Singularity (Rimuru x Arifureta)

Interlude | Demon Lord Rimuru

Bitterness and remorse. An insurmountable combination of those two assaulted his exhausted self, far beyond the scope of human endurance. Self-blame and misery overwhelmed him.

He had vivid memories of it. The streets that were normally teeming with active monster races, working orcs, and playing little goblins. All of that was now history, as all that remained was an ashen wasteland. The Jura Forest, which had previously been a sea of greenery, had now been burned to a gray color.

Worse, he discovered the lifeless and soulless corpses of his trusted subordinates, indicating that, while Tempest had long since been destroyed, the mightiest of his inner circle were still alive for a few days before his return.

Diablo was the only survivor.

Perhaps sensing his presence, the demon went straight to his face and apologized profusely for failing his lord, bowing and kneeling as low as he could. He suggested he was punished to the utmost, but he cannot be blamed—who was to blame?

He stared blankly at Shuna's despairing expression, Shion's disfigured body, and Benimaru, whose head was pierced atop the flagless flagpole of Tempest.

They had been dead for a few days, and their souls had long since vanished. Even with all of his wonders and miracles, he cannot reverse true death, the vanquishing of the soul. In a few hours, their bodies would be reduced to magicules.

Countless other monster corpses, including the majority of his friends and closest subordinates, were crucified to rot and nastily arranged in the streets as if to demonstrate dominance and victory.

He kept fighting all this time, not losing hope. The worry for Tempest and his friends, as well as the desire to once again reunite with them.

All his points of motivation got invalidated with the reality before him, as his mind finally reached the breaking point.

Why...?

Despair and regret. His emotions were at odds. Raphael's nigh-omniscience could not save his lord from his mental anguish; his mind had gone numb to save him from complete emotional collapse.

He couldn't even feel the pain because it was too much.

He was enraged.

Oh, he was enraged.

He needed to find someone to vent to, anything.

He raised his hand, preparing to throw a punch at his butler as hard as he could.

He understood it was worthless venting, but he couldn't do anything. The demon did not dare to defend himself, fully prepared to face his lord's wrath.

...

It did not arrive.

Rimuru exhaled a sigh.

It is what it is... He bemoanedly justified himself, the pinnacle of sorrow present on his face.

He was spared of the pleasure of lapsing into insanity due to the sheer degree of torment. He requested that his butler fill in the details, the exact and complete details.

As per Rimuru's request, Diablo—though pained—specified every single detail. He did not wish to see his lord suffer. But he cannot lie in front of him. As such, he honestly delivered the cruel events.

The Scorch Dragon Velgrynd was the one who destroyed Tempest's main forces. Those who remained were taken care of by the single digits of the empire. The men were all killed, the women were exploited, and the children were mercilessly murdered. They were treated as if they were animals.