The morning sun spilled gold across the spires of Nyvaris, the capital city now teeming with life and arcane light. From the high balcony of the imperial palace, Rimuru Tempest stood beside the Supreme One, Varvatos, gazing upon the bustling streets below. Gardens bloomed in impossible hues around them, and children's laughter echoed faintly from the new Windmill District amusement park on the outskirts of the city. Far below, caravans and air-ships from distant lands unloaded exotic goods on the piers of Nyvaris's glittering harbor. Rimuru smoothed his cravat, pride warming his chest. "The reports were right," he murmured. "Our trade routes are busier than ever."
Varvatos, the ageless sage with silver hair and robes embroidered with ancient glyphs, nodded gravely. "Under your guidance, this kingdom has become a beacon."
His eyes twinkled as he watched a party of nobles riding proudly by in a procession—
Rimuru smiled. "Allied families have been visiting almost daily," he said. "And many are staying longer. Some have even leased land to build manors and farms." He pointed across the river to a newly fenced estate where a Rajan noblewoman inspected workers planting magical herb seeds. "See there, Princess Hiiro of Raja, helping plant the medicinal shade-shrooms we supplied. And beyond her, Landon Duke Alben is signing the lease on that far meadow."
In the Golden Court of Nyvaris, a marble hall with enchanted stained-glass windows showing scenes from the old Jura Forest, Rimuru held an audience with dignitaries from Raja, Filtwood, and Siltrosso. Garuda-mounts and griffin banners of these distant kingdoms flanked them. Queen Towa of Raja, regal in royal blue and embroidered lotus motifs, clasped Rimuru's hands warmly. "Your Highness, your magical med-potions have saved countless lives in our mountain valleys," she said, bowing. Her young heir, Princess Hiiro, grinned shyly. On Rimuru's side stood Varvatos, as mentor, quietly observing the exchange, and Ultima—the studious advisor—flipping through a ledger of trade goods.
An envoy from Siltrosso in silken crimson robes stepped forward next. He presented a large orb of Seablaze Coral, luminescent orange, which pulsed softly in the dim light. "For Nyvaris's healing temples," he explained. "It filters the heaviest poisons." In exchange, the Rossian envoy requested the Tempest Scholars share their new enchantment for weather-proof skyships. "Our caravels were once at risk from storms of the Great North," he said, voice earnest. Testarossa, now director of Nyvaris's School of Clerics and Medicine, inspected the orb and nodded approvingly at Ultima's magical analysis. "We will gladly teach your engineers the glacial ward spells," Rimuru replied, gently taking the orb.
Across the table, the dignitary from Filtwood—an older monk druid with amber eyes—rested a heavy hand on the table. His pupils flickered with curiosity and respect. "Your knowledge of healing is unparalleled, Rimuru-dono," he said. "My people bring you ravens' eye herbs from the Deep Grove, potent for revitalizing mages drained by demon mana. We ask only to learn your technique of enchantment-based agriculture, to grow those very herbs faster and stronger." Rimuru exchanged a glance with Carrera, the compassionate holy knight seated at his side. Carrera gave a gentle nod of agreement. "We will share the secrets of our magicule irrigation," Rimuru agreed, "and in return, every fifth harvest yield is yours."
By afternoon, the agreements were finalized: Nyvaris would supply enchanted medicinal devices and healing elixirs; Raja sent rare minerals and mountain flora; Filtwood offered demon-forged timber and healing herbs; Siltrosso contributed seawater crystals and advanced sea-navigation runes. The treaties signed, Queen Towa smiled brightly. "We are truly partners now," she proclaimed. A photographer illusionist captured the moment for the evening news: Rimuru, Varvatos, Towa, and the delegates standing together under a flower-speckled arch.
Within the magnificent barrier raised by Varvatos—impervious to malice, vigilant against lies, and capable of observing every action within—Nyvaris bloomed with incredible prosperity. The barrier, now expanded, allowed unhindered entry for citizens and nobles from Dwargon, Raja, Filtwood, and Siltrosso, the four nations officially allied with the kingdom. Still, all who entered were required to apply for a stay permit, which ranged from short-term visitor status to permanent residency. The permits varied in requirements:
Tourist Pass (1–2 weeks): Proof of sponsorship by a citizen, purpose of visit, and magical screening.
