The endless expanse surrounding Varvatos was unlike anything he had ever witnessed. It was a realm devoid of matter and time, yet heavy with an overwhelming sense of existence. The air, if it could be called that, shimmered with a brilliance of unseen colors. Each breath Varvatos took was filled not with oxygen, but with pure cosmic essence. In front of him stood Veldanava, the being whose very presence seemed to bend reality around him.
Veldanava, his form radiant, hair weaving into constellations, and his eyes deeper than the abyss, smiled kindly at Varvatos. His smile was filled with warmth, yet beneath it lay a gravity that only an ancient creator could bear.
"Varvatos," Veldanava spoke, his voice layering itself over existence, echoing in every corner of the boundless void, "you have courage and conviction. But before I entrust you with the Keys of the Cardinal World, you must prove yourself worthy not just in strength, but in spirit, mind, and soul."
Varvatos, standing firm, bowed his head in acknowledgment. "I understand. I am ready."
Veldanava raised his hand. From his palm, three radiant orbs formed: one gold, one silver, one an eerie, shifting black.
"Three Trials you must undergo. Each representing a pillar of true divinity: Wisdom, Courage, and Compassion. Fail one, and you shall be cast from this realm, your memory of this encounter sealed forever."
The orbs floated towards Varvatos, circling him slowly.
"The first trial," Veldanava said, as the golden orb pulsed, "will test your Wisdom."
The golden orb expanded suddenly, engulfing Varvatos in its radiance. His surroundings changed. He now stood in what seemed like an endless library, vast beyond comprehension. The books floated in midair, endless spirals of knowledge. In the center stood a figure cloaked in shadow, holding an ancient tome.
"To proceed," the figure intoned, "you must solve the Riddle of Eternity."
The voice boomed, and the riddle was spoken:
"I am older than gods, yet a moment to some. I build empires and erase mountains, yet I leave no mark. I am the first breath and the final whisper. What am I?"
Varvatos closed his eyes, letting the realm's essence flow into him. He thought of battles fought, nations risen and fallen, the ephemeral life of mortals and even gods. The answer resonated within him.
Opening his eyes, he spoke clearly, "Time."
The figure bowed, and the tome in his hands dissolved into golden light, rushing into Varvatos' chest. The library faded away.
Veldanava reappeared before him, a satisfied look in his timeless gaze.
"You have passed the Trial of Wisdom," he said.
The silver orb pulsed next, and without a word, Varvatos was drawn into another vision.
This time, he found himself standing atop a colossal bridge made of crystal, spanning over a bottomless chasm of darkness. Across the bridge, a figure cloaked in immense, oppressive aura waited—a monstrous titan whose body seemed to be made of broken stars and black mist.
"The Trial of Courage," Veldanava's voice echoed from the void.
The titan roared, its bellow shaking the bridge. Varvatos felt the sheer pressure crushing down on him, every instinct telling him to flee.
Yet he stood firm.
Varvatos summoned his blade—one forged from his soul, glistening with the power of countless victories. The titan charged, each step splintering the bridge. Varvatos charged in turn, their clash creating a maelstrom of shattered stars.
The battle was fierce and relentless. The titan lashed out with crushing fists and roaring blasts of void energy. Varvatos dodged, parried, and countered, every movement a symphony of precision. He fought not just with strength, but with will, pushing past fear and exhaustion.
At the climax, Varvatos leapt into the air, channeling all his power into one decisive blow, severing the titan's core. The creature disintegrated into motes of starlight, and the bridge repaired itself beneath his feet.
The vision faded.
Back in the void, Veldanava regarded him with pride.
"You have passed the Trial of Courage."
Finally, the black orb stirred.
"Now," Veldanava's voice softened, "the Trial of Compassion."
The world reshaped again. Varvatos found himself in a shattered city—ruins smoking, cries of the wounded filling the air. People—mortals—staggered, helpless, broken. At the center of it all, a single child knelt beside her fallen mother, sobbing.
A shadowy entity appeared behind the child, a sickly mist of hatred and despair, ready to devour her.
Varvatos understood: he could only save one. Either protect the child or save hundreds of other wounded citizens.
The decision was agony.
He took a deep breath. Then, moving faster than sight, he placed a shield around the child and, without hesitation, spread his own essence across the ruined city. His very soul unraveled to cover the survivors, sacrificing a part of himself to heal, protect, and shelter them.
Pain lanced through him, but he bore it with clenched fists.
The shadowy entity screamed as it was dispelled, and the city, slowly, started to shimmer with light.
Varvatos collapsed to one knee, exhausted, but he smiled. He had chosen the many, but did not abandon the one.
The scene dissolved.
