The world around him was an endless ocean of darkness.
Satoru — no, now simply a slime — slowly slid across the rocky, uneven ground.
He could not see in the normal sense, but through a form of magical sense bestowed by his new body, he perceived his surroundings.
The cave was immense, far larger than he could comprehend at first.
Stalactites hung like the fangs of ancient beasts above, and underground rivers whispered in the distance, echoing through the vast halls of stone.
He didn't know it yet, but this cave — this labyrinthine sanctuary — was located deep within the lands of Nyvaris.
The land Varvatos had once blessed.
The land now protected by his barrier — still untouched, pure, sacred.
Every so often, small, ambient magicalules would flicker like fireflies in the air, illuminating patches of glittering minerals on the cave walls.
"Man... How long do I have to keep wandering around here?"
"I can't even feel hungry... but this is still lonely as hell."
Satoru thought to himself, his jelly-like body trembling slightly.
[Suggestion: Acquire materials to analyze and evolve abilities.]
Great Sage's voice rang out in his mind, clear and emotionless.
"Right... Might as well try!"
With new determination, Satoru began absorbing small plants, minerals, and even dead insects scattered throughout the cave.
Each time he consumed something, he gained knowledge — the structure, the composition, the essence of the material.
He was learning.
Growing.
Little did he know, this cave held more than just rocks and dust.
Powerful beings dwelled here, some slumbering for centuries, others prowling silently.
But for now, the tiny slime moved onwards — toward a destiny greater than he could imagine.
Far beyond the Cardinal World.
Far beyond even the highest skies of existence.
In the realm where gods tread, Varvatos stood.
The divine trials had tested him in ways no mortal could endure:
Battles against the Time Serpents of Eternity
Solving riddles posed by the Keepers of Cosmic Balance
Surviving the River of Causality that erased even memories
He had conquered them all.
And now, before him, stood the Supreme Deity —
The one who wove the fabric of the Tensura Universe itself.
Veldanava.
He was a being of indescribable majesty.
Eyes like twin galaxies.
Wings of pure existence.
A smile that could birth worlds or annihilate them with a thought.
"You have done well, Varvatos,"
Veldanava spoke, his voice resounding like a chorus of a million stars singing in perfect harmony.
Varvatos stood before him, the aura around him so dense it caused the space around to shimmer.
"Thank you , Veldanava,"
Varvatos replied, his voice filled with reverence and strength.
Veldanava raised his hand.
From his palm manifested a crystalline orb, shimmering with colors unseen by mortal eyes.
It pulsed with the beat of the universe itself.
"I bestow upon you the Keys of the Universe,"
"With them, you shall command the Voice of the World, restore the broken Skill System, and safeguard the flow of existence itself."
As Veldanava placed the orb within Varvatos' chest, a flood of unimaginable power surged through him.
The past, present, and future —
all laid bare before his sight.
He saw the birth of the Cardinal World,
the wars of old,
the rise of Demon Lords,
the clash of Dragons,
the loneliness of Velzard,
the ambitions of kings and the hopes of peasants.
He saw the very moment a certain man, Satoru Mikami,
a humble worker, was slain... and reborn as a slime within Nyvaris' depths.
"So much has happened... And I was gone for so long..."
Varvatos whispered, feeling the weight of time itself pressing upon his soul.
Veldanava smiled, his gaze filled with ancient kindness.
"There are many worlds, Varvatos."
"Each universe has its own God, its own protector."
"With the power you now hold, you are more than a mere mortal champion."
"You are now the chosen Guardian of the Cardinal World."
Varvatos nodded once more, his heart burning with purpose.
He would return.
Not as merely the protector of Nyvaris...
But as a true god-king of the Cardinal World.
And nothing — not even the enemies lurking across universes — would stop him.
Back within the darkness of the cave,
Satoru continued his slow crawl.
His senses had grown sharper.
He could feel the ripples of magic in the air — faint trails of monsters moving nearby.
Suddenly, he froze.
Something large — no, huge — was approaching.
A pair of giant centipedes, each larger than a man, wriggled through the cavern ahead.
Their carapaces gleamed darkly, and their fanged maws dripped with venom.
"Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap."
Satoru panicked.
But Great Sage was there:
[Suggestion: Engage using Predator Skill to absorb and analyze.]
"P-Predator!? I'm just a little slime!!"
"How do I even FIGHT!?"
[Predator Skill automatically engages upon contact. Probability of success: 82%.]
With no time to think, Satoru lunged — or rather, flopped — toward one of the giant insects.
The centipede screeched and lashed at him, but Satoru's body absorbed the blow, his jelly-like form wobbling but unharmed.
In that instant, Predator activated.
The slime's body enveloped the centipede's head —
a grotesque, surreal sight —
and within moments, the creature's struggles ceased.
It was consumed whole.
