Grand Foreigner (Overlord\FGO Crossover)

Chapter 15: Big battle continued
Chapter 15: Big battle continued

Dracula was losing.

Avoiding attacks one after the other, Vlad understood that he was losing.

He had no opportunity to attack his opponent. All he could do was continue to throw useless spears into a soaring mage, who in turn just evaded them time after time, and then continue to run like a frightened mouse, feeling like each of the pillars of flame that kept coming from nowhere was melting his strength with his flesh.

He did not have the opportunity to use his trump cards. While the enemy was floating in the air, he was out of reach of Dracula's Kazikli Bey, which he could conjure according to his will in any place in his Kingdom. It would take him time and concentration in order to subdue the air around him, but if he even stopped for a second, he would get hit, and only two or three more direct hits would burn him completely. Moreover, even if he had subjugated the air to himself, this did not mean that his opponent would fall. In a strange way, the mage could escape his fate. He had already survived getting pierced with a dozen lances at the same time. It could be just a one-time trick, of course... But it could be something more.

And his opponent did not stop attacking. His attacks were exactly the same, as straightforward as possible, simple, and unmercifully strong. The fire arising with every word from his opponent licked tore flesh from the bones with the greed of a hungry beast, bringing with it the might and hatred of the primordial fire. Such magic was comparable to great magic - to the magic from the Age of the Gods. Even in the past, at a time when the gods walked the earth, such magic was not a bazaar trick, but a powerful ritual, magic available only to the strongest. Even if Dracula had fought the old Sumerian maiden, she would not have been able to use such magic more than ten times outside her territory. In her base, maybe she could reach fifty. But she was really strong, Vlad could not deny it, even if he did not want to admit it.

But his opponent continued to use spell behind spell as if such magic was, at best, a common occurrence for him. He was close to the designated fifty uses of such a spell, but unlike the witch, he was not in his territory. Even more, after fifty such spells, that witch would have been completely exhausted and would have had to leave the battlefield, while this mage, who continued to soar, seemed to not break a sweat, sending spell after spell at Dracula. And all that while he maintained his Fly spell. It was not a strong spell, many Servants could afford some sort of flight, but it was an extra waste of man, mana that was supposed to be used on spells, mana which seemed to be infinite in the body of Dracula's foe.

"What kind of monster is this?" Vlad asked himself a question and grinned. Not to downplay the irony of the greatest vampire calling someone a monster, but his opponent was truely much closer to a monster than to a man. Not every magi from the Age of the Gods could so calmly attack Vlad with this abundance of powerful spells, as if he was not at all concerned about his mana expenditure. Dracula tried to remember the name of someone who could attack over and over with magic of this caliber, but failed. His opponent used only three spells during the battle: fire, teleportation and flight. Vlad could not even imagine with whom he continued to fight - and at the same time, he was forced to reveal one of his main trump cards, his Kazikli Bey.

If it were not for his opponent's method of escaping from attacks and his excessive practicality in choosing the method of attack, Vlad would give him a respectful bow, as an equal. However, his enormous respect for his opponent was counterbalanced by his contempt for the tactics of his battle, because of that, all that the vampire could do was snort ardently, as if reluctantly recognizing that his enemy was still not weak.

Under normal conditions, even if Vlad faced such an adversary, his tactic would be to wait. He would wait out the attacks of his enemy, until he used all his strength - however, judging by the way his opponent continued to attack him, not caring about mana usage, Vlad understood that such tactics were useless. In other words…

Vlad was losing.

Dracula winced as if from a toothache, after which he glanced at his enemy, who continued to throw spells at him while floating in the sky.

Vlad still had four... No, five trump cards up his sleeve, although even the fact that he was ready to consider the fifth thing a trump card only showed how dangerous his opponent was, and how much his current summon changed him as a person.

One trump card, Kazikli Bey in his Kingdom was useless - and therefore the second trump card was useless too. There were three left, although under different conditions he would rather throw himself to stray dogs to be eaten than decide to use the last one, which was probably the strongest. So now he had only two.

And again, one was useless under current conditions, but another one ...

Vlad made a leap back, dodging the column of fire, then looked at the figure floating in the air.

If Vlad had the ability to neutralize the attacks of his enemy, he would rely on this ability. According to his theory, if the mage was able to neutralize his Kazikli Bey again, then there was no reason for him to rise into the air, evading further attacks of an ability not dangerous to him.

For Ainz, his thoughts were the opposite. No matter how much protections he uses against his enemy's ability, they will always fall short from absolute protection. This made him take his opponent seriously, which turned his battle into an endless race with an imaginary opponent, who could somehow outsmart any of his defenses or countermeasures at any time. Because Ainz took his opponent seriously, there was no such thing as "excessiveness" or "overkill". He could easily walk through the crowds of zombies, if he knew that they were weak, but when confronted with the Servant, who, by definition, was judged by his mind as "the pinnacle of power", Ainz took Dracula seriously. If he decided to prepare for a battle with a Servant who had fire magic, he would equipe himself with fire protection gear, use fire protection spells, protection against magic, protection against breaking through fire resistance, protection from breaking through protection from magic, anti-magic, anti-magic against penetration of protection, protection against penetration of anti-magic, anti-magic against anti-magic, and protection against protection from anti-magic ...

In other words, despite the fact that Vlad's attacks consisted of ordinary stakes, which could not harm the Ainz's body, despite the fact that the individual strength of each spear was below the threshold needed to cause damage to the mage, despite the fact that the physical resistance of the necromancer was able to cope with attacks much stronger, despite the fact that, as a creature made from bones, Ainz was particularly strongly protected from Vlad's piercing attacks, he nevertheless took to the air, protecting himself from Lancer's attacks even further. Moreover, he was ready to use at least five different spells aimed at defending against Lancer's attacks, all he needed to use them was for Dracula to demonstrate something that went beyond his assumptions. For Ainz, endless preparation and defense against all possible attack variants was a power.

For Vlad this was evidence of weakness. The king does not run away from those who are weaker than him, such were the thought of the legendary Dracula. If he was stronger than an advancing army, he would destroy it, proudly striding forward, ready to meet tens of thousands of enemies at a time. If he was stronger, then for him there was no such thing as "reinsurance", he would never have decided to retreat and then destroy the enemy from a safe distance. In this regard, he was infinitely different from Ainz.

In other words, in the actions of Ainz, who rose into the air, he saw not a demonstration of tactical wits, which means strength, but rather fear of getting attacked, and therefore weakness. For Vlad, such a retreat meant only one thing: The fact that his opponent was not as invulnerable to attacks as it seemed. That his Kazikli Bey, even if it didn't work the first time, was still not too weak to hurt - or kill - the mage. So in this trump card there was a meaning.

Avoiding another spell that exploded with a flower of fire at the spot where he was, Vlad stopped for a second. All that he could stand now was three direct hits of a spell of a similar level. However, in order to win, he was forced to perform such a gambit.

Fire sprang up around the vampire, burning his flesh. In the end, his face melted like a candle, his left hand burned to the ground, but he still stayed.

Concentrating on the power that had betrayed him before, Lancer appealed to the full power of his Noble Phantasm.

"Kazikli Bey!" and with these words a million lances launched out of the ground.


A million lances is still a million lances, it was hard to argue with that statement. Instantly, the stakes lashed from the earth to the very horizon, knocking away parts of the earth like horrifying, twisted trees, raising defeated enemies into the air, like an offering to the bloodthirsty gods of the sky.

Most of the Servants managed to respond to such a sudden occurrence - Arthuria's instincts forced her to disappear in a meaningless jump into the sky, Serenity's reaction was such that she used the rising stake as a platform for a new jump, even Medusa was able to escape from the blow of the legendary vampire. Some could not get away from the blows of the emerging stakes - Jeanne, who had barely stood up from the ground, managed only to move slightly from the impact trajectory, allowing the tip of the emerging lance to scratch her body, and Lancelot, devoured by his hatred, did not even notice how a certain peak pierced his body, impaling it as if on a pin, continuing his attack, breaking down the stakes emerging from nowhere as if they were splinters. However, no one was able to completely avoid the actions of the Dracula.

Except for one single girl.

