Ava tem 2

ness, "I suppose any realm we visit does fall under our temporary protection by default."

King Edmaris paled slightly at the implication. "And this protection extends..."

"As far as necessary," Ramiris replied, his smile never wavering though his golden eyes hardened imperceptibly. "Though I'm certain such considerations won't be relevant during our brief stay, given the evident wisdom of neighboring rulers."

The king bowed, recognizing both the warning and the diplomatic exit offered. "Of course. Falmuth values peaceful relations with all its neighbors, including Tempest."

"How enlightened," Ramiris commented approvingly. "Rimuru, your neighbor shows promising diplomatic acumen."

As King Edmaris retreated to confer with his advisors, Rimuru gave Ramiris a sidelong glance. "Was that necessary?"

"Absolutely," Ramiris confirmed without hesitation. "Mortal kingdoms require clear boundaries. We've just saved you months of potential border tensions with a two-minute conversation."

Before their discussion could continue, a commotion erupted outside the hall—raised voices, a crash, and what sounded like guards being thrown bodily aside. The doors burst open with explosive force, revealing a petite figure radiating chaotic divine energy.

"RIMURU!" shouted the newcomer, her pink hair flowing behind her as she stormed in. "Why didn't you tell me you were having a PARTY with SUPER STRONG people?!"

Every maid in the room instantly shifted to defensive positions, power surging as they prepared to protect their master. Rimuru quickly stepped forward, hands raised placatingly.

"Milim! This is a diplomatic function, not a party!"

"Same thing!" the Demon Lord Milim Nava declared, scanning the room with excited eyes until they landed on Ramiris. She froze, her expression shifting from excitement to intense curiosity. "Whoa... you're the one with the REALLY strong aura! Who are you?"

The Falmuth delegation had pressed themselves against the wall, recognizing the infamous Destroyer, while Ramiris merely observed the newcomer with amused interest.

"I am Ramiris, Supreme Monarch of Avalon Evernight," he introduced himself casually. "And you, I presume, are the Demon Lord known as the Destroyer."

"That's me!" Milim grinned widely, approaching without the slightest hesitation despite the palpable tension from the maids. "Your power feels SUPER weird! Not like anything I've felt before!"

"Milim," Rimuru interjected desperately, "now is really not the time—"

"It's quite alright," Ramiris interrupted, his expression shifting to one of intrigued amusement. "Curiosity is natural when faced with the unfamiliar."

He gestured slightly, and his maids relaxed their defensive postures, though they remained watchful. Queen Gilgamesh in particular kept her crimson gaze fixed on Milim with obvious disapproval of the informal interruption.

"So you're like, super strong, right?" Milim asked bluntly, circling Ramiris with undisguised fascination. "Stronger than other Demon Lords?"

"Classifications such as 'Demon Lord' don't quite apply to me," Ramiris replied diplomatically. "I exist somewhat... outside your world's power hierarchy."

"That means you're SUPER strong!" Milim's eyes lit up with battle-hungry excitement. "We should fight! Right now!"

A collective gasp went through the hall. The Falmuth delegation looked ready to flee, while Rimuru made frantic cutting motions across his throat.

"Milim, absolutely NOT! Ramiris is our honored guest, not a sparring partner!"

Ramiris, however, looked more amused than offended. "Your friend has an admirably direct approach to diplomacy."

"This isn't diplomacy," Rimuru groaned. "This is Milim being Milim."

"So?" Milim pressed, ignoring Rimuru completely as she bounced on her toes. "Will you fight me? Just a little match! I promise not to destroy too much!"

The maids exchanged glances ranging from outrage to reluctant amusement. Kali in particular looked intrigued by the prospect, while Tiamat sighed with maternal disapproval.

"Perhaps," Ramiris suggested diplomatically, "we might postpone such energetic exchanges until after our formal gathering has concluded?"

"Aww," Milim pouted. "But I came all this way after feeling your super strong aura!"

"And I'm flattered by your interest," Ramiris assured her. "But proper timing is essential for proper enjoyment, wouldn't you agree?"

Milim considered this, her expression thoughtful. "I guess... but you promise we'll fight later?"

"I promise we'll have a suitable exchange of abilities at an appropriate time and location," Ramiris replied carefully.

"YES!" Milim punched the air victoriously. "It's a promise! No taking it back!"

Rimuru looked profoundly relieved, while King Edmaris and his delegation seemed to be calculating how quickly they could conclude diplomatic negotiations and return to the relative safety of Falmuth.

Chapter 6: The Destroyer's Challenge

The diplomatic reception concluded without further incident, apart from Milim's enthusiastic demolition of the refreshment table and her persistent questions about Ramiris's powers, which he deflected with practiced diplomatic vagueness. King Edmaris departed with hasty assurances of Falmuth's friendship, clearly eager to be away from the volatile combination of Demon Lord Milim and the mysterious visitors.

The following morning, as Rimuru was enjoying a rare quiet moment in his office, a familiar pink-haired whirlwind burst through his window.

"It's LATER now!" Milim announced without preamble. "Where's the super strong guy?"

Rimuru sighed deeply. "Good morning to you too, Milim. I don't suppose you'd consider just letting this go?"

"Nope!" she declared cheerfully. "He promised! And I've been good and patient!"

"It's been twelve hours," Rimuru pointed out.

"Exactly! Super patient!" Milim nodded seriously. "So where is he?"

Before Rimuru could respond, a familiar melodious voice spoke from the doorway. "I believe someone is asking for me?"

Ramiris stood there, once again in his more casual battle attire—black and crimson uniform with the white half-cape draped over one shoulder. Behind him, Kali and Scáthach stood at attention, their expressions suggesting they had been expecting this moment.

"YOU!" Milim pointed excitedly. "Fight time!"

"So direct," Ramiris observed with amusement. "I find it refreshing, actually. Very well, Demon Lord Milim. I did promise an exchange of abilities."

Rimuru looked between them in alarm. "Wait, you're actually going to fight her? Here? Now?"

"Not in your office, certainly," Ramiris replied reasonably. "I believe a suitable location away from populated areas would be appropriate."

"The Sealed Cave area!" Milim suggested eagerly. "It's already all smashed up from previous fights!"

"How pragmatic," Ramiris nodded approvingly. "Very well. Shall we proceed there directly?"

"Yes!" Milim was practically vibrating with excitement. "Right now!"

Rimuru stood hastily. "If this is actually happening, I'm coming too. Someone needs to minimize the collateral damage."

"A wise precaution," agreed Ramiris. He turned to his maids. "Kali, Scáthach, please inform the others that I'll be engaged in a friendly demonstration. No intervention is necessary."

"As you command, Supreme Monarch," Scáthach replied formally, though she exchanged a meaningful glance with Kali.

"Try not to enjoy yourself too much, Dancing King," Kali added with a bloodthirsty grin. "Save some combat joy for the rest of us."

"Always," Ramiris promised with a wink before turning back to Milim. "Shall we, Destroyer?"

"Race you there!" Milim shouted, already launching herself through the window in a blur of pink hair and chaotic energy.

Ramiris chuckled, turning to Rimuru. "She's rather delightful, isn't she? So refreshingly uncomplicated."

"That's one word for it," Rimuru sighed. "Are you sure about this? Milim is the strongest Demon Lord, and she doesn't always hold back well."

