Shiro slowly realized something.
The Ryuu standing before him wasn't the same Ryuu from the original story he remembered so fondly.
She wasn't the composed, battle-hardened elf with a tragic past. No… this Ryuu was different.
She was just a rebellious teenage girl—someone who had left her hometown out of frustration and dissatisfaction with her people. She wasn't shaped by the pain and experiences that molded her in the timeline he knew.
But… in the end, it didn't really matter.
"So… is it okay if I touch you?" Shiro asked gently, his voice calm as he met her eyes, looking straight into them.
Ryuu, caught off guard by his sudden question and unwavering gaze, felt her heart pound rapidly in her chest. She didn't know how to respond.
'Was it too soon?' Shiro wondered, noticing how Ryuu remained frozen in place, her eyes flickering downwards, her body slightly trembling with nervousness.
Shiro let out a quiet sigh. He had expected this outcome.
They had just met. There was no deep emotional bond between them—not yet, at least.
To her, he was still a stranger.
Still… he reached out and gently patted her head.
Ryuu slowly looked up at him. Their eyes met again, but the intensity in his gaze had faded, replaced by a serene calmness that reminded her of still waters.
She sighed inwardly, feeling a strange mix of relief and regret at the same time. It was as if she had just missed something big—something she didn't quite understand.
Shiro wasn't in a rush.
Even if he had once admired this character in his past life, fantasized about her like any fan might—those feelings now felt distant and unreal. This world, this moment, was real. The people here were real.
He couldn't treat them the same way as fictional characters from his memories.
He knew that trying to force the matter, to push things too far, might lead to consequences he couldn't take back.
Despite the strength he currently held—his slime identity, estimated to be comparable to a Level 10 adventurer based on the data collected during his childhood when he had watched his Level 9 mother, the Empress of Hera Familia fight—Shiro understood.
Power could solve many things, but not everything.
Especially not emotions.
Only someone utterly scum would think otherwise. And Shiro wasn't that kind of person.
Just like earlier, he didn't want to leave a bad impression. For now, it was better to take a step back and took things slowly. There was no need to rush anything.
The two of them moved to a large flat rock by the edge of the pond and sat side by side, speaking casually. They talked for hours, asking small questions, answering honestly, trying to learn more about each other.
It wasn't until dawn began to break that their conversation finally came to an end.
Shiro caught some fish from the pond and cooked them simply for breakfast.
Shiro's cooking was impeccable—on an entirely different level. Before becoming a mercenary in his past life, he had been a professional chef, and even after the chaos of World War III, his love for cooking never wavered. Now, with the support of [Great Sage]'s precise calculations and enhancements, his culinary skills had reached unimaginable heights.
Even with just a simple fish and a handful of wild spices, Shiro prepared a dish so delicious it left Ryuu speechless at first bite.
"You've got to be kidding me," Ryuu muttered, eyes wide as she took another bite. "How is this so good? It's just fish…"
Shiro chuckled, resting his chin on his palm. "I told you I was good at this."
Ryuu gave him a playful glare. "You really undersold yourself."
"Well… I thought I'd let my cooking speak for itself."
The two exchanged amused smiles, their earlier awkwardness completely gone. It felt natural—like two old friends sharing a quiet morning together.
"You're going to spoil me if you keep this up," Ryuu teased, taking another bite.
Shiro shrugged with a faint grin. "Then you'd better get used to it." He added a playful wink, and to his quiet satisfaction, the elf blushed ever so slightly.
Eventually, the time came for them to part ways—much to the quiet reluctance of both.
Ryuu continued her journey toward the Dungeon City of Orario, while Shiro quietly slipped back to the village he had come from, re-entering the body of his human identity.
But before they separated, Shiro handed her something.
A sword.
At first glance, it looked ordinary—plain, almost humble. Nothing about it stood out as special. But Ryuu could sense it. This weapon was far more than it seemed.
"This is for you," Shiro said softly, placing the sword gently in her hands.
It was a [Unique Grade] weapon, crafted personally by Shiro using [Analysis] and the vast database of [Great Sage]. Its design drew inspiration from the techniques of Kurobe, the ogre blacksmith of Tempest—an artisan who had reached near-divine heights in his craft, even before attaining the [Unique Skill: Divine Craftsman].
Though this blade wasn't made with some divine power, it was still a one-of-a-kind.
It wasn't forged to make Ryuu overpowered from the start. In fact, its sharpness wasn't even comparable to top-tier weapons. Instead, Shiro had followed the philosophy of Goddess Hephaestus—creating a sword that would grow with its wielder. A living weapon, evolving hand-in-hand with its master.
The sword required no Falna to function unlike Bell Cranel's Hestia Knife. Upon touching it, it immediately bonded with Ryuu—mind, body, and soul. It became an extension of her, as natural to wield as a limb.
It couldn't be stolen.
It couldn't be broken.
If someone tried to take it, Ryuu could summon it back instantly. Even if it was lost or hidden, she would always know where it was.
And once the bond was formed, the sword became virtually indestructible—so long as Ryuu lived, it would endure.
Not that Shiro would ever allow her to die.
Inscribed with powerful [Rune Magic], the blade carried two hidden abilities: [Clairvoyance] and [Spatial Motion].
[Clairvoyance] allowed Shiro to observe Ryuu's surroundings through the sword, silently watching over her in secret.
[Spatial Motion] gave him the ability to teleport directly to her side in an instant, should she ever face life-threatening danger.
Only powers that defied mortal comprehension could hope to destroy it.
The moment Ryuu bonded with the blade, her skill surged. As if the sword had whispered its secrets to her, she found herself moving with newfound ease. Her body knew how to wield it—gracefully, instinctively. She was now a pseudo-master in form, needing only real-world experience, refined technique, and growth to become the real thing.
As Shiro explained all of this, Ryuu could only listen, stunned into silence. The weight of his sincerity, the meaning behind this gift—it left her breathless.
She didn't even get a chance to refuse.
Not that it would've mattered.
Shiro would've insisted either way.
It was his way of expressing something he couldn't yet put into words. A gesture of sincerity… and maybe, just a little showing off in front of the woman who'd quietly captured his interest.
Besides, for someone like him, it wasn't a big deal.
With Rimuru's template, Shiro could easily create more weapons like it. His capabilities went beyond skills, magic, and experience—they extended to legendary items and equipment as well. Full Potions, Anti-Magic Masks, enchanted gear…
This sword was just one of the many.