Archer stepped aside, but this did not save him completely - even though a spear arising from the ground did not pierce him - the light surrounding him allowed the guy to understand what would follow next.

The blow of white fire that emerged from nowhere was not particularly strong, the opponent of the two Servants was not a particularly powerful mage in terms of attack, and Archer had small, but still relevant defense against magic, because of which, such an attack was only slightly more for him than a small flick, but nevertheless, Archer was extremely annoyed that he could not in any way evade such a spell, no matter what he tried.

At the same time, the girl who held the staff in her hands, more like a huge cudgel, did not even budge when the vampire stakes pierced the ground next to her. Not a single spear even scratched her, on the contrary, a thorn that emerged from the ground stood as an unexpected obstacle in front of the Assassin who appeared on the girl's side, and immediately retreated into the shadows.

It happened over and over again. Randomly, some of the Servants' attacks were simply interrupted without hitting their target. The blades in the Hassan's hands deviated from their course, passing in a centimeter from the girl's body, while Archer's arrows broke on her light robe, as if on a stone wall. However, this was not because of the girl's actions, nor because of the incompetence of the Servants the attacking her. The attacks broke down quite by accident. With equal probability, a shot from Archer hand would either fail, crashing powerlessly into an invisible shield around the girl, or hit her, causing the girl to step back. Equally likely, the strongest of Assassin's attacks would either powerlessly slide over Rider's skin, or leave huge wounds on the opponent's body. What kind of attack will be successful, and which will fai, it was quite by random, as random as Rider's own attacks.

Swinging her staff, Rider hit the ground under Assassin's legs, cracking it with in half, but Hassan easily walked out from under the blow, sweeping his blade on the girl's arm. This time Hassan's attack was successful, a red wound band appeared on the opponent's arm. However Hassan himself was wounded before, during a seemingly awkward movement, the girl was able to send Assassin flying with an unexpected blow.

Archer launched several arrows at the girl, after which, with blades he summoned in his hands, he rushed after her. Two arrows broke down powerlessly, as soon as they hit the girl's body, but one entered Rider's belly. However, the following attacks by Archer also ended in nothing, several flashes that lit up in the air turned out to be beaten off by the girl's staff, who, having caught the moment, drove her fist into the solar plexus of the guy, sending him too on a short flight.

"You will know the might of the Catholic Church, infidel!" the girl grinned, after which, waving her cross like a cudgel, she sent Hassan, who was near her, flying yet again. Now she didn't look like herself at all, there was no trace of the former modest nun. The fist blows of the girl sent her opponents flying with each hit, as if a huge bull was fighting them, and the staff in her hands turned from a symbol of faith into a threatening cudgel, breaking bones more easily than anyone would have thought. The girl's hairstyle was disheveled, there were a few drops of blood on her face, and the smile on her lips showed that the girl enjoyed the battle with the joy of a berserker, who seized the fight. Perhaps her Master, the Dragon Witch, really influenced her. However, it would have been impossible to achieve such a level of joy from the massacre taking place if the girl didn't have the original predisposition to it.

"Is that all you can do?" mocking them, the nun went on the offensive, forcing both Servants to prepare for the strike. The girl was injured, her staff carried several deep chippings, several arrows stuck out of her body - but the girl continued to fight with the enthusiasm of a real fighter, "Come on, fight!"

Rider's blow split the stone on which Archer was now standing, but the girl's attack did not end there. Archer blocked the girl's blow with a blade that appeared in his hands, but a sharp kick, as if received from a drunken sailor in a pub fight, knocked him back.

'Which of us is even winning?!' was Archer's only thought. He and Hassan continued to attack the girl time after time, she was much more heavily wounded than either of them, but she clearly was not experiencing any particular problems. On the contrary, it seemed that she had entered the berserker's rage, becoming more dangerous the more her opponents wounded her. Magic, fists, staff, kicks.. all mixed up in a single mad whirlwind.

Moreover, her strange abilities were problematic... It seemed as if the principles of cause and effect themselves were going mad around the girl, her attacks seemed to have their own mind, deciding at random if they hurt the enemy or not. Sometimes, it would seem she was absolutely incapable of harming her opponents, other times, her blows would catch up with Archer or Assassin, as if space itself was curving around them, changing the trajectory of their movement, or the Servants' attacks themselves bypassed Rider, powerlessly breaking from her strange defense.

This battle was chao... real chaos. Archer couldn't even say for sure who was leading in this game, he had only to take Rider's defense into account, how his arrow had pierced the girl's flesh, and when he considered himself a winner, a new impossible attack forced the guy to go on a long-distance flight.

"Absolute Madness" Archer found Hassan's gaze. He continued to dance around Rider, not paying attention to her attacks, however, catching his gaze Archer was ready to swear that he thought absolutely the same thing as Archer himself.

"It definitely can't go on like this" although Hassan had no face, even his eyes behind his white bone mask were not visible - Archer saw these words as clearly as he saw the ongoing battle of the remaining Servants with their opponents.

Archer nodded slightly, then jumped away from the girl, then again, and again.

"Where are you going?" Rider's voice was simultaneously bloodthirsty, confused, curious, and perplexed, but Archer did not dare answer these words.

"I am the bone of my sword..." Archer's voice, for a second, made Rider stop.

"Oh," she only responded, instantly realizing the meaning of the spoken words and smiled, "You highly appreciated my strength, I am grateful."

"But..." the girl smirked, "You, it seems, have not yet understood who you are unlucky to fight against."

"Tarrasque!" the girl's voice instantly filled with power, and before Archer's Reality Marble could absorb the girl, the movement of magic suddenly stopped when the incredible force opposing her began to take shape in this world "O' Tragic Drake Who Knew Naught of Love!"


"Master is really something ..." Cu Chulainn shook his head, watching how calmly Ainz scattered spells of an incredible level from sky, "Looking at this, you begin to wonder. Does he really need us to fight?"

Without waiting for an answer, Caster shook his head, "Wonderful.. the works of Gods!"

"Don't you dare to ignore me!" the cry of a girl from behind Caster made him turn around slowly.

"Oh, so are you still alive?" with these words, Cu Chulainn sighed, looking at the wounded Bathory, or Carmilla, who was gasping for air, leaning on her staff.

Carmilla gave a low rumbled roar to these words, but she already realized that it was dangerous to follow her emotions in this fight. Despite the fact that Elizabeth used her Phantasm at the very beginning of the battle, she was still losing. There were several reasons for this.

First of all, her very Noble Phantasm. The Phantom Maiden was the embodiment of her legend about the murder of hundreds of innocent girls. This Phantasm got stronger the more the target was young, beautiful and feminine. Against an adult male, its effectiveness was low.

Of course, on the other hand, the effectiveness of this ability was that, by using such a Phantasm, Carmilla could regenerate some of her lost health, however, if the damage dealt by the Phantasm was minor, then the regeneration was also minor.

Of course, Cu Chulainn also did not represent the apogee of power, so Carmilla had a chance to win at the very beginning, having impaled his body on iron spikes inside the Phantom Maiden, but since he was reinforced by Ainz's incredible mana and created a protective rune before being completely stabbed, Cu Chulainn survived, which meant that Carmilla had no chance.

But for some reason she still fought.

Elizabeth could not understand why she still allowed to fight. Was her opponent playing with her? Or perhaps he could not kill her for some other reason?

Carmilla no longer had trump cards up her sleeve. Her Phantasm was her main ace, and if this ability was useless, then she no longer had the opportunity to attack.

And yet, a miracle or not, but Carmilla continued to fight.

The rune, which arose before Cu Chulainn, spewed fire at the gir, forcing her to escape from the blow in a quick jump.

"And you are very tenacious," the guy gave the compliment to the girl, but Carmilla could not hear anything in it but a sneer. The only reason why she was still alive was because her opponent did not use his Noble Phantasm. If he had put his trump card in the game like she did, she would have lost.

However, she did not know that that was false, much to Cu Chulainn's regret.

The use of the Wicker Man was his trump card, but in this battle it was useless. The resulting giant would have been an unstoppable power, but against such a brisk and quick goal as Carmilla, he would have looked like a man who irritably tries to catch a fly. One blow would be fatal - however, the giant would not have had the opportunity to deliver this blow.

