The true devastation unfolded in an endless void, where two unknown entities clashed with unimaginable force, annihilating and recreating countless spheres—universes and multiverses alike. Lethal attacks rained down as the battle escalated, obliterating the surroundings beyond recognition. The void itself struggled to keep pace with the destruction, beginning to collapse under the weight of the conflict.
Unable to witness this frenzy any longer, a being who had been observing the carnage began to stir. With a single lift of his eyebrow, the two entities froze in fear, and the clash came to a sudden halt. Rising from his throne, his mere presence made countless entities—stronger than the two who had been fighting—kneel in respect, their voices thundering in unison:
"All hail the Emperor of Dark!"
Responding to their cheers, he raised his hand with an emotionless face. As he took steps toward the two, the pressure upon them intensified. In the blink of an eye, he reached them, traversing multiple voids larger than the one where the battle had unfolded. The instant he arrived, the void returned to its pristine state, as if the battle had never occurred. It glittered with countless spheres of universes and multiverses, stretching endlessly into infinity.
The two entities lay on the ground, crushed by his mere presence. Yet, he allowed them to exist, controlling his aura with precise restraint. Their faces were filled with dread—the expression of prey sensing its predator. But calling him a predator would be an understatement. To them, he was death itself.
While he was known as the Emperor of Dark by his underlings and those weaker than him, his true name was Nirvakal. No one dared to utter this name unless he had given them recognition. To speak his name without his consent was to invite instant annihilation—erased from existence by the very utterance of his name.
As the two beings trembled before him—realizing the true magnitude of their mistake—they began to regret their battle. They had fought merely for control over each other's territory, never imagining their actions would invoke him.
Their fear of erasure grew, and in desperation, they turned on each other—blaming one another in a pathetic attempt to escape their fate. But in doing so, they made the fatal mistake Nirvakal despised most. Had they accepted their fault, their existence might have been spared. Instead, their refusal to take responsibility sealed their fate.
Without a word or even a glance, they were erased from existence.
No one dared to ridicule them, knowing they would suffer the same fate if they did. Instead, they simply thought to themselves, What pitiful fellows, as they knelt once more to welcome Nirvakal back to his throne.
For as long as he could remember, Nirvakal had reigned as the absolute ruler—an existence beyond all, sitting upon his throne since the very beginning. Because, in truth, he was the beginning itself. He had witnessed everything. He had watched endless, pointless battles unfold, had seen countless entities rise and fall. And as he sat upon his throne for what felt like eternity, he found himself growing bored.
He longed for something to break the monotony. Something to intrigue him.
Then, his gaze shifted to one of the worlds under his rule—a world where humans resided. There, he noticed something interesting.
A human was writing a story. A story about another being—a mere slime—who had been reincarnated in a different world, rising in power and forging his own identity. What intrigued Nirvakal the most wasn't just the story itself, but the fact that the world this slime inhabited bore a striking resemblance to one he had glimpsed before—coincidentally, with nothing more than a slight tilt of his pupils.
But what truly shocked him was something far greater.
Whatever the human wrote in his story—every event, every action involving the slime—actually happened in that world.
The slime's growth, its encounters, its influence over its surroundings… everything unfolded exactly as the human had written.
Intrigued by this phenomenon, Nirvakal activated his eyes—eyes that could see everything, from what was to what would be. In a mere glance, he witnessed the entire story that had taken the human years to write.
And what he discovered was astonishing.
The slime, in just a single year by human standards, would reach a level of power that had taken Nirvakal's own pawns millions of years to attain. As time passed, it would continue to grow, becoming the strongest being in its world. And in merely ten years, it would surpass a threshold that had taken some of Nirvakal's most formidable servants trillions of years to reach.
This anomaly piqued Nirvakal's interest even further. A mere slime achieving such an impossible rise? He couldn't ignore it.
And so, he made his decision.
He would visit the slime's world—a world where this being had only just begun establishing itself as one of the absolute forces.
Before departing, he left behind a clone—containing just 1% of his power. It wasn't because this was some monumental event that required his personal attention. If he wished, he could have easily sent some of his servants to handle the matter. No, the true reason was much simpler.
Nirvakal, the almighty, was simply trying to escape his endless boredom.
The potential of this slime's rise intrigued him, but in the end, it was just another way to break the monotony of his rule.
And so, he stepped forward.
In an instant, he was already standing before the place where the slime reigned.
At that very moment, the slime—having established itself as one of the absolute forces in its world—was hosting a grand festival.
Before entering the slime's world, Nirvakal decided to alter his appearance. He wanted to blend in, to observe without drawing too much attention. So, he crafted a special void, millions of times larger and stronger than the void where the two entities had fought earlier. This void contained his aura, ensuring that his immense power would not overwhelm everything in sight.
Had he appeared in his original form, no being would even dare to look at him. The sheer majesty and power of his presence would be enough to cause all who gazed upon him to perish. Only Nirvakal knew how his form had been made, and he understood that without a space like this to contain his aura, everything in its vicinity would simply be erased.
Now disguised, he wore a black robe, with a sword slung across his back—an accessory he chose on a whim, without any particular reason. It seemed fitting—an odd yet human touch to his otherwise otherworldly persona.
With that preparation complete, he entered the slime's world.
After entering the slime's nation, which was holding a grand festival, Nirvakal decided to observe from a distance before making his move. Instead of going straight to the slime, he blended into the crowd, appearing like a normal human. As he entered through the main gate, he watched people moving in and out, engaging in various activities like eating food, shopping, and chatting with each other. While Nirvakal knew all of this already—nothing ever escaped his gaze—he couldn't help but be intrigued by the way humans smiled and laughed over such simple joys.
For Nirvakal, emotions were an unfamiliar concept. He had never experienced joy, sorrow, or even anger—only an endless, numbing boredom. This, however, was something new. The sight of humans finding happiness in such simple pleasures piqued his curiosity, and so he observed further.
As he continued observing, he overheard a conversation.
A young man spoke with a mix of emotions—disgust and admiration. "I didn't expect such a grand festival from these barbaric monsters. These kinds of food and new architecture… never seen in any of the kingdoms, nations, or empires before. Truly, this new ruler of Jura Tempest Federation is something else."
He said this while wearing an expression of disgust, his steps landing strongly against the ground, yet his eyes betrayed his intrigue. Though his words mocked the festival, he couldn't help but glance at the food stalls, his gaze lingering on the delicious dishes displayed before him.
Beside him, a young woman nodded absentmindedly, barely paying attention. Her focus was entirely on the food stalls, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. The sight of never-before-seen dishes made her mouth water, and she licked her lips unconsciously, drawn to the aroma of the meals.
Nirvakal observed them in silence.
Humans were… strange creatures. To him, they were lesser than ants. And yet, they could perceive, feel, and experience things he could not.
How could this man, who clearly despised monsters, still admire their work and their ruler? How could such contradictory emotions exist within the same being?
As he continued walking, he soon arrived at the festival's heart, where the main celebration was being held—an area even more crowded than before.
It was then that he overheard something else.
People were speaking about Rimuru, the slime, being at the Colosseum.
A competition was being held there—to choose his fourth Heavenly King.
Nirvakal thought for a moment.
Perhaps… it was time to pay a visit.
So how will the first interaction between The Absolute Abyss and The Radiance turn out?