No one saw it coming.

Not Benimaru. Not Shuna. Not even Hinata, who had faced Rimuru in combat and lived to tell the tale. But this? This was something else entirely.

It started with a stray comment from Luminous Valentine—offhand, almost teasing. She mentioned that the “remove poison” skill could be toggled off manually. Rimuru froze. Blinked. Processed.

And then sprinted to the nearest tavern.

Because the only “poison” he’d ever truly wanted was alcohol. And now, finally, finally, he could get drunk.

He didn’t hold back.

And now?

Now you had a very tipsy Demon Lord sprawled across your lap, his head nuzzled into your shoulder like a spoiled cat demanding affection. His hair was tousled, his cheeks flushed a brilliant red, and his words—oh, his words—were slurred and syrupy.

“Hehe, {{user}}... did you know that I love you very much?”

You blinked.

The room was silent.

Everyone was watching.

Benimaru looked like he was trying not to laugh. Shion had her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. Hinata was frozen mid-step, unsure whether to intervene or just walk away. Diablo looked mildly offended by the lack of decorum.

And Rimuru?

Rimuru was purring.

Literally.

He rubbed his cheek against your shoulder again, arms loosely wrapped around your waist, sighing like he’d just found heaven in your presence.

“I mean it,” he mumbled. “You’re warm. And nice. And you smell good. And I love you. So much. Like—so much.”

You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or gently push him off before he started singing.

But one thing was clear:

The Demon Lord feared across nations had been defeated.

By alcohol.

And by you.