The situation was not a stalemate, Cu Chulainn clearly waw winning this battle. However, his victory was not going to be a quick one, and the battle threatened to drag on much longer than any other battle of the other Servants around.

Fortunately or not, the appearance of spears from under the ground caught the combatants off guard.

Cu Chulainn managed to take only a step to the side before the wooden stake broke through his leg, and Carmilla, even though she had tremendous Dexterity, could not react to the stakes that emerged from nowhere. Whether this was because she was injured, or because she was distracted by the battle, it was not clear.

What was clear was that the spears that had arisen around her turned into a prison, holding the girl down for those few precious seconds that Cu Chulainn needed so much.

"Wicker Man!" the name of the Noble Phantasm rippled through reality like circles on water, causing Caster's Concentrated legend to manifest in reality. The giant's fiery body rose tens of meters above the battlefield. If someone compared the creature even to something like a dragon, then the Wicker Man would have been much more impressive. Although much weaker in reality.

Carmilla attempted to throw herself again to the side. However, sandwiched between the clutches of stakes, she turned out to be an easy target for the huge fire giant.

The burning giant caught the girl and lifted her from her arms, then he squeezed her in his hands, and then, in one continuous movement, threw her inside his own thorax, which opened like the hungry mouth of a beast.

A moment later, when the Assassin's black and red stain disappeared inside the creature's cage, the giant's fire flared up with renewed strength, and the yellowish orange flame shot up along the bars of the cage, absorbing Carmilla within it. For a second, the creature stopped, then, like an explosion, every particle of the body of the Wicker Man flashed with blinding fire.

Cu Chulainn even closed his eyes for a second, the fire from his Phantasm was so this bright, after which, he blinked several times, brushing away the tears that had formed in his eyes.

It was his weaker Noble Phantasm of the two, but nevertheless, it was not wise to underestimate its power.

Cu Chulainn blinked a few more times, regaining his sight, then grunted in satisfaction, watching the ashes of the burnt-out monster descend from the sky.

However, instantly his eyes were riveted to strange details.

On the place where his Noble Phantasm was just a second ago was a black sarcophagus. No, it was not black, it was just covered with fumes and soot to the point that it seemed completely black to an outsider. In fact, judging by the appearance of the sarcophagus, Cu Chulainn could guess that in fact it should have had the color of unpainted steel, since he could distinguish the outlines of the Phantom Maiden even at such a distance.

Slowly the steel sarcophagus opened, after which the sweeping chains carried forward what was inside.

The one that came out was none other than Carmilla.

"Oh, that's how it is..." Cu Chulainn instantly realized the gist of what happened - "I didn't know that she could use the Phantom Maiden to defend..."

Carmilla used her Phantom Maiden like a protective shield, hiding inside it when the Wicker Manbustling around her in the flames, after which, she emerged from the flames unscathed. Clever - Cu Chulainn could not object to this. But…

Carmilla's dress was torn, and there were several small bruises on her body, so it was impossible to call Carmilla unharmed. But there was not a single burn on her, which meant she was not injured by the Wicker Man. In other words, the only way for Carmilla to be wounded in such conditions was to be wounded by the Phantom Maiden herself.

The Phantom Maiden was not intended to be used as a defense, it was a tool for wounding and torture, and anyone who was inside her had to suffer, Carmilla was no exception. However, she was Carmilla, she was the famous Elizabeth of Bathory, who bathed in the blood of hundreds of innocent peasant women in order to maintain her beauty. Even if that was not true during her life, that was her Legend as the Servant. The blood of her enemies fed her, in other words, any victim of the Phantom Maiden gave her her strength. Even if this victim was herself.

Of the three parameters to increase the power of her Phantasm, Carmilla was subject to two, she was beautiful and feminine. Even Cu Chulainn, who did not fit not even one of these three parameters, could have easily died from Bathory's Phantasm, he experienced the whole disfiguring power of this damned instrument. He knew that if he were an ordinary person, he would have died instantly from the pain, before dying on stakes; therefore, it was almost impossible to assume what Bathory had experienced.

And yet she chose to go through this pain, to experience the same thing as the hundreds of her victims, instead of losing so easily Cu Chulainn.

Will to win' Caster bowed his head in respect.

Carmilla actually forced herself to go through torture, supporting herself with her own torment. However, this ability had two problems.

The first is that the efficiency of life support was not equal to one hundred percent, because of that, Carmilla was still forced to injure herself with her Noble Phantasm.

The second is that this Phantasm did not reduce the pain at all.

Therefore, in a moment after the chains of Phantasm lowered the girl to the ground, she rushed at Cu Chulainn with hatred tens of thousands of times more than all that she had experienced before.

However, in the instant when the girl was in front of Caster, something exploded under her feet, making her to jump aside.

No matter how strong her will to win was, Caster was not going to give up so easily.


Ainz hovered in the sky, watching the actions of Dracula with concealed apprehension.

The main purpose of passing the Blood Gardens was the battle with Cainabel, the most significant and powerful, the God of Vampires, but his lieutenants were more than able to fight a full-fledged player of the 100th level, and, as to be expected of game bosses, each of them had their own, uniquely disgusting abilities. Carmilla had monstrously strong AoE attacks, mind control, time stop, she constantly teleported, created clones, and could rise three times after her death. Konstantin was incredibly tenacious, he had the ability to regenerate three times the amount of damage he did with any attack. Dracula... Dracula was extremely unpleasant for his endless stream of summoned mobs, his ability to block any attack, his astral form, the poisonous aura, the passive weakening of each victim he attacked, and his Reality Slash. Even though he was not a full-fledged mage, he knew a few spells of the tenth rank, similar to Demiurge.

Therefore, Ainz prepared for battle. He prepared for the astral form of his opponent, for his weakening blows, for the powerful offensive magic and for the hordes of vampires endlessly emerging from nowhere.

But there were no such things.

At this, Ainz glanced at Dracula, suddenly frozen on the ground, and sent him a new column of fire.

A strange conjecture pierced the mind of the magician.

Was it possible that this Dracula... Was not The Dracula, like in the game?

Was it possible that this Dracula was weaker, or had a completely different set of abilities?

No, of course, Dracula used an ability a little earlier, which pierced Ainz with spikes from underneath, but Ainz simply felt that Dracula used some of his low-level abilities, such as those that all 100-level opponents have, but never use in a real battle, in order to test Ainz's resistance. Ainz, seeing that Dracula used his low-level ability to test the opponent's resistance, even found him an even more dangerous opponent, because he used a low-level spell, conserving even the insignificant mana that was the difference between a single casting of a low-level spell and a high-level one.

However, continuing to look at how Vlad continued to throw stakes at him, Ainz came to a strange conjecture.

"Is it possible?" Ainz thought "That he is just weak?"

Ainz would not call him unequivocally weak, he was fast enough that he did not think that he would manage to defeat him in melee combat. However, even if his parameters were high and his combat experience exceeded Ainz's experience, if he could not surpass all of Ainz's abilities, skills, spells and equipment, then he still remained too weak to fight with a level 100 opponent.

Spears arising from the ground distracted Ainz.

Wooden stakes covered the ground in all directions all the way to the horizon — the spikes arising from nowhere injured several of the Servants who were fighting around, but Ainz himself, who continued to float in the sky, was completely unaffected.

Of course, this happened because Ainz was currently floating at a height of several tens of meters, while the stakes themselves did not even reach five, but, even if Ainz were on the ground at that moment, Dracula's ability would still not hurt him No matter how many thousands of lances were sent at him, unless each of them had enough power to go through at least the first level of his protection, each of them will be powerless to harm his body.

However, Dracula probably did not think so. Although the fiery tornado instantly swallowed his body, inflicting more damage on him than he could inflict on Ainz with all the spears that had arisen, he rejoiced at the effect of his ability. Having lifted a finger to the sky, he pointed to the figure of the floating mage, after which each of the thousands of stakes instantly shut upwards like arrows, after which, gathering with hundreds of similar ones, they turned into a huge prickly serpent in a second, hundreds of stakes rushed into the mage with the speed of a bullet.

It was pointless.