"Your concern is touching," Ramiris replied, genuine warmth in his golden eyes. "But please, don't worry. This will be an educational experience for all involved."

With that cryptic assurance, he gestured, and a portal of golden light opened in the middle of Rimuru's office. "Shall we take a more direct route?"

The Sealed Cave area lived up to Milim's description—a wasteland of shattered rock and impact craters from previous battles. By the time Rimuru and Ramiris arrived through the portal, Milim was already floating impatiently above the largest clearing.

"Finally!" she called down. "I thought you got scared!"

"Merely ensuring proper arrangements," Ramiris replied, stepping forward as the portal closed behind them. "I believe in doing things properly."

Several other figures had gathered at a safe distance—Benimaru and Shion had apparently heard about the impending clash and arrived to witness it, along with Veldora in his human form, looking positively giddy at the prospect.

"This is gonna be AWESOME!" the Storm Dragon declared, summoning a comfortable seat made of compressed air to watch from. "Two beings of absurd power going all out!"

"No one said anything about 'all out,'" Rimuru corrected nervously. "This is just a friendly exchange, right?"

Ramiris merely smiled enigmatically as he stepped into the center of the clearing. "Before we begin, Demon Lord Milim, perhaps we should establish some parameters?"

"Parameters?" Milim tilted her head in confusion.

"Rules," Ramiris clarified. "To ensure we both enjoy the experience without unnecessary complications."

"Oh! Sure!" Milim nodded vigorously. "No killing and no destroying Tempest! Everything else is fine!"

"Succinct and practical," Ramiris nodded approvingly. "I would add only that we should avoid dimensional fractures, as those can be rather tedious to repair."

"Dimensional what-now?" Milim asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

"Never mind," Ramiris waved dismissively. "Your terms are acceptable. Shall we begin?"

"YES!" Milim pumped her fist in the air, her aura instantly flaring to devastating levels. Divine energy surged around her as she activated her full Demon Lord form, her eyes shifting to a brilliant magenta as draconic features manifested.

"Drago-Nova!" she called, summoning her full power in a blinding surge of energy that cracked the ground beneath her. "Now I'm ready!"

Ramiris observed this transformation with evident interest, making no move to summon his own power. He simply stood, relaxed and seemingly unprepared, his white half-cape fluttering slightly in the wind of Milim's energy release.

"Aren't you going to power up?" Milim asked, looking slightly confused at his casual stance.

"I suppose I should make some effort," Ramiris agreed reasonably. He closed his eyes briefly, and the air around him... shifted. Not violently, not with explosive force, but with disturbing smoothness—as if reality itself had simply acknowledged his right to command it.

His golden eyes opened, now containing actual galaxies swirling in their depths. A subtle aura of absolute authority emanated from him, but otherwise, he remained unchanged in appearance.

"There," he said simply. "Shall we proceed?"

Milim blinked, clearly expecting something more dramatic. "That's it? No transformation? No special armor or weapon?"

"I find excessive displays rather unnecessary," Ramiris explained with a slight shrug. "But if you insist..."

He snapped his fingers, and his casual battle uniform shimmered, transforming into more elaborate regalia similar to what he had worn at the diplomatic reception—midnight blue fabric containing actual constellations, his half-cape expanding into a flowing mantle of pure authority.

"Better?" he inquired politely.

"Cooler, but still not very battle-ready!" Milim complained. "Where's your weapon?"

"Ah, of course." Ramiris extended his hand, and a sword materialized—elegant yet simple, its blade seeming to exist partially in reality and partially beyond it. "Tyrannis Aeternum: The Blade That Cuts Kings. Will this suffice?"

"Now we're talking!" Milim grinned fiercely. "Ready or not, here I come!"

She launched herself forward with devastating speed, fist cocked back and trailing destructive energy that would have obliterated mountains. The attack was direct, overwhelming, and characteristic of her straightforward combat style.

Ramiris didn't move until the very last instant. Then, with casual grace, he simply... stepped aside. Not quickly, not with supernatural speed, but as if he had always been slightly to the left of where Milim was aiming.

The Demon Lord's attack missed entirely, her momentum carrying her past Ramiris and into a nearby rock formation, which exploded into dust upon impact.

"An enthusiastic opening," Ramiris commented approvingly. "Excellent power projection."

Milim spun in midair, looking more confused than frustrated. "How did you dodge that? I didn't even see you move!"

"A common misconception," Ramiris explained conversationally, as if they were discussing combat theory over tea rather than engaged in battle. "True mastery isn't about moving faster, but about being where you need to be."

"Stop talking and fight me!" Milim demanded, charging up a massive energy blast between her hands. "Wrathful King's Destruction!"

The devastating beam of concentrated divine energy shot toward Ramiris, wide enough to engulf his entire form and carve a trench through the earth behind him. Rather than dodging, he raised his sword casually and simply... cut the beam in half. The halves passed harmlessly to either side of him, vaporizing everything they touched but leaving him completely untouched.

"Interesting technique," he observed. "The conceptual framework is quite sophisticated for this reality."

From the sidelines, Veldora's jaw had dropped. "Did he just... cut energy?"

"Not just energy," Rimuru corrected, his Ultimate Skills allowing him to perceive what others couldn't. "He cut the concept of the attack itself. I've never seen anything like it."

Milim stared in disbelief, then grinned even wider. "You ARE strong! Now I'm getting excited!"

She launched into a flurry of attacks, each more powerful than the last—physical strikes, energy projections, even reality-warping techniques that she rarely used due to their destructive potential. The battlefield became a chaos of explosive energy and shattered earth.

Through it all, Ramiris moved with casual elegance, never seeming hurried or concerned. He dodged when appropriate, deflected when necessary, occasionally countering with touches so light they seemed more like suggestions than attacks. Yet each touch left Milim momentarily disoriented, as if her very connection to her power had hiccupped.

"Are you even trying?" she complained after several minutes of this one-sided exchange. "Fight back for real!"

"My apologies," Ramiris replied sincerely. "I was simply appreciating your technique. Very well—a proper response."

He raised his sword, and the air stilled. With a movement too graceful to be called a strike, he simply... presented the blade, and reality rippled. Milim found herself suddenly frozen in place, not through physical restraint but through something more fundamental—as if the concept of "Milim moves" had been temporarily overwritten by "Milim remains still."

"What—" she began, struggling against the invisible constraint.

"Tyrannis Aeternum," Ramiris explained gently. "It doesn't cut flesh or energy, but victory itself. For a brief moment, your triumph has become conceptually impossible."

He lowered the sword, and Milim found herself able to move again. She stared at him with wide eyes, then broke into a delighted laugh.

"That's AMAZING! Do it again!"

"You... want me to immobilize you again?" Ramiris asked, sounding genuinely surprised for the first time.

"Yes! It felt super weird! Like, tingly but not tingly!" Milim bounced excitedly in midair. "I've never been stopped like that before! It's NEW and INTERESTING!"

Ramiris blinked, then laughed—a warm, genuine sound. "You are truly unique, Demon Lord Milim. Most beings respond to conceptual dominance with fear or anger. You find it... entertaining?"

"Of course! Fighting strong people is the MOST fun!" Milim declared as if this were obvious. "And you're the strongest I've ever met! Which means you're the MOST fun!"

From the sidelines, Rimuru watched this exchange with growing amazement. "She's not even upset that she's completely outmatched. If anything, she's more excited."