Back in the timeless void, Veldanava stood silently, watching him with eyes that gleamed with something akin to sadness and pride.
"You have passed the Trial of Compassion, Varvatos," Veldanava said, voice thick with emotion. "You have proven yourself in ways few ever have."
Years had passed since Varvatos left.
Though in the divine realm where he now dwelled, only mere days had elapsed, the Cardinal World marched forward without him.
Life in Nyvaris continued steadily.
Under the leadership of Velzard, the land remained a beacon of hope and peace.
The once-fractured world, which had tasted despair during the Angel and Insectar invasion, began to flourish again.
Yet a question lingered in the air like a phantom that refused to leave:
Will Varvatos ever return?
Velzard often stood alone atop the Tower of Vigilance, gazing at the horizon beyond the ever-brilliant barrier.
She missed his presence — the unwavering certainty he brought, the way even the stars seemed to shine more brightly when he was near.
But Velzard, proud and wise, remained steadfast. She had confided in Guy Crimson — the Mediator and Supreme Demon Lord — telling him that Varvatos had embarked on a mission only he could fulfill.
Guy, ever the perceptive, narrowed his crimson eyes, gave a sharp smile, and said,
"Tch, that monster of a man… Whatever he's doing, it'll be worth it. We'll keep things steady here."
Meanwhile, rumors began to swirl among the kingdoms and empires of the world.
Whispers among kings, lords, and tyrants spread like wildfire:
"The Great Guardian Varvatos is gone… perhaps Nyvaris is vulnerable now..."
"Maybe the barrier weakened… maybe, just maybe, we can claim the sacred city for ourselves!"
Their ambitions, fueled by greed and shortsightedness, pushed many to send scouts, even small armies toward the barrier.
But they were met with an undeniable truth — the barrier not only remained... it had grown stronger.
Those who approached with ill intent found themselves rejected, hurled away as if the very world itself rejected their existence.
The righteous and the innocent, however, were welcomed warmly, as Nyvaris continued to prosper.
Thus, the world learned to fear and respect Varvatos' legacy even in his absence.
In a world not connected to the Cardinal World, a different story was unfolding.
Satoru Mikami was a simple man —
a 37-year-old working tirelessly as a General Contractor in bustling Japan.
He lived a mundane, if not lonely, existence.
No wife. No children.
Just the simple joys of work, games, and occasional dinners with coworkers.
"Man, I think I'm gonna die a virgin..."
he would sometimes joke, laughing with a carefreeness that masked a lingering emptiness.
One bright afternoon, while walking the streets after a simple lunch with a junior colleague, fate struck.
A sudden scream.
A glint of steel.
In an instant, Satoru pushed his friend aside, only to feel a searing pain pierce his side.
He had been stabbed.
The world blurred as he collapsed to the ground.
As life ebbed away, a strange calmness washed over him.
"Damn... What a lame way to go… I didn't even get to touch a girl once."
He chuckled weakly as darkness consumed him.
But death was not the end.
He became aware of a strange warmth.
No sound.
No sight.
No smell.
Just a profound sense of floating.
Suddenly, he heard a voice —
a calm, mechanical tone within his mind:
[Unique Skill: Great Sage acquired.]
Confused but intrigued, he instinctively called out in his mind:
"What the hell...? Where am I?"
"Am I dead?"
"What's happening to me?!"
The voice, unwavering, responded:
[You have perished in your original world. Reincarnation has been triggered by a series of unique conditions.]
He tried to open his eyes — he couldn't.
He tried to move his legs — they weren't there.
Panic gripped him at first, but the Great Sage immediately suppressed his rising fear, calming his mind.
Through careful analysis and self-examination guided by Great Sage, Satoru came to a shocking realization:
He had been reincarnated.
But... not as a human.
"Wait. Wait, wait, wait —
WHAT?"
He was a slime.
A formless, gelatinous creature.
As time passed in this strange new existence, Satoru adapted.
His body was small, elastic, and surprisingly durable.
He quickly discovered he could absorb and analyze things through contact, and he had unique abilities far beyond a normal creature.
The world he was reborn into was called Tensura, a part of the Cardinal World itself —
a vast land filled with magic, dragons, Demon Lords beyond human comprehension.
Through the Great Sage, he learned about magicules, the building blocks of power.
He became aware that he was in a forest teeming with monsters.
He realized he had entered a world that, while beautiful, was also merciless.
"Alright... If I'm stuck like this, then I might as well make the most of it."
"Maybe being a slime won't be so bad."
he thought, with an adventurous smile — even if he had no mouth.
Thus began the legendary journey of Satoru Mikami —
a man turned slime, in a world still unknowingly protected by Varvatos' unseen legacy.