"Lord Rimuru, who is this? Do you know him?"
Kaijin, standing beside Rimuru, glanced at the prestigious invitation in Granstar's hand. His brows lifted—such an invitation wasn't given lightly.
"Oh, him?" Rimuru grinned, relaxing in his seat. "He's a good friend of mine. Also, second-in-command in our village."
Rimuru's tone was casual, but the words carried weight. Kaijin blinked in surprise; Rimuru didn't often give out titles like that lightly.
"I see…" Kaijin muttered, and the others around them nodded in realization. It explained why someone like Granstar would receive such a gesture from Rimuru.
Still, Granstar's aloof demeanor puzzled them. Why would someone so cold-looking take the initiative to join them?
"So, you're Master Kaijin."
Granstar finally spoke, his voice low and calm. He cast a glance at the three dwarves behind Kaijin—Garm, Dord, and Myrd—and gave a slight nod.
"When I was passing through the Dwarven Kingdom of Dwargon, your name came up more than once. A legendary blacksmith—and these must be the famed Three Dwarven Brothers."
Despite his reserved expression, there was genuine respect in his tone. His words weren't flattery—they carried sincerity. Kaijin, caught off guard by the praise, chuckled awkwardly.
"Ah, we're just doing our jobs, that's all. Hahaha."
"Since you're a friend of Lord Rimuru's, let's celebrate together. May I ask your name?"
Kaijin extended a hand in camaraderie.
"Just call me Granstar," he replied with a polite nod.
Without another word, he moved to Rimuru's side, where the slime was lounging comfortably in the lap of an elf lady—her soft voice murmuring sweet nothings. Granstar plucked Rimuru up like a plush toy, earning a shriek of protest.
"Hey, hey, I was in the middle of something important!" Rimuru pouted. "What do you want, Granstar?"
Ignoring the complaint, Granstar leaned in close, his voice a whisper only Rimuru could hear.
"I know you can produce gold coins. Lend me a few. I'm flat broke."
Rimuru stared at him, aghast. "You came to an elf lounge with no money?!"
Sighing internally, Rimuru knew he had no choice if he wanted to get back to enjoying the elves' company.
"Fine, here."
With a flicker of magic, a small pouch of gold coins appeared. Granstar pocketed it smoothly, and Rimuru zipped back to his seat like a blue blur.
"Ah—! Oh!"
An elf lady yelped, the sudden weight in her lap causing her ample chest to jiggle. Whether or not Rimuru planned it, no one could say.
"Good grief…" Granstar shook his head, though his lips quirked in amusement. The gold coins were worth it.
With drinks refilled and cheer in the air, the party resumed. Granstar handed a few coins to the elf ladies who had served him earlier, prompting delighted smiles from them.
"Really, if it weren't for you, Lord Rimuru," Kaijin said, raising his mug in a toast, "I couldn't have completed that insane construction request. Here's to you!"
"Cheers!" Rimuru grinned and clinked mugs. He gulped the wine in one go, though he still couldn't taste it. Being a slime had its drawbacks.
Sometimes, he really envied Granstar for having a proper tongue.
Just then, a soft voice reached Rimuru's ears.
"Rimuru, would you like to come over here? I can give you..."
His mind jumped to questionable conclusions. Wait—no! I'm a proper slime! I have standards!
But the elf only smiled and continued:
"A prophecy reading with the magic crystal ball, to glimpse your destined one."
"Oh! That sounds fun!" Rimuru exclaimed, bouncing up excitedly.
"Please place your hand above the crystal ball," she instructed gently.
"Got it!"
As Rimuru followed her instructions with curiosity gleaming in his eyes, Granstar paused mid-sip. His grip on the wine glass tightened for a second.
It's starting, huh… he thought silently. The one destined for Rimuru.
Though he already knew the answer, Granstar chose to remain silent. For now, he watched—quiet, unreadable—as the future slowly revealed itself in the swirling crystal glow.
Rimuru placed his hand on the crystal ball, which began to emit a faint, ethereal glow. Slowly, an image formed within its depths—at first hazy, like mist over a lake.
He watched with mild curiosity and a tinge of nervousness. As the picture sharpened, the face of a young girl appeared. She was beautiful, though her expression was tinged with confusion, as if she had just woken from a dream.
"Haha, she's quite the looker, Lord Rimuru!" Kaijin joked, elbowing him lightly. "Maybe the spirits are playing matchmaker now, huh?"
Rimuru chuckled, but he couldn't shake the feeling tugging at his chest. There was something oddly familiar about the girl in the vision—something that stirred a strange warmth deep inside him.
"Granstar," Rimuru said suddenly, turning toward the silver-haired woman who had been quietly observing. "Want to give it a try? I feel like... I need to see what fate shows you."
"Me?" Granstar blinked, clearly caught off guard.
"Yeah," Rimuru nodded. "Why not? I'm kind of curious now too."
Encouraged by his enthusiasm, Granstar stepped forward. He hesitated for a brief moment, then mimicked Rimuru's actions, placing his hand on the crystal ball.
Everyone gathered leaned in as the ball began to shimmer once again. This time, the image forming inside was different—an endless expanse of ice and snow, harsh and unforgiving. The wind howled in the vision, and the air seemed to shimmer with freezing magic.
Then, a solitary figure came into view.
A tall silhouette stood atop a frozen peak, their back turned to the viewer. Clad in flowing, frost-bound robes, the figure exuded an aura of overwhelming authority and solitude. Just their posture radiated a quiet, piercing arrogance—the kind that came from unimaginable power and years of isolation.
Behind him, twelve shadowy figures stood like silent sentinels, too blurred to make out in detail. Their presence added to the sense of dread and majesty.
Before the image could resolve further, the crystal ball gave a loud crack and shattered into shimmering fragments.
"Ah!" the elf who had been conducting the vision gasped, stepping back in shock. "It broke! That's never happened before!"
The room fell into stunned silence. Even Rimuru looked slightly troubled—he'd only glimpsed the figure's back, but the chilling pressure that leaked through the vision was hard to ignore.
"What... was that?" Kaijin muttered, the earlier humor in his tone completely gone.
Granstar slowly withdrew his hand. His expression was unreadable, but his violet eyes lingered on the fragments for a long moment.
"Well," he finally said with a small smile, "prophecies are only one possibility among many. In the end, it's our choices that shape the future."
Rimuru nodded slowly, still thinking about the image. "Yeah… You're right."
"Come on, let's not let a little cracked crystal ruin the mood," Granstar added, lifting his cup. "Let's drink to what we can control."
"To human—or monster—effort!" Kaijin roared, raising his mug, his cheeks flushed.
"Cheers!"
The feast continued as if nothing had happened. Laughter filled the hall again, and the strange vision was swept away like a dream. But Rimuru couldn't quite forget that lone figure on the icy summit—and the strange tug in his soul that hadn't gone away.