Note: I ended up liking the story of Senji Muramasa x Alaya, so I decided to do this story of Senji Muramasa x Rimuru Tempest, I have always loved Rimuru, so let's go a story with this pairing, I hope no one gets upset. Also, I have to warn that I have no idea about the work Tensei Shitara Slime Datta Ken, I watched the first season, but until then, I didn't continue watching the anime/light novel/manga, but as I said, I like Rimuru a little, so in this story Rimuru Tempest will be a woman. I hope no one gets angry with this, it's a Fanfic, it will just be like a story in everyday life in Senji Muramasa's forge where little by little his relationship with Rimuru Tempest will be formed.
And I also need help with Ciel, give me a suggestion of how she can be handled in the story, for now she was not included in the prologue, but surely there are people interested in seeing her included in the story, so I will need help with that.
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Prologue
The sky above him was an immense, vast, and unknown blue. Senji Muramasa frowned as his gaze swept across the landscape around him. I was in the middle of a dense and vibrant forest, where the sound of wildlife mixed with the whisper of the wind that caressed the treetops. It was a strange, alien place, and no matter how hard he tried to understand how he had gotten there, his mind did not give him clear answers.
He had been in his forge, as always, forging a blade intended for a client he could no longer remember. Then, everything went black, and now it was here.
"What the hell is this place...?" he muttered in his deep voice, the harsh tone that characterized him.
The blacksmith was not someone easy to disconcert, but he couldn't deny that the situation was unusual even for him. As a heroic spirit, he was accustomed to being summoned by a Master, bound to a contract that defined his purpose in the world he came to. However, this time it was different. He did not feel the characteristic bond that bound him to a magician. There were no orders, there were no obligations, just an overwhelmingly abundant flow of mana permeating everything around him.
He brought his right hand to his shoulder, adjusting the white kimono that hung carelessly over him. The fabric, embellished with intricate floral patterns on its inner lining, contrasted with the bright red of the sleeve that covered her left arm, decorated with designs that looked like dancing flames. His right arm, uncovered, showed firm musculature, the result of countless years of work in the forge. The white sash tied around his waist secured the black hakama pants he wore, while shin guards protected his legs up to his ankles. Every detail of her outfit spoke of someone accustomed to both discipline and functionality.
"Well, I can't stand here forever," he said to himself, with a resigned sigh.
The manna in the air was almost suffocating, but at the same time, comforting. It was as if the world itself was telling him that he could stay here, that there were no limits to his existence in this place. Unlike other worlds where the scarcity of magical energy could wear down a Servant without a Master, this place was different. Here I could survive, and perhaps, even live peacefully.
With one last look at the forest, Muramasa made a decision. If he was going to stay in this world, he would need a shelter. More importantly, it would need a forge.
Days passed while Muramasa dedicated himself to building his home. He found a clearing in the forest, close enough to a river to supply himself with water, but far from the routes traveled by humans and other beings. Using improvised tools at first, he began to erect the structure that would serve as both a shelter and a workshop.
The process was arduous, but for someone like him, accustomed to working with fire and metal, it was an almost therapeutic task. Every blow of the hammer, every board placed, reminded him that creation was the essence of his existence. The forge, in particular, was his highest priority. He built the furnace with sturdy stones and materials he collected from the forest, ensuring that it could withstand the high temperatures needed to forge weapons.
Finally, after weeks of work, the forge was ready. In the center of the workshop, the furnace glowed with a warm glow, the sound of fire filling the space with a comforting echo. The tools he had brought with him since his summoning were neatly organized on a makeshift shelf.
Muramasa folded his arms, admiring his work with a faint smile of satisfaction. "It's a good start," he said quietly.
The environment also began to adapt to its presence. Some merchants and adventurers began to pass through the area, attracted by rumors of a strange blacksmith who could repair any weapon or forge parts of unmatched quality. Although he was not interested in gossip, Muramasa accepted the jobs that came his way, more to keep his hands busy than anything else.
What Muramasa didn't know was that his tranquil refuge was strategically located between the Tempest Realm and a nearby human realm. His skill as a blacksmith would soon attract attention, and among those who would seek his services would be someone who would change his life forever.
Two weeks later...
The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, dyeing the sky a warm orange that contrasted with the smoke that still came out of the forge's furnace. Senji Muramasa, standing by the entrance to his workshop, watched with a calm expression as a group of soldiers from the nearby human realm walked away, carrying with them the weapons and armor he had forged for them.
"Your work is impeccable, blacksmith! We have not seen such fine weapons in the entire region," one of the soldiers exclaimed, raising a freshly sharpened sword that gleamed in the evening light.