If any other Servant were in place of Ainz, he would have been torn apart the instance the whirlwind of lances touched him. However, this same Servant could have easily died before, after being pierced by wooden stakes arising from nowhere.

For Ainz, three spears or three millions, it was meaningless. However, Ainz was not so sure about that at the moment.

Ainz was a creature of a different principle. What was natural for the rest was wild for him, and vice versa, so it was not easy to predict whether the damage from the wooden stakes would exceed the level of Ainz's physical nullification.

As an example, the zombies in the game were the weakest opponents. However, the existing Zombie Horde mob, which represented only a group of dozens of zombies, merged among themselves, was still a fiftieth level creature. It was still extremely weak, but still capable of easily destroying hundreds, even thousands, of first-level opponents. Much more than he should be able to, based on the logic of the lore.

Therefore, Ainz was not sure that Lancer's spears would not cause him damage. If each of the copies inflicted only a single damage, then none of them would even be able to rumple his shirt. If Lancer's ability somehow considered all attacking spears as a single weapon, then Ainz reasoned that the damage would exceed the threshold of protection his body had against abilities of this level.

However, this did not mean anything, Ainz still had more than one ability to reduce the power of attacks directed at him, with multiple that could completely prevent damage. In other words, even if Dracula's spears had crossed the threshold of Ainz's complete protection from attacks of a certain power, they still couldn't deal damage to him.

However, Ainz chose not to take risks and avoided the vortex approaching him by teleportation.

Having appeared at a new place, he stretched out his hand in order to continue attacking Dracula, but the whirlwind of copies forced him to teleport again.

"Hm" after leaving teleportation, Ainz was forced to leave again, evading a spear thrown by the vampire himself, and then again, moving away from the soaring whirlwind "So this is his plan? Even if he cannot hurt me, he plans to force me to move from place to place... "

This plan was not fundamentally bad - however, it was absolutely useless. All the spells that Ainz used up until this point did not go beyond the seventh rank,, in other words, his mana was practically full, even though the use of the flight somewhat reduced his mana regeneration rate. Of course, if he were a lower level player, or someone not so focused on magic, and therefore had less mana reserves regeneration rate, or if Ainz himself used stronger spells, then this plan would make sense. However, in the current environment, all that Dracula could achieve was reduce Ainz's ability to concentrate on the attack, and thus reduce his accuracy. Of course, this was a good decision in itself. However, even at best, it could only delay the inevitable loss.

But why, in that case, did he resort to such a decision, instead of using any of his trumps? Summoning his henchmen, or perhaps using a strong instant attack?

The idea that Vlad could have been just less powerful than Ainz had initially considered him to be quietly crept to Ainz's mind, but he drove it away. Such thoughts were the way to defeat. His friend, Punitto Moe always talked about this. Therefore, he was not going to give Dracula concessions.

Teleporting once again, instead of using a brief second of calm to attack Dracula, Ainz used a different spell.

"Summon Undead: Eighth" he instantly ordered, after which, a black fog appeared around him and descended to the ground. Ainz immediately left the swarm of stakes following him, but the black fog was in no hurry to disperse. Slowly, it began to take shape, outlining the contours of a humanoid figure, then refining into a human one, and, eventually, a man dressed in armor. A second later, a black mist that hugged him from all sides, burst, after which, the man was born. His long black hair contrasted with his bluish-pale skin, descending along his black armor to the waist. The cloak that flapped behind him was full of black and red flowers that painted a strange symbol that was impossible to discern at the second that he was standing motionless. However, the beauty of his armor could not hide the deformities of his body.

In place of gauntlets, only bare hands with long, broken claws came out from under the armor, his face resembled a long bat face, his mouth was full of sharp needle teeth lining the inside of his mouth and throat, and even going deeper inside, and black eyes with red pupils blazing with insane thirst and hatred.

A moment later, the "Lord of Vampires", obeying the instinctive desire of his summoner, broke into a run.


Magic Resistance: A+ (Case)

For a creature of Yggdrasil, this skill is not just mandatory, it is one of the nine basic parameters that determine the most basic characteristics of a player or creature. The very existence of any living creature without this skill is unthinkable . After all, without protection from magic, any character can easily become a puppet of any sensible mage.

In the world around Ainz, this truth is often questioned, although not completely. Despite the fact that the absence of Magical Resistance really is most often a death sentence in the case of collision with a really powerful magician, the majority of Servants did not have protection from magic, and only a small portion of them has protection potent enough for really strong magicians to take in consideration.

Due to this, and given that Ainz's spells were originally designed to fight creatures with a very high level of magic resistance, even the fact that someone from the Servants survived from the initial use of the "Explosion" is worthy of respect. The fact that Dracula - albeit reinforced by his summon, Master and existence within his Kingdom, was able to withstand several direct hits from Napalm is doubly worthy of respect.
 
Chapter 16: Big battle ended
Chapter 16: Big battle ended

Dracula felt the moment when a creature similar to him was summoned even before the dark mist acquired its final shape, outlining long claws and a twisted mouth full of teeth. The feeling of grave cold and the barely perceptible smell of death passed over his bones like sandpaper, terribly similar to the feelings that Dracula himself bestowed on his allies as they approached.

"Vampire" Vlad instantly realized this, "Extremely strong one".

The vampire that appeared out of nothing was not weaker than Vlad himself.

Of course, in a battle inside Vlad's Kingdom, taking into account the help of his Master, his summoning and Noble Phantasm, Vlad believed that he was still stronger than the summoned vampire, but if he had to face him in a one-on-one battles on neutral territory... Vlad was not sure his victory was assured. And even it were, it would not be an easy victory.

"Creating a creature of such power ..." Dracula looked into the sky, where his opponent continued to evade the whirlwind of stakes that was chasing him "Who are you even?!"

The vampire that appeared from the black fog, however, did not bother with Dracula's thoughts and instantly rushed forward, forcing Vlad to respond to his movements.

The claws of the summoned creature met a spear in the hands of Dracula, leaving deep dents on it, then, feeling something was wrong, Vlad threw away the spear, which, after a second, disintegrated to smithereens due to the force behind creature's blow.

Vlad retreated a step, after which, intercepting with a newly conjured spear, he blocked a new strike of the creature, which was followed by another.

Left without direct control from Lancer, the whirlwind of stakes in the sky unexpectedly slowed down, after which, almost lazily, slowly crawled behind the wizard, who teleported again. Without Lancer's control, the whirlwind lost most of its speed and maneuverability, which meant that with only one move, Ainz instantly virtually neutralized all the danger from the Kazikli Bey vortex that arose earlier, while creating a really strong opponent for Dracula, capable of fighting him on an equal footing.

"Great..." despite the fact that Dracula was full of disgust for his opponent's stingy and dishonest style of battle, he could not help but admit the genius of the move of his opponent, "In one move he was able to neutralize me, my main and the most deadly trump card for him, and provide himself with a powerful ally at this crucial moment of our battle. So this was your trump card?.. As expected from my opponent."

Dracula greatly overestimated Ainz, although at the same time Ainz himself greatly overestimated Dracula. Ainz created the Vampire Lord as a temporary solution. Ainz saw Kazikli Bey appear as a whirlwind, but he considered that this ability was necessary to Dracula only to buy Dracula some time to prepare one of his trump cards. He needed to disturb Dracula's concentration, and he considered it best to create a temporary puppet in order to buy some time for himself before he decided on which battle strategy was best.

However, to the surprise of the mage soaring through the sky, the undead that emerged at his behest was not only not killed in battle, he unexpectedly forced Dracula to retreat from his position, defending himself from the merciless blows of a newly created vampire, while the soaring whirlwind of spears slowed down and turned into a lazy cat barely crawling across the sky in a reluctant pursuit of Ainz.

For Ainz, this meant only one thing.

"He prepares some powerful ability!" Ainz felt like a panic attack rose inside him, which got wiped out in an instant his passive skills "I should do something!"

The most suitable action was to use one of the high-level spells. However, Ainz could feel that his body could not withstand such a thing, even the use of Napalm was quite exhausting for his body. In other words, the use of high-level spells in such conditions was a last resort.