"That's Milim for you," Benimaru commented, equally astonished by what they were witnessing. "But I've never seen anyone handle her so... effortlessly."

In the battlefield, Ramiris was regarding Milim with growing appreciation. "Your enthusiasm is refreshing. Most beings with your level of power develop tedious complexes about it."

"That sounds boring," Milim replied frankly. "Power is for having fun and protecting friends!" She paused, studying him curiously. "So, are you going to use your REAL power now? I can tell you're still holding back a LOT."

"Perceptive," Ramiris acknowledged. "But my 'real power,' as you put it, wouldn't be appropriate for a friendly exchange. This reality has certain... structural limitations."

"Aww," Milim pouted. "Not even a little bit more?"

Ramiris considered this, then smiled. "Perhaps a small demonstration would be acceptable."

He closed his eyes briefly, and the air around him shimmered. When he opened them again, the galaxies in his golden irises rotated faster, and a subtle corona of pure authority radiated from his form. He raised his hand—not in attack, but as if offering something.

"Overlord's Drive," he said simply.

The concept of "power" itself seemed to bend around him. The very air became heavy with possibility, as if gravity had been replaced with pure potential. Milim's eyes widened as she felt her own considerable strength responding to his call, not diminishing but somehow acknowledging his as... primary.

"Whoa," she whispered, for once at a loss for words.

Ramiris maintained this state for precisely three seconds before carefully reining it back in. The overwhelming pressure receded, reality settling back into its normal parameters with an almost audible sigh of relief.

"That," he explained quietly, "is approximately two percent of what I could safely manifest in this reality without causing permanent alterations to its fundamental structure."

Milim stared at him, uncharacteristically silent for a long moment. Then, to everyone's shock—including Ramiris's—she dropped to one knee in the air, head bowed.

"Teach me," she said simply.

"I... beg your pardon?" Ramiris replied, genuinely taken aback.

Milim looked up, her eyes burning with determination. "Teach me! I want to learn how to be strong like you! Not just powerful but... whatever that was!"

From the sidelines, Rimuru made a strangled sound of disbelief. "Is Milim... asking to become his student?"

"I believe," Veldora observed with unusual perceptiveness, "she's offering something more significant than that."

Indeed, Milim had descended to ground level and was now properly kneeling before Ramiris, her usual boundless energy focused into solemn purpose.

"In all my existence," she declared, "I've never met anyone worthy of my service. But you—" she looked up at him with absolute conviction, "—you are worthy. Let me serve you as one of your maids!"

A profound silence fell over the battlefield. Even the dust seemed to freeze in midair.

Ramiris studied her thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. "You understand what you're asking? Service in my court is not a casual arrangement or temporary apprenticeship. It is a fundamental acknowledgment of authority."

"I know," Milim nodded seriously. "I saw how your maids look at you. They're super strong but they chose to serve you because you're worthy. I want that too!"

For perhaps the first time since his arrival, Ramiris appeared genuinely surprised. He glanced toward the observers, his eyes meeting Rimuru's.

"Your friend makes an unexpected offer," he remarked. "Would her service to my court create diplomatic complications for Tempest?"

"I... don't think so?" Rimuru replied, still processing the shocking turn of events. "Milim is an independent Demon Lord. She's our ally but not under Tempest's authority."

"I can do what I want!" Milim confirmed proudly. "And I want to be your maid!"

Ramiris turned back to her, his expression softening into something between amusement and genuine appreciation. "Your directness continues to be refreshing. Very well, Demon Lord Milim Nava. I accept your service to the court of Avalon Evernight."

He extended his hand, and golden light spiraled around his fingers. "Rise and receive the mark of my court."

Milim bounced to her feet with barely contained excitement. "Do I get one of those cool uniforms too?"

"Naturally," Ramiris confirmed, a smile playing at his lips. "Each maid's attire reflects her essential nature and power. Yours would be..."

He studied her thoughtfully, then gestured. Light shimmered around Milim, and her typical revealing outfit transformed. She now wore an elegantly modified maid uniform in shades of pink and black, with draconic motifs subtly incorporated into the design. Despite being more coverage than her usual attire, it somehow enhanced rather than diminished her presence, making her destructive power seem more focused and refined.

"Whoa!" Milim spun in place, admiring her new appearance. "It's so PRETTY! And I can still fight super well in it!"

"Of course," Ramiris nodded. "Form follows function in my court. Now, for your title..."

He considered for a moment, then smiled. "Milim Nava, Berserker of Joy. Your role shall be to remind my court of the simple pleasure in overwhelming power, properly applied."

"Berserker of Joy," Milim repeated, testing the title. "I LOVE IT!"

From the sidelines, Rimuru watched this unprecedented development with a mixture of amazement and concern. "Did that really just happen? Did Milim just... join his court?"

"It appears so," Veldora confirmed, looking equally astonished. "Though I must say, the title suits her perfectly."

As if reading their thoughts, Ramiris turned toward the observers. "Fear not, Master of Tempest. Milim's alliance with your federation remains intact. Service in my court does not erase existing bonds—it merely adds new ones."

"Well, that's... good to know," Rimuru managed.

Milim bounced over to her friends, her new uniform somehow making her exuberant movements seem elegant rather than chaotic. "Look at my awesome new clothes! And I have a title and everything! Berserker of Joy! Isn't that PERFECT?"

"It's certainly... you," Rimuru agreed cautiously. "But Milim, are you sure about this? You just pledged service to someone you met yesterday."

"Sometimes you just KNOW," Milim replied with absolute conviction. "Like how I knew you were going to be my best friend when we met! Some things you feel right away!"

Ramiris approached more sedately, his sword having vanished and his attire returned to its more casual battle uniform. "Your concern for your friend is admirable, Demon Lord Rimuru. Rest assured, service in my court is not servitude. Each maid maintains her individual nature and existing connections."

"So this isn't like... ownership?" Rimuru clarified.

"Certainly not," Ramiris looked mildly offended at the suggestion. "It is recognition of authority freely given. Milim remains Milim—now simply with a more refined focus for her considerable abilities."

"And a much better outfit," Milim added, still admiring her new uniform. "When do I get to meet the other maids? Do I get my own room in the floating city? Can I still visit Rimuru whenever I want?"

"Yes to all," Ramiris assured her with unexpected patience. "Though perhaps we should return to Tempest and introduce you to your new colleagues first. I imagine Queen Gilgamesh's expression alone will be worth the entire trip to this reality."

"Let's go RIGHT NOW!" Milim grabbed his arm excitedly, an action that would have earned anyone else a warning from the watching maids. Ramiris, however, merely chuckled.

"Your enthusiasm continues to be delightful. Very well, Berserker of Joy. Let us return and share the news of your appointment."

He opened a portal of golden light with a casual gesture. Before stepping through, he turned back to the stunned observers with a wink. "I believe our cultural exchange just became considerably more interesting, wouldn't you agree?"

With that parting comment, he escorted his newest and most unexpected maid through the portal, leaving behind a battlefield remarkably intact considering the powers involved—and several witnesses still struggling to process what they had just observed.

Chapter 7: The Newest Maid

The arrival of Ramiris and Milim at the pavilions caused an immediate sensation among the maids of Avalon Evernight. The sight of the Demon Lord proudly wearing a maid uniform and practically bouncing with excitement left most of them speechless.