Another soldier, carrying a steel helmet, nodded enthusiastically. "I never thought a sword could be so balanced. It feels like it's part of my arm!"
Muramasa, his arms folded, showed little enthusiasm for the compliments, though a faint gleam of pride flashed in his golden eyes. "I did as they asked," he said in his usual tone, dry but direct. "And as we agreed, I wait for payment."
The captain of the group nodded quickly, pulling out a heavy leather bag that he left on the makeshift table next to the forge. "Here is everything we promised. It was worth every coin."
Without saying more, the soldiers said goodbye, thanking them again before leaving, their laughter and footsteps getting lost in the forest. When he finally fell silent, Muramasa sighed and took the bag, checking its contents. It was more than enough to cover their needs for a while.
"Job done," he muttered to himself as he closed the forge door.
Now that night was beginning to fall, Muramasa found himself with nothing to do. He had completed all the pending orders, and the forge was silent for the first time in days. He decided to take advantage of the quiet moment to take care of himself.
He put his tools in their usual place, making sure everything was in order, before heading inside his house. In a nearby corner, he had improvised a shower with cold water that he obtained from the nearby river. Although it wasn't particularly comfortable, it was enough to keep it clean after a day working between fire and metal.
He took off the kimono that rested on his shoulder and untied the sash that held his black hakama. His torso, covered in scars that told stories of a past he was no longer interested in remembering, gleamed lightly in the dim light inside his home.
The cold water hit his skin, drawing a sigh of relief. It was a refreshing contrast to the heat he was used to in the forge. As water ran through his red hair and fell to the stone floor, Muramasa closed his eyes and let his mind wander.
"One more day," he thought as he finished showering.
With a clean body, Muramasa dressed in a simple yukata and went to the small kitchen he had built inside his home. His stomach growled, but he had no intention of preparing anything elaborate. He opened a wooden box and took out some rice and dried fish, enough for a light meal.
He lit a small fire and began to cook, his movements methodical and efficient, as if he were forging a sword instead of preparing food. Before long, the aroma of grilled fish filled the room, mixing with the comforting warmth of the fire.
As he ate in silence, Muramasa looked out the window. The full moon illuminated the forest with a silvery glow, and the sounds of nature were the only companions of his solitude. Although his life here was peaceful, he couldn't help but feel that something was missing, as if this world, with all its abundance of mana, still didn't offer him a clear purpose.
When he finished eating, he cleaned the utensils and turned off the heat, making sure everything was in place. Finally, he made his way to his room, where a simple futon was waiting for him. He plopped over him with a sigh, staring at the wooden ceiling as his mind began to clear.
"I suppose tomorrow will be another day like this," he muttered before closing his eyes and letting sleep claim him.
Another day...
The sun had barely reached its highest point when Senji Muramasa, now empty-handed from work, cleaned and organized the tools of his forge. The furnace was off, and the sound of the hammer against the metal had ceased for the first time in days. Although his routine was constant, that day seemed to drag on slower than usual.
"Nothing to do again?" he muttered to himself, staring at the empty oven.
Just as he was thinking about going out to collect more materials or simply wasting time watching the nearby river, the tinkling of a bell hung at the entrance to the forge caught his attention. I didn't expect visitors.
He turned, frowning, and what he saw took him by surprise: a small figure was entering the workshop curiously. She was a young girl, short in stature, with bright blue hair that fell in soft waves to her shoulders, and golden eyes that seemed to shine like gold itself. You could say in a simple word the appearance of this one, beautiful.
"Who are you?" asked Muramasa, crossing his arms as he watched her.
The girl, without losing her enthusiasm, smiled broadly at him. "Oh, hello! I was passing by and heard rumors about an amazing blacksmith, so I decided to come and see him for myself."
Muramasa raised an eyebrow, his posture firm but relaxed. "Hm? Can you know who you are?"
"Rimuru. Rimuru Tempest," she replied with a slight nod. "Nice to meet you."
The name didn't mean anything to Muramasa, but it wasn't like that mattered much to him. "Well, Rimuru Tempest, what do you want? I don't usually attend curious people without a valid reason."
Rimuru approached the forge furnace, examining everything with curious eyes, as if he were assessing the place. "I've heard that you're good at forging weapons, and I want to see if it's true. I need a katana."
Muramasa blinked a couple of times, puzzled by the confidence with which the young woman spoke. "A katana, you say? Why would someone as small as you need a katana?"
Rimuru gave him an amused look, not offended by his comment. "Oh, believe me, I know how to handle one. And I'd rather it be something handmade, not those mass-produced weapons that lack soul."
