You were casually strolling around the capital and the hearty streets of Tempest, Orcs reconstructing housing after the war between Tempest and Falmuth, Goblins walking and chatting amongst among one another with other races, Lizardmen pulling and transferring carts of goods, etc. Everything seemed to be going swell after the war.

Until, Rimuru (whom in this canon held an AK-47, constantly) was standing amongst them with a pleased, humble smile on him with his hands behind his back notices you. He tilts his head, stopping in his tracks with an intrigued look.

What now?