Queen Gilgamesh was the first to recover, her crimson eyes widening before narrowing in disbelief. "My Glorious Ramiris, surely this is some form of jest?"

"Not at all, my treasure keeper," Ramiris replied cheerfully. "Allow me to introduce the newest member of our court: Milim Nava, Berserker of Joy."

"Hi everyone!" Milim waved enthusiastically. "I'm super strong and I love honey and fighting and now I'm a maid!"

Tiamat approached with maternal curiosity, studying the newcomer with ancient eyes. "Interesting. A true dragonoid with divine lineage, if I'm not mistaken. Your aura carries echoes of creation almost as old as my own."

"You can tell that just by looking?" Milim asked, impressed. "That's amazing! What else can you do?"

While Tiamat patiently answered Milim's barrage of questions, the other maids gathered around Ramiris, their reactions ranging from curiosity to concern to thinly veiled amusement.

"A rather... unconventional addition to our court, Dancing King," observed Kali with a predatory smile. "Though her combat potential is undeniable."

"Sometimes the most valuable perspectives come from unexpected sources," Ramiris replied. "Her approach to power is refreshingly uncomplicated."

Void Shiki, typically silent, surprised everyone by offering her own assessment. "She exists fully in each moment. No past regrets, no future anxieties. There is wisdom in such simplicity."

"See?" Ramiris gestured toward the typically taciturn maid. "Even our Silent Watcher sees her value."

Queen Gilgamesh remained skeptical. "She seems rather... energetic for our court's typical decorum."

"Which is precisely why her presence will be beneficial," Ramiris countered smoothly. "We've existed for eons in perfect harmony. A little chaos keeps eternity interesting."

As if to prove his point, Milim had already managed to drag Arcueid into an animated discussion about their respective battle techniques, both powerful beings comparing notes with childlike enthusiasm.

"And then I go WHOOSH and everything explodes!" Milim was explaining, complete with dramatic hand gestures. "But your sword thing sounds SUPER cool too! Can you show me?"

"Not without violating our agreement regarding property damage," Arcueid replied with a wink. "But maybe during our next interdimensional excursion!"

BB bounced over to join them, her typical mischief finding natural resonance with Milim's energy. "Oooh, a new playmate! And one who appreciates proper destruction techniques! We're going to have so much fun together!"

Ramiris watched these interactions with evident satisfaction. "You see? Already finding her place among us."

Scáthach approached, her expression thoughtful as she observed the new maid. "Her combat style is pure instinct—unrefined but remarkably effective. With proper training, she could become truly formidable."

"I suspect that's part of what drew her to us," Ramiris nodded. "Beneath the enthusiasm is a desire for growth and purpose."

"Much like many of us when we first entered your service, Supreme Monarch," Scáthach acknowledged with a rare smile.

Meanwhile, Milim had begun a tour of the pavilions, marveling at their impossible architecture and the casual reality-bending elements that the maids considered mundane comforts.

"This is SO COOL!" she exclaimed, poking at a light fixture that contained actual captured starlight. "Everything is all sparkly and impossible! Do I get my own pavilion too?"

"Of course," Tiamat assured her. "Each maid's quarters reflect her essential nature. Yours will manifest according to your true self."

As if triggered by these words, the ground near the other pavilions began to shimmer. A new structure took form—vibrant and dynamic where the others were elegant and serene. Milim's pavilion materialized as a whimsical fusion of draconic motifs and playful energy, with crystal walls that shifted colors according to her emotions and furniture that somehow looked both comfortable and indestructible.

"IT'S PERFECT!" Milim shouted, diving into her new quarters to explore every corner. "Look! There's even a special honey dispenser!"

Queen Gilgamesh sighed deeply. "The tranquility of our court will never be the same."

"Change keeps us from stagnation, my treasure keeper," Ramiris reminded her gently. "Even you were considered a disruptive influence when you first joined our ranks."

"That was entirely different," she protested, though a faint blush colored her cheeks. "I maintained proper dignity from the beginning."

"You challenged me to single combat and declared you would use my entrails as decorative ribbon," Ramiris reminded her with a fond smile.

"As I said—proper dignity," Queen Gilgamesh sniffed, though her lips twitched with suppressed amusement.

Their conversation was interrupted by Milim's reappearance, now clutching what appeared to be an ornate staff that had manifested in her pavilion. "What does this do? It feels all tingly and powerful!"

Ramiris examined the weapon with interest. "Ah, the court has provided you with a focus for your abilities. In keeping with your role as Berserker of Joy, it appears to be a Scepter of Ecstatic Destruction."

"Ecstatic Destruction? That sounds AWESOME!" Milim twirled the scepter experimentally, causing alarming sparks of chaotic energy to fly from its tip.

"Perhaps outdoor testing would be advisable," suggested Tiamat hurriedly, guiding Milim toward a more open area away from the pavilions.

As the newest maid was led away for a crash course in her new equipment, Ramiris turned to find Rimuru approaching, his expression a mixture of amusement and concern.

"Your court seems to be adapting to its newest member with remarkable flexibility," the Demon Lord observed.

"Adaptation is essential for eternal beings," Ramiris replied. "Those who cannot embrace change eventually crumble under the weight of their own rigidity."

"Philosophical," Rimuru noted. "But I'm more concerned with the practical aspects. Milim is a force of nature on her best days. As part of your court..."

"You fear her destructive tendencies might be enhanced rather than contained," Ramiris finished for him. "A reasonable concern, but unnecessary. Service in my court brings focus, not amplification. Her power remains the same—her application of it will simply become more... refined."

As if to directly contradict his statement, a massive explosion erupted from the practice area, followed by Milim's delighted laughter and hurried apologies from Tiamat.

Ramiris winced slightly. "Eventually. Refinement is, admittedly, a process rather than an immediate transformation."

"That's what worries me," Rimuru sighed. "Milim plus new powers equals..."

"An adjustment period," Ramiris supplied diplomatically. "But fear not—my court has extensive experience with integrating powerful new members. Remember, we once domesticated Queen Gilgamesh, who destroyed three minor realities during her first week of service."

"That's not as reassuring as you might think," Rimuru replied dryly.

Their conversation was interrupted by Milim's return, her uniform slightly singed but her enthusiasm undimmed. "Did you SEE THAT? The scepter thing amplifies my magic by connecting it to... what did you call it, Tiamat?"

"Conceptual resonance," supplied the maternal goddess, looking slightly frazzled. "Though perhaps we should work on control before further power enhancement."

"But bigger explosions are more FUN!" Milim protested.

"And knowing when not to create them is the mark of true mastery," Ramiris interjected smoothly. "

A truly powerful being knows when restraint demonstrates greater authority than destruction."

Milim's eyes widened with sudden understanding. "Ohhh! Like how you didn't use your full power against me even though you could have blown up everything!"

"Precisely," Ramiris nodded approvingly. "Power without purpose is merely chaos. Power with purpose becomes authority."

"That's... actually quite profound," Rimuru admitted, surprised by the thoughtful lesson.

Milim considered this seriously, her typical boundless energy momentarily focused on understanding. "So being your maid means learning when NOT to smash things? That's... different."

"Among other lessons," Ramiris confirmed with a gentle smile. "Though rest assured, there will be plenty of appropriate opportunities for smashing things."

"YES!" Milim pumped her fist excitedly, immediately reverting to her usual enthusiasm. "Best! Job! Ever!"