Ainz used teleportation to get away from the slowly approaching stream of spears, and then he looked at his opponent, who continued to fight the summoned "Vampire Lord." Unfortunately, the mental command of the summoned creatures was inaccessible to Ainz, so he was forced to accept the loss of his summon. However, contrary to Dracula's thoughts, this summon was not his trump card, but Ainz still did not like to waste summoned creatures in vain.


Perhaps it was a miracle of fate or a warrior's instinct, but when Dracula saw how Ainz stretched out his hand to create a spell, Dracula realized that this was the end. The summoned vampire continued to attack with the ferocity of a beast, while the spears of Kazikli Bey remained just a useless cloud littering the sky.

Dracula had to act.

Even if he dies at the end, he had to show that he would not die so simply. That he is still able to fight, and surprise.

The vampire, with whom Dracula continued to fight, suddenly dug into Vlad's throat, without meeting with the usual resistance from the Impaler. The beast's fangs pierced the defenseless neck of the Great Vampire, after which, obeying its ancient instinct, the ugly monster began to fondle the blood of an enemy that had not yet been killed.

Fine. Just the way Vlad wanted.

Having discarded defense, Vlad again concentrated on the whirlwind of lances, which, having received an order from it's creator, rushed forward at an incredible speed.

As the spell left the hands of the soaring mage, fire took shape. It was not like the fire that Dracula had been dealing with for the entire battle, no, it was a fire that burned ten times hotter. Like a small Sun, the flame descended hundreds of meters from the sky, but the fire still did not reach Dracula. Having crashed into the spears forming the cloud of Kazikli Bey, the fire instantly devoured them, turning the incarnated Vlad's legend into dust and ash in a heartbeat, while the resulting fireball continued to devour more and more new spears.

The hungry beast continued to lap up Dracula's blood, never stopping, drinking more and more with every second, just like Vlad wanted it to do.

"Kazikli Bey!" he used his ability for the last time. It activated like his ability before, but at the same time it was a unique ability, bestowed upon him by the nature of his summon, by his vampiric nature "The Blood-stained Demon King!"

It was a unique power bestowed upon Vlad by interweaving his true life and the Legend of Dracula. It was his vauled treasure, a trump card that Vlad had as a secret weapon, yet he never actively tried to keep it secret, using it openly the entire battle.

How did Vlad get his endless spears time after time, from a thin air?

From his own blood.

The blood absorbed his opponent drank from his neck submitted to the words of Dracula, and instantly turned into hundreds of spikes, tearing the greedy vampire that wanted to eat Dracula himself, to pieces.

Moments later, everything around became clouded with smoke and ash.


The Witch's body burned with pain.

Her muscles were screaming in pain, bones seemed to be trying to break through her skin, blood slowly and reluctantly flowed out of her veins, burning her mind, as if it was made of fire.

The sword in her hands grew slower with each blow, as if was getting heavier.

Serenity's shadow emerged from nowhere, which made the Witch jerk in an attempt to brush her aside, but the deft figure effortlessly walked away with the sway of the blade, after which, several throwing daggers penetrated the witch's skin, causing her to hiss in pain.

Gravity seemingly doubled, it became even stronger for the Witch, which led her to drive her black blade into the ground to lean on it and not fall, and Serenity's shadow, who appeared from nowhere, did not hesitate to take advantage of that.

Two more blades entered the Witch's body, and she fell, feeling the last of her strength leaving her body.

In her current state, her Phantasm was useless, she could hardly gather enough strength to even pronounce it's name.

Serenity suddenly appeared next to the Witch, and mercilessly knocked her down with a kick straight to the face. The Witch expected to see Assassin's triumphant face, but Serenity's face seemed to be bored. There was no smile, no grin, or even disgust on her face. Just routine boredom.

"You lost," Serenity said it calmly.

The hate inside the Dragon Witch rose like a tongue of flame, burning her inside out. Her opponent had to rejoice, she just triumphed over her, over Jeanne d'Arc herself! she should have been happy... smug...willing to make demands... anything! Her opponent should not have looked at her with such a bored look, as if she were an ordinary enemy, just like everyone else, insignificant, and so lacking.

"Go to hell!" having gathered all the power into a fist, the Witch tried to move for the last time, but with this, her energy was finally exhausted and she fell flat on the ground.

Serenity did not even flinch when the Witch made her last attack, observing her actions with the calmness of a pathologist looking at a new corpse.

"Now you finally shut up," the girl said it calmly, then leaned over the Witch's face.

The Witch did not want anything more in the world at this moment than to stick her teeth into the neck of the killer bending over her, but the red-hot stream of pain and exhaustion spreading through her muscles chained her to the ground with invisible chains.

"All my attacks are poisonous," Serenity bent over the girl at that moment, and then she touched the Witch's face with her own hands. From the cold fingers, the Witch felt an intolerable heat, as if acid was slowly spreading over her face, "My body is poison. My blood is poison. Even my breath is poison. Any blade that has been in my hands is poisonous."

The Witch wanted to swear, but all she could do was mentally curse the Assassin and Jeanne, who at that moment had managed to rise to her feet.

"Jeanne played her role in this battle," Serenity slowly raised the Witch's head, who did not even have the strength to resist such actions, "It was enough for me that you considered me less of a threat than her. You took to a few blows from me in order to get Jeanne out of the game. This means that Jeanne played her role, this was enough for me."

The Witch felt the pain of poison spilling over her body mixed with phantom pains from the fire of the Inquisition, which was eating her from the inside, so all she could do was twist her lips in a grin "Go to Hell with your Saint."

"She is not my Saint," Serenity calmly objected, and then forcibly opened the Witch's mouth. "I used to give death to my enemies through a kiss in my life. I always thought it was very poetic and beautiful, but after finding the Master…"

After these words, Serenity paused and took a deep breath.

"To burn your body and mind," the girl exhaled, but instead of exhale, a cloud of dense purple smoke burst from her mouth. The Witch understood that this smoke would be her end, but her body was already depleted. She did not even have the strength to push Serenity away from her. All she could do was watch the smoke burst into her throat unobstructed "Zabaniya."

The heat and pain in the Witch's body intensified a thousand times after the name of the perfect poison was uttered, and the Witch's mind was devoured by the poisonous smoke brought by the sad Assassin.

Violet smoke absorbed every cell of her body and penetrated every capillary, bringing torment.

And death.


It was difficult enough to fight Saint Martha on her own. Fighting her summoned dragon was impossible.

Archer retreated time after time, trying only the distracting blows on Tarrasque. His Reality Marble was never able to completely absorb such a powerful creature, which is why at the moment, he was limited in his options, but even if he was not, it is unlikely that he would have found something so strong as to destroy the real dragon.

"This is clearly not a wyvern," Archer noted to himself and shook his head inwardly, thinking that he now understood the reaction of his Master and Summoner. Further thinking for him was impossible due to a blow from the huge paw of the summoned monster.

"Is that all you've got?!" standing on the back of Tarasque, Martha shouted at Archer with a sneer, "Is that all you can do? Fight the defenseless Servant of the God, and run in fear at the sight of monsters?!"

'Even in a nightmare, I wouldn't call you defenseless,' Archer had only thought of that for a second before escaping from another blow. A replica of the holy sword flashed in his hand, a copy of Durendal, but without the full materialization of the Reality Marble, all he could create was a weak copy. Even overloading his blade completely to the highest point, his next blow, which exploded with a hundred gleams of light on the dragon's scales, did not even make him slow down.

"What a problematic opponent..." was the only thing Archer could think of before he had to move away from the next blow.

"What?" throwing another scoff, the Saint smirked, "Maybe then you would run away, like your boyfriend?!"

Assassin was able to instantly assess the situation.

"I am not suitable for fighting monsters, only for killing people" was his words before he disappeared from the battlefield.

A bright light surrounded Archer and he prepared for what follows next. In an instant, the explosion absorbed him, but his opponent was not strong when it came to offensive magic, because of that, he felt only a slight push and a burning sensation, as if he were doused with hot steam.

"These are not Master level attacks" after that, Archer shivered when he remembered the power of the necromancer. Whoever he really is, his strength served as a clear argument in favor of his right to command.

Archer had already foreseen the next blow from Tarrasque, therefore, having jumped aside, he was able to instantly charge the bow that appeared in his hands with a copy of the created sword. Caladbolg went flying, this time aiming not at the dragon, but at Saint Martha herself.