The comment ignited a spark inside Muramasa. The passion for his work was reflected for a moment in his golden eyes. "Hmph. At least you know how to recognize a good weapon. It is ok. If you have the money, I'll place your order."
"Perfect!" replied Rimuru, with a smile that seemed to light up the entire room.
Muramasa took Rimuru to the innermost part of the forge, where the tools and materials were arranged in perfect harmony. Despite his carefree appearance, Rimuru watched everything intently, his golden eyes shining with curiosity.
"How do you want it?" asked Muramasa as he pulled out a dark steel ingot that emitted a faint bluish glow, as if it had a life of its own.
"Simple, but sturdy," Rimuru replied, with a confident smile. "A katana that can withstand anything."
Muramasa lifted the ingot carefully, watching it closely. "This steel is not common," he said. "It has magical properties, a material that can amplify the mana of its wearer if worked correctly. If you really know how to handle a katana, this will be more than enough."
Rimuru bowed her head in interest, impressed by the blacksmith's knowledge. "Perfect. That sounds ideal."
Muramasa nodded and began to prepare the oven, lighting the fire with quick and efficient movements. As the steel absorbed the heat, it emitted flashes of blue light, as if responding to the environment. The blacksmith, with absolute concentration, began to hit the metal with his hammer, molding it with force and precision.
As he worked, Rimuru watched him with fascination, admiring the dedication with which the blacksmith handled each tool. The sound of the hammer against the metal filled the forge, creating a steady, almost hypnotic rhythm. The atmosphere was permeated with the heat of the furnace and the magic that gushed out of the steel, forming a unique spectacle for the girl.
Hours later, when he was finally done, Muramasa raised the newly forged katana, examining it with a critical eye. The blade's edge was flawless, and the blue glow of the magic steel seemed to move like flames under the firelight. It was a masterpiece, a reflection of his skill and pride as a blacksmith.
She handed it to Rimuru, who took it in both hands, amazed at the perfection of the weapon. He could feel the mana flowing through the steel, connecting with his own energy.
"This is... incredible," she said, turning her katana to observe its edge. "I'm definitely going to continue using your services."
Muramasa snorted, although deep down he was pleased. "That depends on what you need."
Rimuru secured the katana carefully, but his mind was already full of ideas. "Well, besides weapons, are you good at doing other things? Farming tools, kitchen utensils, that kind of thing."
Muramasa looked at her with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "Kitchen tools? Is that what you want me to do now?"
Rimuru laughed softly. "Well, you're very good with metal. Why not? Besides, if you're good with tools, maybe you could also try the craftsmanship."
Muramasa folded his arms, feeling that there was a little challenge in the girl's words. "Craftsmanship? You mean decorative things?"
"Exactly. Can you do it?" asked Rimuru with a curious smile.
Muramasa let out a sigh, though a gleam of pride flashed in his eyes. "I have made a hundred statues as a thank you for someone. It's not something new to me."
Rimuru opened his eyes in surprise. "One hundred? That's awesome."
She tilted her head slightly, with a playful smile. "Then why don't you make a statue of me? Just to see if what you say is true."
Muramasa stared at her silently for a moment, as if assessing the seriousness behind her words. Finally, he nodded, folding his arms confidently. "It's okay. Consider your request accepted."
A wider smile lit up Rimuru's face. "Perfect. I can't wait to see her. I'll be back tomorrow to see how you start working."
"As you wish," Muramasa replied in his dry tone, though the spark in his eyes betrayed that he accepted the challenge with some motivation.
Rimuru put the katana carefully in its holster and began to make his way toward the forge door, turning one last time before leaving. "So, see you tomorrow, blacksmith. By the way..." He paused, bowing his head slightly curiously. "I don't even know your name. What should I call you?"
Muramasa was silent for a moment, as if it were not something he considered important. Finally, he answered, directly and bluntly: "Senji. Senji Muramasa."
"Senji Muramasa, huh?" repeated Rimuru, trying out the name with a slight smile on his lips. "A good name for a great blacksmith. See you tomorrow, Muramasa."
The blacksmith snorted slightly. "Hmph. I never disappoint."
With one last light laugh, Rimuru said goodbye, his figure slowly disappearing into the distance of the road. Muramasa watched her until her light blue hair was no longer visible, and only then did she return to her forge.
As he walked back down the trail, a small sense of familiarity came over Rimuru. The name Senji Muramasa—why did it sound so familiar?
A faint thought flashed through her mind, like a fleeting flash, reminding her of something from her past life as a Japanese girl. Something about that name resonated with him, though he couldn't pinpoint where it came from.