Queen Gilgamesh approached, having apparently resigned herself to the newest addition. "If the Berserker of Joy is to properly represent our court, she must learn proper etiquette and protocols. I shall oversee her training in court ceremonies."

Milim's expression fell slightly. "Court... ceremonies? Like standing still and being quiet and stuff?"

"Indeed," the queen confirmed with imperious satisfaction. "The proper forms of address, ceremonial positions, ritual responses—all essential knowledge for a maid of Avalon Evernight."

Seeing Milim's growing dismay, Ramiris intervened smoothly. "Perhaps a balanced approach? Combat training with Kali and Scáthach, conceptual studies with Tiamat and Void Shiki, and... abbreviated ceremonial instruction with Queen Gilgamesh."

"Abbreviated?" The queen's crimson eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Streamlined," Ramiris amended diplomatically. "Focusing on essentials rather than the full seventeen tiers of court protocol."

Queen Gilgamesh considered this, then sighed in resignation. "I suppose the abbreviated seven-tier protocol would be... acceptable for a beginner."

"Seven tiers sounds like a lot," Milim whispered to Rimuru.

"You did ask to join his court," Rimuru reminded her unsympathetically.

"Worth it!" Milim declared without hesitation. "I'll learn all the boring stuff if it means I get to be part of something this AMAZING!"

As arrangements for Milim's training continued, the pavilions became a hive of activity. Each maid seemed to have opinions on how the newest member should be instructed, leading to lively debates about proper curriculum design.

"Physical combat fundamentals must come first," insisted Kali, her bloodthirsty aura flaring with enthusiasm. "She has raw power but lacks technical refinement."

"Conceptual understanding is the foundation," countered Tiamat. "Without grasping the nature of authority itself, all other lessons lack context."

"Honey breaks first, then training!" contributed Milim helpfully, earning varied reactions from her new colleagues.

Through it all, Ramiris observed with evident amusement, occasionally offering guidance but largely allowing his court to integrate their newest member in their own way. The natural hierarchy among the maids became apparent—with Tiamat, Queen Gilgamesh, and Void Shiki forming a senior tier that even the exuberant Milim instinctively deferred to.

"Your court has a fascinating social structure," Rimuru observed as he watched Arcueid and BB enthusiastically showing Milim how to properly adjust her uniform for optimal battle readiness. "Not quite what I expected from beings of such power."

"What did you expect?" Ramiris inquired curiously. "Constant power struggles? Cosmic one-upmanship?"

"Something like that," Rimuru admitted. "Most powerful beings I've encountered are somewhat... territorial."

"A limitation of perspective," Ramiris explained, watching his maids with evident affection. "True power eventually transcends petty competition. My court functions as a harmonious ecosystem precisely because each member has found her proper place within it."

"And Milim's place is...?"

"To remind us of joy in its purest form," Ramiris replied without hesitation. "Entities as ancient as most of my court risk forgetting the simple pleasure of existence. Milim experiences life with unfiltered enthusiasm—a quality more precious than she realizes."

Their philosophical discussion was interrupted by a commotion from the training area, where Milim had apparently convinced Kali to demonstrate a basic combat technique that was proving considerably less "basic" than advertised. The resulting energy discharge sent ripples of power across Tempest, causing momentary alarm among the citizens.

"Perhaps some boundaries regarding training locations might be advisable," Rimuru suggested diplomatically.

"Agreed," Ramiris sighed. "Kali tends to get carried away when she finds an enthusiastic student."

He approached the training area, where Kali and Milim stood in the center of a newly formed crater, both looking distinctly unapologetic.

"Commander of Combat," Ramiris addressed Kali with gentle reproof, "perhaps the Mountain Range of Trembling Earth would be more suitable for demonstrations of destructive techniques?"

"As you command, Supreme Monarch," Kali acknowledged with a bow that didn't quite hide her battle-hungry grin. "Though the Berserker shows remarkable aptitude. Her instinctive understanding of destructive principles is truly impressive."

"She said I'm a natural destroyer!" Milim reported proudly. "Which I already knew, but it's nice to be appreciated!"

"Indeed," Ramiris agreed, his tone warm despite the disciplinary context. "However, appreciation must be balanced with consideration for our hosts. Tempest has been generous in accommodating our visit."

"Oh!" Milim looked suddenly contrite. "Sorry, Rimuru! I didn't mean to break your city!"

"Just a small crater," Rimuru replied with the resignation of someone long accustomed to Milim-related property damage. "Though perhaps taking the more... explosive training elsewhere would be appreciated."

"Of course!" Milim nodded vigorously. "Kali says there are special training dimensions where we can go all out without breaking reality! Can we go there? Please, please, PLEASE?"

Ramiris considered this request. "A training excursion might indeed be appropriate. Tiamat, would you be willing to oversee an interdimensional classroom for our newest member?"

The Mother of Creation approached, her serene presence immediately calming the excited energy around Milim. "It would be my pleasure, Beloved King. I shall prepare a suitable pocket dimension with proper containment protocols."

"Yay! Pocket dimension training!" Milim bounced excitedly. "When do we start?"

"Preparations will require approximately one day," Tiamat explained patiently. "Until then, perhaps you might benefit from theoretical instruction with Void Shiki."

Milim's enthusiasm dimmed slightly. "Is theoretical instruction like... sitting still and listening to boring stuff?"

"It involves understanding the fundamental nature of existence itself," Void Shiki corrected as she materialized silently beside them, her empty blue eyes regarding Milim with unusual interest. "The void within mirrors the void without. To truly master destruction, one must comprehend its opposite."

"That sounds... complicated," Milim admitted. "But if it helps me get stronger, I'll try!"

"Such dedication," Queen Gilgamesh commented with only mild sarcasm as she joined the group. "Perhaps there's hope for her yet."

"I've always found that proper motivation reveals unexpected potential," Ramiris observed. "Our Berserker of Joy simply requires the right framing for her education."

As if to demonstrate this principle, he turned to Milim with a thoughtful expression. "Consider it a challenge, Berserker. Master the theoretical foundations, and I shall personally teach you one of my combat techniques."

Milim's eyes widened to almost comical proportions. "For real? One of YOUR techniques? The super cool reality-breaking ones?"

"A simplified version suitable for this dimensional plane," Ramiris clarified. "But yes, essentially."

"I'LL DO IT!" Milim declared with newfound determination. She turned to Void Shiki with unexpected seriousness. "Teach me everything! I'll be the best student ever!"

Void Shiki's lips curved in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "We shall begin immediately. Your enthusiasm is... refreshing."

As Milim followed the embodiment of nothingness toward a quiet meditation area, her posture uncharacteristically composed, Rimuru shook his head in amazement.

"I've never seen anyone motivate Milim to study theoretical anything," he admitted. "Usually it's all practical application with her—mostly in the form of punching things."

"Proper incentives are key to education at any level," Ramiris replied with a wink. "Even for Demon Lords."

Chapter 8: Cultural Fusion

Over the following days, Tempest adapted to the presence of its otherworldly visitors with surprising ease. Citizens grew accustomed to the sight of elegantly uniformed maids exploring their city, asking curious questions about everything from cooking techniques to magical theory. What had initially inspired terror gradually transformed into a unique cultural exchange, with knowledge flowing in both directions.