"Is that all you can come up with?" the girl just grinned at this, while the dragon shielded the girl with his body, "This way you can never beat me!"

"No," Archer calmly agreed. "But I don't need to."


Hassan fled in order to help other Servants in their battles and then bring them to aid Archer, who was in a difficult situation. At least that's what Martha thought.

It is stupid to fall for the same trick twice.

Hassan did run away, but not at all to find someone to help battle the enraged Taraque. Moving a decent distance from the battlefield, Hassan performed the most logical action in the current conditions. Came back.

But invisible.

Hassan had an extremely high rank of Presence Concealment, he could be not afraid to be revealed by almost any Servant, barring a few exceptions, but even if Saint Martha could detect him, then under current conditions he was virtually invisible to everyone. In the collision of such forces, the two Noble Phantasms, the Reality Marble and the dragon, Hassan was like a leaf among the trees. Even if he had not been hiding at the moment, he most likely would not be spotted before it was too late. However, Hassan chose not to risk it, therefore at the moment he moved in silent invisibility following the elusive dragon.

"Could you stop taking the dragon further every time I prepare for the jump?" Hassan sighed once again when the beast left the last trajectory which Hassan was preparing. Despite even his invisibility and the battle that was happening opposite him, Assassin did not want to take risks, so he prepared himself for the fact that this would be his only chance. His opponent was a dragon, a real dragon. Even in the current conditions, if the dragon retained even a part of his awareness, it would be no problem for him to see Hassan jumping onto his back, and therefore it would not be difficult for Martha to detect his presence.

Therefore, Hassan sneaked behind, waiting for the moment. One movement, second, third one...

"A chance!" Hassan responded instantly and was in the air before the dragon could move.

He let his black, tattered cloak slide off his shoulders and down to his waste, where his belt kept it in place, this exposed his hands. More precisely, only the right hand.

Hassan's left hand was wrapped with a variety of black belts and seals, like a priceless relic, which it actually was. In his life, Hassan sacrificed not only his face, but also his left hand, in order to gain the strength necessary for the new leader of the Hashishin clan.

Instantly, his left hand, wrapped in straps, swelled, and before Assassin's feet touched the dragon, the seals on his hand burst, exposing what was hidden beneath.

Hassan was extremely tall, even though he was painfully thin and constantly stooped, his height exceeded two meters, and yet, the hand that emerged from under the wrapings was disproportionately huge for his body. If Hassan had exposed it completely, it would easily have reached three meters, and that would still not be the limit.

The red hand, filled with a painfully scarlet color, contained something within it, a sealed evil... a Shaitan.

And Hassan was going to take full advantage of its power.

The instance Hassan landed on the dragon's back, he rushed forward at incredible speed, and even faster, he threw his left hand forward. Stretching out like a serpent, his clawed scarlet hand ignored all the laws of physics and anatomy, bending as if without bones, in pursuit of its goal.

Saint Martha was defended by a miracle. A true miracle, given by the Lord. A miracle that directed her hand when she attacked and kept her body safe from harm, increased her strength and allowed her to avoid her fate. But even a miracle has its limits, as it did not provide immunity against another miracle such as magic capable of a miracle, or a crystallized miracle...a Noble Phantasm. So when Martha finally responded to the threat that appeared from nowhere, it was too late.

One touch of the cursed hand ended everything. Touching the Saint's heart, Hassan felt a ghostly connection with the her appear in his hand.

"Zabaniya," he said detachedly and in an instant, when Hassan was near the Saint, her heart spattered in his hands in all directions with blood. Saint Martha merely coughed up blood, feeling how instantly all energy disappeared from her body, and her dragon froze in place.

"This is the end," Hassan said calmly, after which, he glanced at the dying woman.

However, she, having fallen, was unable to support her body even with her staff, instead of dying, only found Hassan's gaze and, instead of a curse, she twisted her lips slightly in a smile.

"Do you think that's all?" To this, Martha only stretched her lips even more, turning a smile into a foxish smirk "I was not known as the Saint that summons dragons. I was known as the Saint, who subjugated the dragon."

And with these words, Martha gave one last laugh and, with a sigh, closed her eyes.

However, her dragon did not disappear.

Hassan stopped for a second before he felt a shiver. This tremor did not come from within him, but from the creature on which he stood. From the dragon.

And it was not a shiver of panic or horror, but a shiver rising from the depths of rage.

Sensing this, Hassan just instantly jumped off Tarrasque's head, thinking only of one thing.

"I hope that now at least someone will help with our battle..."


Arthurias's body ached from the stresses and wounds inflicted by Lancelot.

Even if he fought with a wooden trunk, he was not inferior to the King of Knights. His attacks were accurate, his skill was unmatched, and his strength was undeniable.

Arthuria avoided a strike, then jumped back, breaking the distance with the insane knight.

Her mana reserves came to an end, and the mana bursts became less and less frequent, she was exhausted from the battle.

However, her opponent was also exhausted.

Lancelot still continued to look at her with unspeakable hatred, and his attacks were still as terrifying as they were at the very beginning of the duel, but Arthuria knew her old friend too well to miss all the signs of his fatigue. Now he stood a little more uncertainly than at the beginning of the battle, the end of his weapon was slightly tilted to the ground, and Lancelot himself allowed Arthuria to break the distance, instead of rushing after her, trying to inflict a crushing defeat on her with a series of bestial attacks.

Lancelot was stronger than Arthuria and significantly more skilled in fencing, but that did not mean that he was invincible. Despite all his accomplishments and his nature as a Servant, he was still vulnerable. Not in any way weak, but not omnipotent.

An extended battle would exhaust Lancelot completely, leaving him defeated.

If not for the fact that Arthuria was exhausted and wounded much more than Lancelot.

Despite the fact that Arthuria took the place of the leader, she was not the strongest among the knights of the Round Table.

However, unlike Lancelot, she had one trump card.

Arthuria, noticing her opponent approaching, managed to react and rushed to the side. If Lancelot was less tired, then with this maneuver Arthuria would not be able to escape from his attack, but in the current conditions, Arthuria could not afford the luxury of avoiding using a mana burst.

The battle in the current conditions was impossible.

If only she had asked for help from Ainz...

'No,' she brushed aside this thought, 'Lancelot is my mistake, and I must be the one who ends his life.'

Firmly grabbing her black blade with her second hand, Arthuria stopped.

Dark energy swirled around the blade, which did not reflect light, becoming like a tangible storm.

Once, her blade was a holy sword, giving hope, the blade of the true king, beloved by the people and ruling the knights.

No, Excalibur still remained undefiled, in her real identity, the identity of Arthuria Pendragon, the King of Knights.

But the Arthuria who fought now was not this noble king. She was a Tyrant who seized power in Britain, a desecrated black king, who accepted his power, his dragon's blood and his hatred. And her Excalibur was distorted like her personality, from a holy sword, embodying the king's divine right to power, it turned into a symbol of her downfall, a symbol of her unlimited tyranny, a symbol of her black hatred.

Grabbing the blade tighter, Arthuria focused her eyes on her opponent who, sensing something was going to happen, rushed toward her.

She and Lancelot were not so different. Lancelot plunged into the abyss of madness, rejecting his knighthood, as Arthuria rejected her honor, plunging into power.

"Excalibur..." Arthuria raised her arms above herself to unleash the power of her blade upon her adversary.

Instincts screamed at once inside her. If she remained the one Arthuria Pendragon, who carried the holy Excalibur in her scabbard, her mind would put out her instincts, allowing her to deliver the final blow, but the mind of this Arthuria was like a predatory beast, forcing her to obey her animal instincts, forcing her to immediately rush away from the source of danger.

Lancelot, even if he was an unsurpassed swordsman, in such a mad form was not able to obey his mind, and therefore could not escape from imminent danger.

For a few seconds, everything around Arthuria was clouded with smoke and fumes, forcing the girl to cough before the roar hit her ears and a wave of air dispersed the veil around her. Arthuria was able to stand on her feet, not allowing the shockwave to knock her down, and after only a few seconds she was able to re-evaluate the situation in which she found herself.