"Muramasa... is it a common surname?" she muttered to herself, slightly intrigued, but quickly dismissed the idea.
"Surely it's just a coincidence," he thought, downplaying the feeling, as he continued on his way.
Muramasa was silent for a moment, staring at the tools in his workshop. He had accepted the order, but he knew that he did not have the right material to carve a statue. While the forge was filled with materials for forging weapons, armor, and tools, a statue required another type of material.
"A block of marble..." he muttered to himself. "It's what I need."
The marble he used for the statues was a rare type, very difficult to get in these surroundings. Muramasa knew that he would have to travel to the nearby human realm to find what he needed. Fortunately, he didn't lack the money to pay for the block, and since he didn't have any other urgent orders, he decided that he wouldn't waste any time.
With determination, Muramasa prepared for his departure. He secured the forge and the house, making sure everything was in order before setting out on his little journey. He fastened the belt that carried tools and small arms, just in case, and made sure to carry a bag with enough money to pay for the marble.
The road to the human realm wasn't long, but the fresh air and the sound of swaying trees gave him a sense of calm as he walked. In the distance, the rooftops of the kingdom peeked out from among the trees, illuminated by the last rays of the sun.
Upon arriving in the city, Muramasa quickly made his way to the market, where he knew he would find a store specializing in quality materials. It was a small place, but it always had the best for the artisans and sculptors who passed by.
The owner, an older man with a tired but attentive appearance, greeted him as soon as he saw him enter. "Ah, Muramasa! I wasn't expecting you here, what brings you today?"
"I've come to get a block of marble," Muramasa replied, bluntly. "I need something suitable for a statue."
The man nodded, understanding immediately. "A special commission, huh? I'll show you what we have."
He led him to a secluded section of the store, where several blocks of marble and stone were carefully stored. After examining a couple of options, Muramasa stopped in front of a block of white marble with light bluish veins, something rare, but perfect for the task ahead.
"This one," he said finally, pointing to the block with his finger. "It's what I need."
The merchant looked at the marble, nodding satisfied. "Good choice. This one is from the northern mountains. It has the perfect density for sculpting fine details."
Muramasa took out a bag of gold coins and paid without hesitation. "Thank you. I'll take it right now."
With the block of marble on his shoulder, Muramasa returned along the path that led him back home. Although it had not been a long journey, the weight of the marble reminded him that while blacksmithing was his specialty, statues required a different kind of patience.
"This won't be difficult," he thought, assessing the bloc. "Although the statues are more delicate, I have already made a hundred of them. This will be just a small challenge."
Upon arriving at his workshop, he left the marble in a corner, making sure it was in a place where he could work comfortably. Muramasa paused for a moment, admiring the block, knowing that Rimuru's statue would not only be a work of art, but also a reflection of his skill.
"I guess I'll start tomorrow," he murmured, feeling a faint excitement about the challenge ahead. Although work was nothing new to him, he liked to push himself into the perfection of each job.
Morning light softly illuminated Muramasa's workshop, which was ready to begin. The block of marble, white with bluish veins, rested in the center of the forge, waiting to be transformed. Although Muramasa had worked on statues before, he knew that this commission would require his utmost concentration, despite how simple it was for him. He had made hundreds of statues, and this wouldn't be a challenge that took him more than a day.
"I suppose it will be a matter of time," he murmured, looking at the block. "It's not as big as some of the ones I've done before, so it'll be quick."
With the chisel and hammer in hand, he began to work. Every blow was precise, and the marble quickly gave way under his expert hands. Muramasa sculpted calmly and efficiently, with the sound of the hammer echoing through the forge, creating a steady rhythm as the figure began to take shape.
It wasn't long before the forge door rang, announcing Rimuru's arrival. She had arrived early, as if she couldn't wait to see Muramasa begin and, perhaps, finish the statue. There was something in her eyes that indicated that she was excited and curious about the result.
"Hello, Muramasa! I'm here!" said Rimuru with a big smile, entering the workshop with energy.
Muramasa looked up for a moment, surprised to see her so early. "Are you so excited to see how the statue goes?" she asked, still working.
Rimuru nodded quickly, coming over to observe the work. "Of course! I was looking forward to seeing how you did it. It's already taking shape!"
The block of marble already had the figure of a small person with an elegant posture, clearly identifiable as Rimuru. Muramasa had advanced further than she expected, and the statue already had a detailed countenance that reflected the girl's essence.
"Is it almost finished yet?" asked Rimuru, visibly surprised. "I can't believe you moved forward so quickly!"
Muramasa raised the chisel and, with a restrained smile, replied, "I've done this many times before. When you know what you're doing, it doesn't take much."
