Most had their heads bowed—out of grief or respect, I didn't know.
All except one.
The prince was staring straight at me.
I exhaled slowly. "Showtime," I whispered to myself and began the walk down, controlling every twitch of my face until I wore my usual smile.
"Akuma-sama!" Fenral barked proudly. "I have fulfilled your command!"
His tail thumped the ground behind him like a war drum. The sheer force was flattening dirt and cracking stone.
"Good job, Fenral."
I reached up and patted his head, earning even more tail-wagging—dangerously so.
Then, from among the crowd, a soft voice called out. "Was it you… who sent the wolf to us?"
I turned.
The priestess. Eyes swollen from crying, but were no longer shaking.
"…Yes," I answered simply.
"I'm sorry I came late," I continued, voice low. "I'd been tracking the orcs' movements… I didn't expect them to move so soon. I assigned Fenral to watch over your village while I protected the goblins under my care."
I paused, letting the weight of it settle.
"I thought… out of everyone… you would need help the least. I didn't anticipate a majin was involved."
She lowered her head. Whether in thanks or sorrow, I couldn't tell.
The prince stepped forward next, placing a hand on her shoulder before facing me.
"…Then it wasn't your fault," he said firmly. "If not for that majin, we would've repelled them like we always have. You didn't miscalculate. You placed your trust in our strength."
I blinked at him.
That wasn't what I expected.
"I can tell you blame yourself," He continued, voice even. "So I'm telling you now, as the acting head of this village… don't. We're alive. That's what matters."
I let that hang in the air for a moment. His words, honest and grounded, weren't meant to comfort. They were a reflection of reality. One I appreciated more than blind praise.
"…Thank you," I murmured, eyes drifting toward the wreckage behind them.
And then, with a glance at the few battered ogres still standing among the graves, I added softly,
"Well… mostly."
His lips curled in a tired smile—but there was no joy in it, only a weary acceptance.
The priestess didn't say a word. She simply bowed her head as fresh tears slipped silently down her cheeks, her shoulders trembling as she clasped her hands against her chest.
I sighed quietly through my nose and turned toward Shizu. She met my gaze and gave the smallest nod, saying everything without a single word.
I stepped forward, raising my voice just enough for all of them to hear.
"I know I can't bring back the dead. I know no apology, no strength, no words can fill the hole this tragedy has left behind."I looked over them—not just the siblings but every single survivor still standing.
"But what I can do… is offer you a chance."
Their eyes lifted to me.
"A chance to get stronger. To take revenge on the one responsible. To rebuild what you've lost, if not here, then somewhere safer."I paused, lowering my voice slightly. "And when it's all over—when you've gotten your vengeance, when you've stood tall again—you're free to go. Whether you stay with me or not… that's your decision."
I opened my arms, not in arrogance, but in invitation.
"All I ask… is that you let me help you."
There was a long silence.
The prince looked back. The remaining ogres—bruised, bleeding, exhausted—gave him no words… only a silent plea written in their eyes. A flicker of hope in the middle of their despair.
He faced me again and gave a single, solemn nod.
"…Alright."
I smirked—calm, controlled, and just a little dramatic as I extended a hand toward him.
"Well then…" I said smoothly."Nice to meet you, Benimaru."