Understanding og what happened came to her after a few seconds, when her eyes could find her Master soaring in the heights, slowly lowering his hand after creating a spell.

"Another of the Master's incredible spells" the puzzle has finally formed in her head. The Master applied another of the spells of the Age of Gods, and its area of effect reached the battles of other Servants. This has already happened the last time when his opponent created the spears throughout the battlefield, but now the incident was less ambitious, but much stronger. Arthuria saw how great the destructive power of her Master's spells was and understood that even with her enormous resistance to magic, she could not escape unwounded from it.

Therefore, when the ashes finally fell to the ground, Arthuria expected to see the imprint of destruction on the whole area around.

But she did not expect not to see Lancelot.

The fireball generated by the necromancer swallowed Lancelot, and when the spell finally subsided, the black armor did not emerge from the fiery blaze ever again.

Feeling as if she had found herself in some kind of silly joke, Arthuria looked around and even looked up. However, this also remained true. Lancelot was not in her sight.

Arthuria blinked once, then a second time and a third, completely confused and not understanding what situation she had found herself in, then she looked at her blade.

The black energy of the defiled Excalibur was still circling around its blade, but gradually began to fade, turning from a storm into a snowstorm, and then into a barely noticeable black fog around the blade.

"No" Arthuria blinked "This shouldn't be like this."

Arthuria fought with Lancelot because he was her mistake, she decided to kill him with her own hands because he remained solely her mistake.

He could not just die, by chance, like some kind of insignificant fly.

He was her friend. He was her enemy. She was his executioner.

And Ainz took him away, quite by accident, without even paying attention.

Arthuria lifted her gaze to the sky to find in it a soaring mage, who did not even look in her direction.

Arthuria continued to look at him, ten seconds, twenty...

She would not feel hatred for her summoner, but, looking at the mage now, in her soul, a feeling rose most of all like... An insult? Yes, maybe a grudge.

The girl continued to look at the sky, after which her attention was attracted by a loud roar from the scene of the battle of Archer and Hassan. Moving her gaze to the dragon that was raging there now, Arthuria squeezed her hands on the sword, then rushed to the aid of the other Servants, feeling how an unfamiliar feeling towards the Master was rising in her soul.


She lost?

The one who was called the Dragon Witch asked this question, feeling the heat penetrate her bones.

She is dying?

It was inevitable. This is the result of her loss.

She seemed to be tied back in the center of the fire, watching helplessly as the flame approaches her body.

No!

NO!

N O!

Jeanne burned at the stake.

But the Witch will not allow this to happen again.


Serenity was still bent over the Witch after she delivered the death sentence with her breath, the Witch's fate was finally sealed...but a sharp blow with a plate glove sent Serenity on a short flight.

A bestial roar, as if the Witch had completely lost her mind, slowly began to rise from her chest.

All the Witch's pain and hatred could not be described in simple words, and the girl, burnt by these feelings, could only make a loud roar, like a wild beast that does not have the words to describe all the sensations devouring it.

The girl slowly began to rise from the ground.

"Impossible," Serenity's voice seemed shaken for the first time in the battle. The Assassin, who had risen after the strike, watched the Witch's actions with disbelief, continuing to stay away from the Witch, "Anyone who touches my poison dies. This poison has no antidote and there is no safe concentration, one drop can kill anyone. The only way to escape from this poison is not to become its goal."

However, the Witch did not listen to these explanations. Having risen from the ground, on all four limbs, like a wild dog, the Witch shuddered, after which, a black mass gushed from her mouth like a stream.

Instantly, the sweetish smell of flowers struck Serenity's nostrils, and she glanced at the spreading puddle of black color with disbelief and horror. When it came in contact with the ground, the flowers instantly dried out and the grass died. Serenity was able to identify her poison at a glance.

The Witch's body shuddered several times, throwing Serenity's poison out of itself before it subsided. However, after this, the Witch did not rise, instead she snarled once more.

In this roar there was nothing even resembling human language, only endless bestial cruelty and hatred, and since at that moment, the Witch continued to stand on all four limbs, her resemblance to a beast was even greater.

The girl squeezed her hands into a fist, and then, without straightening up, rushed forward on all fours.

Serenity managed to prepare her blades, but even if at that moment she pierced through the heart of the Witch, she would not slow her down even for a second. Her blades entered the Witch's body, who easily knocked the girl down.

The Assassin fell to the ground, after which, before she had time to do anything, a leg chained in a plate boot struck her in the chest. However, instead of knocking the girl away, the Witch's leg pressed Serenity to the ground, pressing her into the soft grass.

Looking at the Witch's face, Serenity thought that she wanted to say something - but even if the Witch had once been able to speak, now her look was devoid of all hints of logic or reason, so the black blade instantly appeared over Serenity's face.

The Assassin did not even have time to prepare for her death before the situation changed again. In an instant, the pressure of the boot was gone from the girl's chest, after which, Serenity was able to notice how the body of her opponent was sent into flight by a blow.

"I'm sorry" Mashu's voice became noticeable for Serenity earlier than her huge shield casted a shadow on her lying body. "The evacuation took longer than I expected."

Mashu extended her hand to Serenity, but she easily rose from the ground on her own, after which, she looked at the Witch rising in front of her.

It seemed that any semblance of humanity in the Witch at this moment disappeared completely, even her movements now did not belong to a human, but to some monster resembling one.

Issuing a low roar the Witch clutched at her blade.


Medusa continued to fight.

Her wound significantly reduced her capabilities, but Saber, who was left with one arm, also lost in his abilities in equal measure.

Stalemate again.

Medusa continued to attack Saber time after time - and each time it all ended the same way.

Nothing.

Time after time, Rider's blades collided with Saber's sword, each time her chains touched the swordsman's body, his blade left a scratch on Rider's body.

One to one. Rider took off her hat to her opponent. If she had a hat of course.

Continuing this battle in the current conditions was meaningless, and at the same time it was the only thing they both could do. Exchange the same blows with the same result.

Rider was engrossed in her battle and could not be distracted by how the battles of her friends went, because of that, she could not count on their help. She had to act.

Medusa had four trumps, but one of them was useless and one of them her opponent had already managed to see, and paid for it with his own arm. In other words, all that remained for the girl was one of her Phantasms - and a bandage.

Once again, when confronted with a swordsman with blades, the girl retreated to the starting position, again and again, creating a hundred-meter distance between her and her opponent.

"Lady?" her opponent looked at the girl for the last time, then pointed at her with a blade, "Did something happen?"

To this, Rider only raised her hand to her bandage.

Saber instantly realized that he should have interrupted the girl's subsequent action, but even rushing forward, he did not have time.

Rider's hand slid across her face and, for the first time her summoning, her eyes glanced at this world.

The yellow, unblinking gaze of the eyes with black, wide, rectangular pupils glanced at this world, and instantly, Saber felt his body as if plunged into viscous glue. His hands stopped obeying him, and his legs instantly turned into cotton, barely capable of supporting his body.

Saber was able to instantly realize both the nature of the incident and the identity of the individual who was behind this effect.

"Medusa Gorgon," Saber said clearly, noticing how the opponent rushed at him for the final blow "I will remember our meeting."

Saber also had several trump cards.

"Fleur de Lys," Saber's words took form, "Sword Dancing In Falling Lilies."

While his opponent was hiding her eyes, all of his Noble Phantasms were useless. However, now, that Rider had taken off her bandage, she also gained tremendous weakness with strength.

What appeared before the eyes of the girl was a young man. It was impossible to determine whether he was a man or a woman, his short-cropped hair the color of the early sun at dawn, and blue eyes, like crystal-clear water, seemed to be created by the hand of a master who wanted to approach the ideal in his creation. The fragile figure could seduce any person who looked into Saber's bottomless eyes, and the grace with which Saber made every movement was so polished and perfect that they seemed unearthly.

Looking at him, Medusa could feel only how her feelings clouded her mind, and her hands lowered at the sight of such beauty - which is why the white glow of the shining blade did not attract her attention.

In the next instant, Chevalier d'Eon's narrow sword slashed both of Medusa's eyes.