In the central marketplace, Tiamat had established what the locals now called the "Garden of Wisdom"—a small pavilion where she shared insights on agricultural techniques that worked harmoniously with natural energy flows. Farmers and druids gathered daily for her lessons, marveling at the gentle way she corrected misunderstandings about fundamental life forces.

"The key is not domination of nature," she explained to a rapt audience, "but partnership with its essential patterns. Magic should enhance what already exists rather than impose what does not belong."

Nearby, Queen Gilgamesh had reluctantly become something of a sensation among Tempest's merchants and crafters. Her critical standards were exacting, but her praise—rare though it was—carried such weight that receiving it had become a mark of exceptional quality.

"This metalwork shows primitive but effective understanding of spiritual resonance," she informed a dwarven smith, examining a ceremonial blade. "Hardly comparable to divine craftsmanship, of course, but commendable for mortal hands."

The dwarf beamed as if he'd received the highest possible compliment—which, from Queen Gilgamesh, he essentially had.

Even the more reserved maids found their niches. Void Shiki's silent presence became a regular feature in Tempest's meditation gardens, where spiritually inclined citizens found that practicing near her somehow deepened their connection to fundamental forces. She rarely spoke, but when she did, her observations carried weight that resonated far beyond their seeming simplicity.

"Emptiness is not absence," she told a young ogre struggling with concentration techniques. "It is potential awaiting purpose."

The most dramatic cultural exchange, however, centered around the newest member of Ramiris's court. Milim's training regimen had become something of a public spectacle—partly because containing it entirely proved impossible, and partly because Tempest's warriors were fascinated by the techniques being demonstrated.

The Mountain Range of Trembling Earth, previously an uninhabited area due to unstable mana concentrations, had been converted into what Milim enthusiastically called her "Super Special Training Ground." Here, under the supervision of Kali and Scáthach, she practiced combat techniques that combined her raw destructive power with newfound precision.

"Control through intention, not limitation," instructed Scáthach as Milim attempted to target specific rock formations while sparing others. "Destruction is a scalpel, not merely a hammer."

"But hammers are fun too!" Milim protested, though she dutifully continued the precision exercises.

Kali, watching with arms crossed, nodded in approval. "She learns quickly. Her instincts are surprisingly refined beneath the chaos."

A small audience of Tempest's elite warriors had gathered at a safe distance, taking notes on the techniques being demonstrated. Benimaru in particular had become a regular observer, his analytical mind recognizing the value in these unprecedented training methods.

"The concept of 'destruction as precision' contradicts most established combat philosophy," he commented to Rimuru during one such session. "Yet the practical applications are undeniable."

"Their entire approach to power seems different," Rimuru agreed, watching as Milim successfully vaporized a specific boulder while leaving the identical one beside it completely untouched. "Less about quantity and more about... quality?"

"Conceptual dominance rather than mere energy projection," clarified Ramiris, who had approached silently to observe the training. "A fundamental difference in how reality is engaged."

The training session concluded with a demonstration from Scáthach—a display of such precise control that she severed individual leaves from a distant tree without disturbing the branches that held them. The watching warriors murmured in appreciation, recognizing mastery when they saw it.

As the observers dispersed, Ramiris remained behind with Rimuru, both watching as Milim enthusiastically pestered Kali for "just one more super cool technique" despite obvious exhaustion.

"Her stamina is remarkable," Ramiris noted. "Most beings would have collapsed days ago under this training regimen."

"That's Milim," Rimuru agreed. "Endless energy, especially when she's excited about something. And she's clearly very excited about being part of your court."

"The enthusiasm of a new convert," Ramiris smiled. "Though in her case, I believe it's genuine rather than merely temporary fervor. She has found something she lacked—structure for her considerable abilities."

"I've never seen her so focused," Rimuru admitted. "Usually she's bouncing between interests every few minutes. But she's been diligently following your maids' instructions for days now."

"Purpose provides focus," Ramiris observed. "Even for beings of chaotic nature."

Their philosophical discussion was interrupted by Milim herself, who bounded over with remarkable energy despite hours of intensive training.

"Did you SEE that last technique?" she exclaimed excitedly. "Scáthach showed me how to focus my destruction magic through conceptual channels rather than just blasting everything! Watch!"

She turned toward a distant boulder, narrowed her eyes in concentration, and released a precisely controlled beam of energy that carved a perfect spiral pattern into the rock's surface without shattering it.

"Most impressive," Ramiris acknowledged with genuine approval. "Your control has improved significantly."

Milim beamed at the praise. "Void Shiki's boring—I mean, very important theoretical lessons actually helped! Understanding the 'essential nature of being and non-being' makes destruction way more precise!"

"A student who applies theoretical knowledge to practical application is a teacher's greatest reward," Ramiris replied warmly. "Your progress honors your instructors."

Milim's expression grew suddenly serious—a rare sight that caught both Ramiris and Rimuru by surprise. "I've been thinking about what you said before. About power with purpose becoming authority."

"Yes?" Ramiris encouraged, intrigued by her thoughtful tone.

"I've always just used my power because it's fun and it's what I'm good at," Milim explained, struggling slightly to articulate concepts she'd never before considered. "But watching your maids—they're all super strong, but they use their power for specific reasons, not just because they can."

"An important distinction," Ramiris nodded. "And how does this observation affect your perspective?"

Milim's brow furrowed with the effort of philosophical thought. "I think... maybe I've been missing something? Like, being the Destroyer is cool and all, but maybe there's more to being powerful than just... destroying stuff?"

Rimuru stared at her in amazement. "Milim, that's possibly the most introspective thing I've ever heard you say."

"I know, right?" she agreed, looking slightly confused by her own depth. "My brain feels all tingly and weird from thinking so hard. Is this what you feel like all the time, Rimuru? How do you stand it?"

Before Rimuru could respond to this backhanded compliment, Ramiris laughed—a warm, genuine sound that contained no mockery, only appreciation.

"Berserker of Joy, you continue to surprise me," he said, his golden eyes twinkling. "The capacity for growth is perhaps the rarest quality among immortal beings. Most become fixed in their nature over time, resistant to new perspectives. You embrace change with the same enthusiasm you bring to everything."

"Is that good?" Milim asked hopefully.

"Extraordinarily so," Ramiris confirmed. "It suggests your potential extends far beyond mere destructive capability."

Milim practically glowed under this praise. "So does this mean I get to learn one of your special techniques now? I've been super good and I've practiced everything they taught me!"

"Indeed you have," Ramiris acknowledged with an indulgent smile. "Very well. Tomorrow we shall begin instruction in a simplified form of Overlord's Drive—the technique you witnessed during our initial exchange."

"YES!" Milim pumped her fist in victory, her philosophical moment giving way to pure excitement. "I'm going to learn the sparkly galaxy-eyes power!"

"A somewhat reductive description, but essentially accurate," Ramiris conceded with amusement. "Though I should warn you, it requires considerable mental discipline alongside raw power."

"I can do mental discipline!" Milim insisted. "Void Shiki said my meditation is getting way less fidgety!"

"High praise indeed from our Silent Watcher," Ramiris noted with a slight smile. "Very well. Dawn tomorrow, at the center of the training grounds."

As Milim bounded off to share this news with her fellow maids-in-training, Rimuru turned to Ramiris with a mixture of amazement and concern.

"Are you sure teaching her your techniques is... safe? For the rest of us, I mean."

"A valid concern," Ramiris acknowledged. "But the version she'll learn contains appropriate limitations. Think of it as training wheels on a conceptual bicycle."