Merchant License (1 month+): Trade clearance, business registration with Nyvaris Commerce Guild.
Education Visa (multi-year): Sponsorship by an approved institution, academic merit, and cultural compatibility.
Permanent Residency: Vetted history, loyalty oath, and long-term contribution plan to the kingdom.
Each application was reviewed not just by officials, but by the barrier itself—a divine force able to detect deceit or hidden hostility.
Within the bustling Skyspire Market, leaders of the four allied nations regularly visited Nyvaris to exchange rare goods, magical blueprints, and scholarly insights.
King Gazel Dwargo had established a permanent trade embassy, bringing Dwarven blacksmithing manuals and enchanted metals. "With your arcane reactors and our forge-tempered steel, we'll build armor that even a Dragon can't break," he told Rimuru, who chuckled, "As long as we don't accidentally sell it to Milim."
Queen Towa of Raja, meanwhile, established a thriving highland herb trade. Her kingdom's famed sky-lilies were now cultivated within Nyvaris greenhouses to create advanced mana-infused tonics. "We never dreamed our herbs could cure magical exhaustion in Elemental races," said one of her herbal masters. "Your scholars are visionaries."
Filtwood's druids now taught side-by-side with Nyvaris' botanical engineers. "The forest and the arcane must intertwine," murmured Elder Ilven, presenting enchanted bark capable of regenerating magicule veins.
Siltrosso contributed saltfire crystals and abyssal coral—critical ingredients in new cleansing nodes that sterilized diseases with magucule-light. "To think," their ambassador said, "our sea relics now power your medical marvels."
Amusement parks glimmered with magical rides powered by elemental cores. Children from allied nations queued beneath floating lanterns, while flying sweets zipped between booths. Shuna, now Director of Cultural Development, managed the parks with grace and precision. "Laughter is peace," she often said. "This is their sanctuary."
Shion, Head of the Royal Guard, oversaw security with a gentle smile but unyielding presence. "Let them play," she would tell her soldiers, "but if anyone dares harm a child—" Her words were never finished, but the meaning was clear. No crime existed under the barrier's watchful gaze.
The Nyvaris Academy Complex had opened fully, a marvel of magical engineering. Children enrolled in tracks tailored to their skills:
Noble Studies: Etiquette, diplomacy, and leadership, taught by aristocrats from Tempest and Filtwood.
Healing and Medical Arts: Arcane surgery, potion synthesis, and spirit therapy.
Blacksmithing and Enchanting: Runeforging with Dwargon masters.
Engineering and Innovation: Crystal engines, teleport beacons, magical architecture.
Adventuring and Combat: Tactical formations, survival training, and aura control taught by Hakuro and Benimaru.
Benimaru, as Field Marshal, also trained new recruits from allied nations. "We don't train for war," he would say to his students. "We train for peace worth defending."
Hakuro, ever the quiet master, took in orphans and wandering youth, teaching them swordplay with discipline and wisdom.
Diablo, seated atop the Chamber of Judgement, acted as the final arbiter of diplomatic and internal disputes. His decisions, backed by Rimuru, were absolute. "Let no injustice stain Nyvaris," he decreed.
Testarossa, overseeing diplomacy, coordinated new applications from dozens of countries seeking economic or academic alliances. Ultima and Carrera, meanwhile, enforced peace with subtlety and force as needed. Carrera's favorite phrase echoed across the city: "You can bribe me... with cake."
Everyday was busy and lively....
Golden towers bathed in arcane light. Skyrails weave through floating platforms. Mana streams sparkle like rivers of stardust beneath the shimmering dome — the Barrier of the Supreme One.
Citizen from another country:
"They say the barrier surrounding Nyvaris cannot be breached — not by spell, blade, or deceit. It sees all. It hears all. It knows all. It was crafted by Varvatos, the Supreme One. And within it... peace reigns."
