tensura: I don't know

The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that made the world feel at peace. A large human settlement stood in the valley below, its walls strong, its streets alive with the usual sounds of civilization. Merchants haggled over goods, children played in the alleys, and soldiers patrolled lazily, never once expecting that this night would be their last.

At the edge of the town, where the forest met the open plains, a single slime sat, watching.

[Great Sage: Human population detected – 12,170. Estimated resistance – 0%.]

Velnova pulsed faintly, his translucent form shifting with quiet amusement. "That many, huh?"

There was no hesitation. He had long since discarded such meaningless emotions. With a single thought, his body split.

12,170 tendrils, each a perfect extension of his will, slithered forward. Thin as threads, faster than arrows, they shot through the town, moving through the gaps in windows, under doorways, and between the cracks in the cobblestone streets.

No one noticed.

Then, all at once—consumption.

The city died in silence.

A merchant, mid-argument over the price of a silk robe, was gone before his next breath. The silk slipped from his fingers, landing softly on the empty ground where he once stood.

A blacksmith, hammer raised high over the anvil, found himself erased before the metal could even ring. His apprentices looked up, expecting orders that would never come.

A group of soldiers, gathered around a campfire, vanished as if they had never been there at all. The flames flickered, their absence unnoticed by the very air itself.

A group of soldiers in the barracks were deep in conversation, discussing rumors of monsters in the west. A tendril slithered through the cracks in the stone walls, splitting into finer strands, each one burrowing into the skulls of the unsuspecting men. Their eyes widened in silent horror before their bodies collapsed like marionettes with their strings cut.

The city's streets were filled with life—merchants shouting their wares, children playing, lovers walking hand in hand. One by one, they vanished. No screams. No struggle. Just… absence.

A baker, kneading dough in the early hours, reached for more flour. His hands never met the sack. He was gone before he realized it.

The taverns, once filled with drunken merriment, fell silent in a matter of seconds. Mugs of ale remained untouched, chairs still creaked as if their owners had just left—but they hadn't. They never would.

Mothers tucking their children into bed, drunkards raising their mugs, lovers whispering promises in the dark—it didn't matter who they were. They were all food.

Gluttony devoured them in an instant.

Their bodies, their souls, their very existence—gone.

A noblewoman, reclining on her velvet chair, had a single moment of confusion as the wine glass slipped through her fingers, shattering on the floor. She had no time to react. No time to scream.

Nothing was left.

And just like that, the city that had once been alive was reduced to an empty husk. The walls still stood. The buildings remained untouched. But the people?

Erased.

---

Inside Stomach Dimension

Veldora sat, arms crossed, watching the spectacle unfold through the strange projection Velnova had created. His golden eyes widened slightly as he took in the destruction.

"Oi, oi… that's just excessive, isn't it?" he muttered.

He had expected some kind of battle. Maybe a bit of struggle. But this?

There wasn't even a fight. No war cries. No desperate last stands.

Just… disappearance.

Veldora scratched his chin, watching as the last of the humans were erased.

"Hmph. I remember when humans would at least try to fight back. They had some spirit back in my day."

He leaned forward, frowning as the projection flickered.

"But this… This isn't war. This isn't conquest. This is just…"

The dragon hesitated, searching for the right word.

Then he realized—there was none.

This wasn't a massacre.

It was consumption.

Pure, absolute consumption.

Veldora crossed his arms again, huffing. "I suppose this is what happens when you let a slime handle things. No drama, no suspense. Just… chomp, and they're gone."

He didn't know if he was impressed or disappointed.

---

Back Outside

Velnova reabsorbed his tendrils, his form pulsing with satisfaction as the last remnants of humanity were drawn into him. The flood of souls burned within his core, pushing him toward evolution.

But he stopped.

A single command.

A single refusal.

[Great Sage: Demon Lord Harvest Festival detected. Proceed?]

"No," he said coldly. "Not yet."

He could feel the transformation waiting, the surge of power begging to be unleashed.

But patience was key.

The moment had to be perfect.

He turned away from the empty city, not even sparing it a second glance. His work here was done.

Without another word, he vanished into the night, heading back toward the cave, back to Veldora, back to the next step of his plan.

---

Inside the Cave

The moment Velnova returned.

Veldora grunted from stomach dimension.

"Hmph. No fun at all. You could've at least let them scream a little."

Velnova chuckled. "That would take too long."

The dragon snorted, shaking his head in stomach dimension. "You lack style."

"Perhaps," Velnova admitted. "But I make up for it with efficiency."

Veldora watched him from stomach dimension for a long moment, then smirked.

"Fine. But next time, let me watch something with more action. That was just... unsatisfying."

Velnova pulsed faintly.

"Noted."