[Analysis complete. New skills acquired: Poison Resistance, Enhanced Senses.]
Satoru trembled with excitement.
"Holy crap! I can get stronger by eating things!?"
The other centipede, sensing danger, hissed and charged —
but now, Satoru was ready.
The snowy winds of Nyvaris whispered across the ancient mountains, singing songs of eternity and waiting.
The once-lively palace built at the heart of the domain still stood proud, shining under the silver skies.
But within its halls, there was an emptiness.
A silence where once laughter and warmth had reigned.
Velzard, the proud White Ice Dragon, sat upon the throne Varvatos had entrusted to her.
Her usual cold, commanding demeanor was... softer now.
The years without him had changed something inside her — an ache she could neither suppress nor fully understand.
The great gates of the palace opened.
A familiar presence entered, one who had visited countless times since Varvatos had disappeared into the realm of the gods.
Elmesia El-Ru Sarion — the Empress of Sarion herself — gracefully stepped inside, her royal garments trailing behind her like rivers of silk.
Velzard narrowed her eyes slightly, her lips forming a thin line.
"You again..."
Velzard muttered under her breath, though there was no malice — only a tired acceptance.
Elmesia smiled warmly, undeterred.
"Of course. It's been a month since my last visit. Surely you missed my company, Velzard?"
Velzard scoffed, folding her arms.
"Hmph. I am the White Ice Dragon. I need no one's company."
Elmesia giggled behind a gloved hand, a soft, musical sound that echoed through the cold halls.
"Yet you never once told me to leave."
"Admit it, Velzard — you've grown fond of me."
Velzard huffed, looking away, the faintest hint of pink dusting her cheeks.
"I merely tolerate your presence... for the sake of Varvatos."
Elmesia's eyes softened at the mention of his name.
"Still no word...?"
Her voice was quieter now, tinged with sadness.
Velzard shook her head, her silver hair shimmering like falling snow.
"Nothing. Not a whisper. Not a sign."
"It's as if he vanished from this world altogether."
The two women stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their mutual worry settling between them like an invisible chain.
Finally, Elmesia approached the dais, stopping just a few steps away from Velzard.
"Do you believe he'll come back?"
She asked, looking up with a mixture of hope and vulnerability rarely seen from an Empress.
Velzard looked down at her, expression unreadable.
"...He is Varvatos."
"He will return. I would tear apart the heavens themselves if he did not."
A fierce, absolute conviction burned in Velzard's voice.
For a brief moment, Elmesia could almost see the terrifying dragon within her.
And somehow... that brought her comfort.
"Then I'll wait with you."
Elmesia said, offering a small, genuine smile.
Velzard blinked — startled — but then...
Slowly...
Ever so slightly...
She nodded.
Maybe — just maybe — they weren't rivals after all.
Maybe they were... friends.
In their own way.
Some time later, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed in the frozen courtyard.
A deep, familiar voice called out, rough yet warm.
"Oi, Velzard! Elmesia! Still freezing your tails off in there?"
The massive doors opened once more, revealing a sturdy figure clad in ornate, rune-engraved armor.
Gazel Dwargo, King of the Dwarves.
Velzard raised an eyebrow.
"You again, Gazel?"
"Getting sentimental in your old age?"
Gazel barked a laugh, slapping the snow from his boots.
"Tch. Not sentimental. Just curious."
"That bastard Varvatos... he still hasn't shown his face, has he?"
Elmesia shook her head gently.
"We would have known immediately if he had."
"His return wouldn't go unnoticed — even the stars would celebrate."
Gazel grunted, his expression softening slightly.
"I ain't the type to pray to the heavens... but I've been hopin' he'd come back."
"That damn fool... He still owes me a drink, y'know."
He crossed his arms, looking out across the icy fields stretching beyond the palace.
Velzard tilted her head slightly.
"You speak as if you cared, old dwarf."
Gazel snorted.
"Course I care, you dragon icicle."
"That man was a true friend. Maybe the only one outside my kin I could trust to watch my back in a fight."
There was a deep honesty in his words — the kind only forged in battles and blood.
Velzard's gaze softened — just a fraction — at the raw emotion she heard.
And Elmesia, too, lowered her gaze, the weight of their shared bond settling like a quiet flame in her heart.
"He'll return."
Elmesia whispered, almost to herself.
"He must."
Velzard finally rose from her throne, descending the steps with a regal grace that made the floor frost beneath her bare feet.
"He will return."
"And when he does..."
She paused, smiling — a rare, breathtaking sight.
"...We'll be ready to welcome him back."
Outside, the endless snow fell gently across Nyvaris.
The winds carried their silent prayers to the distant stars.
And somewhere beyond mortal reach —
Varvatos, now bearing the Keys of Creation itself, stirred.
The time of return grew near.
But before that...
In the deep cave below, the story of a tiny slime was about to take a fateful turn.