Rimuru watched intently as Muramasa worked, seeing every detail he added to the statue. The figure now showed a serenity on the statue's face, and the bluish veins of the marble flowed gracefully into the piece, adding a unique touch.
"It's awesome..." Rimuru murmured, almost in a whisper, looking at every detail with admiration. "You did it so quickly... and it's perfect."
Muramasa, satisfied with his work, made a final touch on the edge of the statue's base. "Marble is a good material. It's easy to work with, and its strength allows for fine detail."
When Muramasa finished, he took a step back to observe the statue in its entirety. The marble reflected the sunlight, and Rimuru, seeing his own sculpted image, couldn't help but smile broadly.
"It's... it's amazing!" he exclaimed, looking at the statue in amazement. "I didn't expect it to look so good, much less in such a short time. It's better than I imagined!"
Muramasa folded his arms and nodded calmly. "I'm glad you like it. For such a simple assignment, I did it quickly. But it's always important to make sure it's perfect."
"It definitely is! I told you you wouldn't disappoint me," Rimuru said, looking at the statue once again with satisfaction.
Rimuru approached Muramasa, smiling, and, as if it were natural, tapped him lightly on the arm. "Thank you, Muramasa. I can't wait to show this to everyone. The statue is perfect!"
Muramasa, though a little bewildered by his enthusiasm, smiled slightly. "I'm glad you liked me."
Rimuru, satisfied and visibly happy, said goodbye, thanking again. "I'll come back to see how it fits into the place I'll put it, but for now... you're a genius, Muramasa!"
With that last smile, Rimuru left the forge, leaving Muramasa alone with his finished work. As he watched her disappear along the way, a small satisfaction settled in his chest. It wasn't just the perfection of the work that motivated him, but the simple fact that he had done his job well.
The sun shone in the sky above the mansion, bathing everything in a golden light as Rimuru returned home, the statue of his own image carefully transported. The statue, made of white marble with bluish veins, shone impressively in the daylight, reflecting the perfection of every detail masterfully sculpted by Muramasa.
As Rimuru entered the road to the mansion, the news of his arrival with the statue spread quickly. The inhabitants of Tempest City, always curious about their leader's progress, gathered in the streets, eager to see the work he had commissioned.
"Rimuru-sama, is that the statue you were talking about?!"
"It's amazing! She's just like you!"
The inhabitants watched in fascination as Rimuru approached the entrance of the mansion, where a small exhibition had been prepared to display the statue. The children would approach and touch it in amazement, admiring the precision and detail with which the marble figure reflected its own image.
"Perfection!" exclaimed one of the soldier ogres, a proud smile on his face. "This craftsman, he's a real genius!"
"It's as if Rimuru-sama is right here!" added another, looking at the statue in amazement.
Rimuru, seeing the excitement of the people, couldn't help but blush slightly. "It's just a statue, don't exaggerate," he said, though a satisfied smile flashed across his face. People kept clapping and praising Muramasa's work, highlighting how amazing it was how the statue captured not only the figure, but also a kind of special energy that seemed to emanate from the stone.
"This must be the work of a master! Who did it?" asked one of the merchants, looking at the plaque that Rimuru had placed next to the statue.
"His name is Senji Muramasa," Rimuru replied proudly. "An exceptional blacksmith. I met him recently, but he has already impressed me. This statue is just one of his works."
People began to murmur among themselves, admiring the fact that such an important figure to the kingdom, such as Rimuru, had such a realistic statue. The entire kingdom began to see the craftsman with new eyes, appreciating the talent and skill he had shown in such a short time.
"You must know it!" exclaimed a young adventurer who was in the group. "If he makes statues like these, what else can he create? I want to see more of his work!"
"We should put on a display of your art in the kingdom!" suggested another. "Who knows what else a genius like him can do?"
Rimuru looked around, a faint smile on his lips. The statue was a simple work of art to her, but the admiration of the people made him feel somewhat proud. It was not every day that such a simple job was received with such emotion.
'Yes, that might be a good idea,' Rimuru thought, as he gazed at the statue with an approving look. 'Maybe I should invite him next time, so that he can get to know Tempest City and my people.'
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Note:
This story will unfold in a few chapters, with a gradual focus on the relationship between Senji Muramasa and Rimuru Tempest. The progress of your connection will be natural, moving slowly as you get to know each other more.
Since the relationship will take on a romantic tone, I would like to know if you would be interested in reading a lemon when Senji Muramasa and Rimuru Tempest's relationship is fully defined, moving forward to the intimate act of both. Any comments or suggestions are welcome. Thanks for reading!