A line of travelers from Raja, Filtwood, and Siltrosso waits under a crystal canopy. Permit stations buzz with magical glyphs scanning papers and people. Gobta, wearing an official black and blue uniform with a golden badge, marches forward holding a clipboard.
Gobta (sternly):
"Alright folks, have your permits ready! No permit, no pass. Don't try to sneak in – the barrier sees everything. Even your lunch plans."
A nervous merchant steps forward.
Merchant (sweating):
"Uh... sir, I lost my entry scroll but I swear I applied last week!"
A glow pulses over the merchant from the barrier. A soothing chime follows.
Gobta (nods):
"You're clear. The barrier remembers. Just don't lose it next time, yeah? We don't want Rigur dragging you in for questioning."
Stalls overflowing with glowing herbs, enchanted tools, and crystal-laced garments. Dwarves, elves, and beastkin haggle and exchange goods. King Gazel of Dwargon inspects a crate of enchanted steel while Queen Towa of Raja sips a glowing drink with a smile.
Gazel (grinning):
"You see this alloy? It bends to magic, but holds its shape against dragonfire. Perfect fusion with your reactor cores."
Towa (playful):
"And your smiths finally stopped glaring at our engineers. That's progress."
Merchant from Filtwood (to another):
"Sold two crates of sky-lilies in one morning. That Nyvaris apothecary paid triple the price. Gods bless their booming market."
A massive crystalline dome filled with students. Young nobles, commoners, and even monster-kin take their seats. A Golem professor begins class. Shuna walks through the corridor, gently helping a new student find their room.
Shuna (smiling):
"This wing is for the medical arts. You'll study spirit-based healing and arcane surgery. Don't worry — the teachers are kind... mostly."
Student (wide-eyed):
"Are the rumors true? That some students were healed from cursed wounds here?"
Shuna:
"More than that. Some learned to reverse it."
Benimaru stands atop a platform, overseeing a group of armored students. Hakuro spars silently with a blindfold, teaching four warriors at once. Sweat and mana fill the air.
Benimaru:
"Focus your aura! Strength means nothing if your heart wavers. We defend peace, not chase glory."
A bolt of wind magic flies astray. Benimaru catches it with two fingers.
Benimaru (calmly):
"Try again. This time, breathe."
Hakuro (quietly):
"Control comes from stillness. You must hear the blade before it moves."
Rimuru sits in a sleek obsidian and gold throne. Testarossa stands beside him with a scroll in hand. Ultima leans lazily on a pillar. Carrera twirls a knife of pure light.
Testarossa:
"Petitions from Coleus, Ballachia, and even Ruberios. They seek trade and educational exchange. Should I open negotiations?"
Rimuru (sipping tea):
"Hmm. Let them wait. We move on our terms."
Ultima:
"Ballachia's envoy tried to charm the barrier last week. It paralyzed him with kindness. He cried for three hours."
Carrera (grinning):
"Should've brought cake."
Children play with glowing drones. Families picnic under floating trees. Music from elemental instruments floats in the air. A merchant from Blumund speaks with a guard.
Merchant (awed):
"You've got parks, schools, guards that don't bribe, and kids with wings. This place... it's not real."
Guard (laughing):
"It's very real. And very safe. Thanks to Gobta."
Gobta (marching by):
"Don't litter or I'll personally throw you into the recycling golem!"
Souei kneels before a magical map glowing with runes. Ranga paces beside him.
Souei:
"Four infiltration attempts this week. All failed. The barrier exposed one, and the others... disappeared into their own lies."
Ranga (growling softly):
"Let them try. The Supreme One watches."
Varvatos stands silently, looking down at the glowing city. His presence is overwhelming. Eternal.
Varvatos:
"He who forged the stars now guards a city that surpasses kingdoms. Nyvaris is more than a kingdom... it is a miracle."
"Peace was not given. It was built. And the world would soon learn — to stand with Nyvaris is to stand with destiny."