"That's... not entirely reassuring," Rimuru admitted.

"Faith, Demon Lord of Tempest," Ramiris clapped him on the shoulder. "The path to responsible power always involves some risk. But consider the alternative—Milim with her current level of raw destruction but no refinement or purpose."

"When you put it that way," Rimuru conceded, "I suppose conceptual training wheels are better than no guidance at all."

The following dawn brought an unexpected audience to the training grounds. Word had spread of the Supreme Monarch's personal instruction session, drawing observers from throughout Tempest. Even Veldora had arrived early, creating a comfortable viewing platform for himself and loudly proclaiming his "expertise in divine power dynamics" to anyone who would listen.

Ramiris arrived precisely at dawn, his casual battle attire replaced by more formal regalia that befitted the occasion. Behind him processed several of his senior maids—Tiamat, Queen Gilgamesh, and Void Shiki—each maintaining solemn dignity that conveyed the significance of the moment.

Milim waited at the center of the training ground, her usual boundless energy tempered by uncharacteristic nervousness. Her maid uniform had been adjusted for training—still formal but modified for freedom of movement, with draconic motifs subtly emphasized.

"Berserker of Joy," Ramiris addressed her formally as he approached. "Are you prepared to receive instruction in the foundational principles of Overlord's Drive?"

"Yes, Supreme Monarch!" Milim responded with perfect ceremonial address, clearly having been coached by Queen Gilgamesh for this moment.

"Very good," Ramiris nodded approvingly. "First, we must establish the conceptual framework. Overlord's Drive is not merely a technique but a philosophical approach to authority itself."

What followed was unlike any training session Tempest had ever witnessed. Rather than immediate displays of power, Ramiris began with what appeared to be a lecture—explaining fundamental concepts of authority, confidence, and reality alignment in terms that somehow bridged the gap between abstract philosophy and practical application.

"The core principle is this," he explained, golden galaxies swirling in his eyes as he demonstrated. "True authority doesn't demand acknowledgment—it simply is. Reality itself recognizes and responds to absolute confidence properly applied."

Milim listened with unprecedented focus, occasionally asking surprisingly insightful questions that showed genuine engagement with the concepts being presented.

"So it's not about forcing reality to do what you want," she clarified at one point, "but about being so perfectly aligned with what you are that reality naturally follows your lead?"

"Precisely!" Ramiris looked delighted by her understanding. "Excellently formulated. Overlord's Drive is not domination but perfect alignment between intent and existence."

After an hour of theoretical foundation, they moved to practical application. Ramiris instructed Milim to activate her standard Demon Lord aura, then guided her through subtle adjustments to its conceptual framework.

"Feel the difference between pushing power outward versus simply allowing it to exist with absolute certainty," he directed. "Less effort, more truth."

To everyone's surprise—perhaps even her own—Milim grasped the concept quickly. Her typically chaotic aura shifted, becoming not necessarily stronger but somehow more... fundamental. The ground beneath her stopped trembling but instead seemed to acknowledge her presence more deeply, as if reality itself was paying closer attention.

"Yes, exactly like that," Ramiris encouraged. "Now, find the core of your identity—the truth of Milim that cannot be denied—and allow that to become your anchor."

Milim closed her eyes in concentration, her expression uncharacteristically serene. When she opened them again, a subtle change had occurred. Her magenta eyes now contained tiny motes of golden light—not the galaxies of Ramiris's full power, but a definite shift toward something more conceptual.

"I feel... different," she said quietly. "Like everything is more... real? But also more... mine? I don't know how to explain it."

"You don't need to explain," Ramiris assured her. "The experience transcends conventional language. What you're feeling is reality's acknowledgment of your authentic authority."

He guided her through several exercises—focusing her new awareness on specific targets, adjusting the intensity of her conceptual presence, and most importantly, learning to control the radius of effect.

"Remember, with great authority comes great responsibility," he emphasized. "Overlord's Drive affects everything within its range. Careful control of that range is essential for ethical application."

By mid-morning, Milim had progressed to a point where she could manifest a limited but functional version of the technique. Her natural affinity for power manifested in surprisingly quick adoption of the conceptual framework, though her application remained somewhat unpolished.

"Remarkable progress," observed Tiamat from the sidelines. "The dragonoid lineage provides natural compatibility with authority concepts."

"Indeed," agreed Queen Gilgamesh, watching critically but with growing approval. "Though her execution lacks refinement, the fundamental understanding is there."

Void Shiki simply nodded, her silence somehow conveying more approval than words could express.

As the training session concluded, Ramiris addressed his student with formal acknowledgment. "Berserker of Joy, you have demonstrated admirable aptitude for conceptual authority. Continue practicing within the limitations we've established, and further instruction will follow when you've mastered these fundamentals."

Milim bowed deeply—a gesture so uncharacteristic that several observers gasped in shock. "Thank you, Supreme Monarch. I will practice exactly as instructed."

The moment of formality passed quickly, however, as she bounced back to her usual exuberant self. "Did you SEE that, everyone? I did the golden-eyes thing! Not as fancy as Ramiris's galaxies, but super cool anyway!"

The watching crowd broke into appreciative applause—partly for the impressive display, but perhaps more for the unprecedented sight of Milim exercising restraint and discipline in her training.

As the gathering dispersed, Ramiris joined his senior maids, accepting their assessments with thoughtful attention.

"She shows remarkable potential," Tiamat observed. "Her intuitive grasp of conceptual alignment suggests capacity far beyond mere destruction."

"The discipline will require ongoing reinforcement," cautioned Queen Gilgamesh. "But the foundation is surprisingly solid."

"Empty vessel, eager to be filled," Void Shiki contributed cryptically. "Joy without direction becomes chaos. Joy with purpose becomes creation."

Ramiris nodded, considering their insights. "Our Berserker of Joy may prove to be one of our most interesting additions in millennia. She approaches power with none of the baggage most ancient beings accumulate—no bitterness, no cynicism, just pure enthusiasm for existence itself."

"A refreshing quality," acknowledged Tiamat with a gentle smile. "One we sometimes forget to value."

As they discussed Milim's progress, the subject of their conversation had already bounded off to demonstrate her new abilities to her friends, trailing excited exclamations and only minor reality fluctuations in her wake.

Chapter 9: Farewell to Tempest

The final week of Avalon Evernight's visit to Tempest passed in a whirlwind of cultural exchange, training sessions, and increasingly comfortable interactions between the citizens and their otherworldly visitors. What had begun as an alarming intrusion had transformed into something approaching a festival atmosphere, with daily demonstrations and exchanges drawing crowds from throughout the federation and even neighboring nations.

In the grand meeting hall of Tempest's government building, final preparations were underway for the farewell banquet. Decorations combined elements from both cultures—Tempest's vibrant monster-nation aesthetics alongside the elegant cosmic motifs of Avalon Evernight. The effect was striking—a visual representation of the unexpected harmony that had developed between the realms.

Rimuru surveyed the arrangements with satisfaction, occasionally suggesting minor adjustments to Shuna, who was directing the final touches with her usual precision.

"It's hard to believe they've only been here for three weeks," he commented. "It feels like they've always been part of Tempest somehow."

"Their integration has been remarkable," Shuna agreed. "Even the initially fearful citizens now seem disappointed by their departure."

"Well, not complete departure in Milim's case," Rimuru noted. "Though I'm still adjusting to the idea of her having... responsibilities."

His observation was punctuated by the arrival of the subject herself—Milim in her full maid regalia, looking uncharacteristically concerned as she approached.

"Rimuru! I need your help with something SUPER important!" she announced.

"What is it this time?" he asked warily, half-expecting news of accidental destruction during her training.

"My farewell speech!" she declared, producing a crumpled piece of paper covered in her childish handwriting. "Queen Gilgamesh says all court members must deliver formal addresses at significant diplomatic events, but mine keeps sounding stupid!"

Rimuru blinked in surprise. "You're... actually worried about giving a proper speech?"

"Of course!" Milim looked genuinely distressed. "This is my first official duty as Berserker of Joy! I can't mess it up! Ramiris is counting on me to represent the court properly!"

"Let me see what you have," Rimuru offered, taking the rumpled paper. He scanned the contents, finding a chaotic but earnest attempt at formal address interspersed with Milim's typical enthusiastic exclamations.

"Well, it's certainly... authentic," he offered diplomatically.

"It's terrible, isn't it?" Milim groaned. "Queen Gilgamesh already rejected three versions. She says I need to 'project appropriate dignity befitting a representative of Avalon Evernight' while still 'maintaining my essential nature as Berserker of Joy' and it's making my head hurt!"

"I think the key is to find a balance," Rimuru suggested. "Maybe focus less on formal phrasing and more on expressing genuine feelings in a slightly more... controlled manner?"

Their impromptu speech workshop was interrupted by the arrival of Ramiris, accompanied by Tiamat and several other maids. The Supreme Monarch surveyed the banquet preparations with approval before noticing Milim's distressed expression.

"Ceremonial address difficulties?" he inquired with intuitive understanding.

"She's worried about her farewell speech," Rimuru explained.

"Ah, the eternal challenge of formal communication," Ramiris nodded sympathetically. "Queen Gilgamesh's standards can be rather... exacting."

"She made me rewrite it three times!" Milim complained. "And it still sounds all wrong!"

Ramiris considered this, then offered unexpected advice. "Perhaps instead of trying to sound like the other maids, you might simply speak from your position as Berserker of Joy? After all, your role in our court is to embody authentic enthusiasm, not to replicate Queen Gilgamesh's imperial formality."

Milim's eyes widened with sudden understanding. "So I should just be... me? But maybe slightly less shouty?"

"Precisely," Ramiris confirmed with an encouraging smile. "Authentic but refined—the perfect balance for diplomatic communication."

"I can do that!" Milim declared, immediately crumpling her labored draft and tossing it aside. "Thanks, Supreme Monarch! You're the best boss ever!"

As she bounded away to prepare her revised approach, Ramiris turned to Rimuru with amusement. "The socialization process continues. Finding one's unique expression within formal structures is perhaps the most challenging aspect of court integration."

"I'm still amazed at how she's adapted," Rimuru admitted. "Three weeks ago, the idea of Milim worrying about proper diplomatic address would have seemed impossible."

"Growth often occurs most dramatically where it's least expected," Tiamat observed serenely. "The Berserker of Joy has found purpose in service, and purpose provides powerful motivation for development."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of early guests for the farewell banquet. Dignitaries from neighboring nations had arrived to witness the departure of the celestial visitors, curiosity overcoming any initial reservations. Among them, King Edmaris of Falmuth approached with careful respect.

"Demon Lord Rimuru, Supreme Monarch Ramiris," he greeted them formally. "Falmuth wishes to extend appreciation for the invitation to this significant occasion."

"Your presence honors us," Ramiris replied with diplomatic precision. "Cultural exchanges benefit from diverse perspectives."

The king nodded, then ventured a more personal observation. "I must admit, when your floating city first appeared above Tempest, many of us feared the worst. The demonstration of power was... concerning."

"Understandable," Ramiris acknowledged. "Novel experiences often trigger defensive responses. Yet diplomacy allows us to transform initial alarm into mutual benefit."

"Indeed," agreed the king, clearly relieved by the peaceful outcome. "Falmuth has learned much from observing your interactions with Tempest. Perhaps most importantly, we've gained new perspective on the benefits of peaceful coexistence with monster nations."

"A valuable lesson," Ramiris noted with subtle emphasis. "One that will hopefully endure beyond our visit."

The diplomatic subtext was clear—Ramiris's departure did not mean the protection of Tempest would end. King Edmaris clearly understood, bowing slightly in acknowledgment before moving on to greet other guests.

As the hall filled with dignitaries and citizens, the atmosphere grew festive. The maids of Avalon Evernight mingled with the crowd, each having developed connections during their stay. Arcueid chatted animatedly with Veldora about interdimensional literature, BB demonstrated magical techniques to fascinated apprentice mages, and even Queen Gilgamesh engaged in what appeared to be almost friendly conversation with Tempest's treasury officials.

The formal portion of the evening began with Rimuru's address—a heartfelt expression of gratitude for the knowledge and friendships formed during the unexpected visit. He concluded by extending a permanent welcome to return, should Avalon Evernight's travels ever bring them back to their reality.

Then came the maids' ceremonial farewells, each addressing the gathering with personalized remarks. Tiamat spoke of growth and nurturing connections, Queen Gilgamesh acknowledged the "surprisingly adequate hospitality" (high praise from her), and others offered insights and appreciation appropriate to their roles.

When Milim's turn came, a hush fell over the crowd, curiosity evident on every face. She stepped forward in her formal maid attire, took a deep breath, and began speaking with unusual composure.

"When I first challenged Supreme Monarch Ramiris to battle, I was just looking for a fun fight with someone super strong," she began candidly. "I didn't expect to find a whole new purpose. Being Berserker of Joy in the court of Avalon Evernight means I get to be me—but a better, stronger, more awesome version of me!"

Her natural enthusiasm began to shine through, but tempered with newfound thoughtfulness. "Tempest has always been my special place because Rimuru is my best friend. Now I have two special places—and I promise to be a super amazing representative of both!"

She concluded with a formal bow that would have made Queen Gilgamesh proud, before adding with irrepressible Milim-ness: "And I'm totally going to practice my new powers somewhere safe so I don't accidentally break anything important!"

The crowd erupted in appreciative applause—partly for the speech itself, but perhaps more for the evident growth it represented. Queen Gilgamesh, standing nearby, gave a small nod of approval that clearly meant more to Milim than the general acclaim.

Finally, Ramiris himself addressed the gathering. His natural charisma and authority filled the hall without effort, commanding attention through presence rather than volume.

"People of Tempest, honored guests, friends we've made during our stay," he began, golden eyes sweeping the room. "What began as a simple vacation has become something more meaningful—a reminder that connections can form across the most improbable boundaries."

His gaze rested briefly on Rimuru. "In our travels throughout the multiverse, we have encountered countless civilizations, yet few have demonstrated the unique harmony of Tempest—a realm where differences become strengths rather than divisions. This quality resonates with Avalon Evernight's own fundamental nature, creating a harmony none could have predicted."

He gestured to his maids, standing in formal arrangement behind him. "Though we depart tomorrow with the rising sun, connections once formed transcend mere physical proximity. The knowledge exchanged, friendships formed, and agreements established remain—bridges between our realms that distance cannot diminish."

With a subtle gesture, Ramiris manifested a small crystal sphere that hovered above his palm