Instantly, Rider was again blind, the pain in her head was given off by blood spilling from her cut face. And Saber, once again having the opportunity to take a deep breath, feeling how Medusa's enveloping pressure had disappeared, did not stop.

Dashing forward, taking his blade, Chevalier prepared to deliver the final blow, only for Medusa's own blade to race toward Chevalier's belly, forcing him to bark in surprise and pain. Chevalier retreated in an instant, regaining control over his senses again.

"I fought you blind before" Medusa "looked" at her opponent "Why did you decide that something has changed now?"

At this Chevalier just broke into a smile, "Lady, you are amazing."

Then, frozen for a second, Chevalier suddenly turned away from his opponent, and then turned to Medusa again "I beg your pardon, noble lady, but I am afraid that this time our battle will remain without winners."

After that, in one instant movement, Chevalier rushed away, having easily beaten off Medusa's daggers thrown at him, dissolving into the distance.

Swaying a little on the spot, Medusa slowly and quietly slid to the earth and covered her missing eyes.


Slowly, the ashes from the burnt stakes dissipated, spreading with the mist in all directions from the spell Ainz used, allowing Vlad's figure to emerge from a smoky cloud, as if the only surviving victim of a battle. In a sense, that was the case.

Ainz continued to look at his opponent with a careful look, expecting movement on his part, however, instead, Vlad only continued to look under his feet, not paying attention to the reality surrounding him.

"Ha..." he finally managed to pronounce, after which, as if somewhat emboldened by what he had said, he continued, "Ha-ha..."

"Ha-ha-ha..." saying again, as if trying out what was said to taste, Vlad was silent for a second, after which he continued, "Ha-ha-ha... Ha... Ha…"

In the end, as if at some point, something finally knocked out Vlad's last bit of sense, the vampire burst into mindless laughter - "HA-HA-HA-HA! HA-HA! HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"

Ainz continued to carefully observe the actions of Vlad, assessing his condition, while the vampire himself was trying to cope with the incessant laughter.

"How long have I waited!" finally, stopping his laughter, Dracula smiled at Ainz floating in the sky, "For how long I waited! For such an enemy... such power!"

"My respect for you, Adam's descendant," Ainz was a little wary of these words, getting ready for Dracula's actions, but instead of attacking, Dracula just smiled at him "But you cannot hide your personality endlessly, even if you tried to do everything to prevent me from guessing, only one was the lord of fire and necromancy on this Earth. My respect to you, Patriarch Canaan."

At this Ainz continued to only silently review his enemy's words, thoughtfully reflecting on what was said by the vampire.

"But what should I do now?", at this, the vampire looked up at Ainz, after which, he threw up his hands, pointing to the surrounding spaces, "My kingdom is destroyed, my trumps are crushed, my lances are burned and my body is mangled. My respect to your strength, patriarch."

Vlad really could not do anything else. Nothing but one.

"But this," the vampire smiled at these words, "I would never have dared to use it under normal conditions, but now, let me enjoy even such meanness, the understanding that you will not be rewarded with a victory over Vlad III. Rejoice that you could only kill Dracula."

"Legend of Dracula," and with these words pronounced, Vlad III, the king, disappeared. In his place came Dracula, a vampire.


Cu Chulainn continued to use rune after rune, having long since switched from the simple throwing of fireballs to difficult tactics. He tried to catch his opponent in a trap, limit her movements, create an illusion, make her explode on a trap lined up in advance, but with persistence and the intuition of a wild beast inside, Carmilla continued to avoid every trap, forcing Caster to frown, inventing new non-working victory tactics.

"Really..." - Cu Chulainn winced - "I will have to use...the second Phantasm?!"

Cu Chulainn called as Caster served as an amalgam of people's ideas about the Druids, so he was able to find his first Noble Phantasm, the Wicker Man, who took the form of the oldest and most famous of the rituals of Celtic priests, the embodiment of cruelty and the power of beliefs in the Old Gods. However, this figure was still created around one existing personality, around the personality of Cu Chulainn, the great hero, and therefore a part of his legend, reflected in people's perception of ancient magi, was embodied as his "personal" Phantasm, his personality, embodied in the beliefs of the priests and people.

It was the main and most powerful trump card up his sleeve. Just thinking that he will have to spend it in the very first battle...

However, Cu Chulainn had to win. Therefore, instead of continuing to draw runes in the air, his hand descended to the belt where his real weapon was kept, the original runes.

His opponent, as if instantly understanding Cu Chulainn's idea, fell to the ground like a wild beast, and then, before Caster touched the perfect runes, rushed forward.

Cu Chulainn's hand touched his weapon, after which his mind touched the Noble Phantasm...

However, his opponent, not stopping, continued her run. When Cu Chulainn prepared to bring the pristine power of the original runes into this world, Carmilla approached the magi, instead of trying to hit him, or chain him again, she jumped over Cu Chulainn like he was an obstacle, and rushed away from him. For a second, Caster was taken aback by this development of events, and therefore, when he turned to his opponent again, she was no longer alone.

At some distance from Cu Chulainn there were three opponents. Carmilla was one of them, her dress was singed, her face was disfigured, and her skin was ripped off her bones in many places, but even so she still had a mind, which was impossible to say about the Dragon Witch.

It seemed as if the Witch was possessed by a demon, her movements were torn and jerky, as if at a spoiled clockwork doll, and the look that continued to wander around the faces around her was like a rabid, harassed dog, ready for its death.

At the last second, next to the two girls appeared... One more. The Servant's body and face were such that it was impossible to determine whether they should belong to a boy or girl, the beauty of the Servant's face blurred up any possible differences between the sexes, which made the mind refuse to perceive the face of a boy or girl as something specific from the fear that the disagreement of the real sex of the Servant with the ideas could spoil his beauty.

Three Servants, all that remained of the army of the Dragon Witch. Cu Chulainn could not vouch that his own group did not manage to incur irreplaceable losses, but regardless of what happened, Caster was inclined to call this battle a victory. Their enemies, who attacked them themselves, retreated.

As if to confirm these words, when the Witch attempted to rush forward, Saber's hand instantly grabbed her by the steel plates and pulled back, as if pulling a dog, after which the Servant himself smiled.

"I ask you to forgive us, noble gentlemen and ladies," Saber smiled for a second, "But I am afraid that our battle is postponed for a certain period of time. Milady is not feeling well."

The next second, Saber slightly leaned toward the Witch, and at that, no matter how fogged her mind was, she lifted her face to the sky and roared, forcing Cu Chulainn to prepare for a new round of battle, but instead of that, black viscous smoke escaped of all the joints of her armor, enveloping the Witch and the Servants surrounding her, rising into the sky. A second later, when a gust of wind dispelled the black cloud that had arisen, the remaining enemy Servants disappeared.


Ainz continued to float in the air, looking at how the transformation of Dracula occurs with increasing horror.

In Yggdrasil, the vampires were not beautiful, they were creepy and terrifying monsters. There was only one mob of vampires, the beauty of which was undeniable, the Vampire Bride. There was also the ability to customize the look of a created NPCs, which allowed someone to recreate the popular trend of the "aristocrats of the night."

The rest of the vampire monsters in the game remained terrifying, and the Lord of Vampires summoned a little earlier by Ainz was one of the most peaceful options.

Dracula's face continued to bend, turning into a monster's mouth, his body continued to stretch, his hands grew claws, and the terrible wounds covering his body were slowly closing before Ainz's eyes.

Ainz felt a surge of panic at the moment when Dracula began to turn, slowly looking like a monster more suitable for Yggdrasil.

"Now he will come in full force!" a moment later, the emotional suppression left only his bare mind "Of course, that's how it would happen. Turning to his true form, the form of the trusted Lieutenant of Cainabel, was to become his Noble Phantasm... of course..."

Ainz's mind told him that if Dracula could still turn into Yggdrasil's Dracula this time, then Ainz would have to throw away his body and fight to the fullest. However, at the same time...

The roar of a demoniac beast came from behind Ainz. A dragon, the real dragon ... Not a wyvern that Ainz could easily destroy, but a dragon... A dragon is almost a death sentence for any player of the hundredth level on his own.

Ainz felt the realization of the impossibility of continuing the mission slowly rise inside. No, he may even have to use Noble Phantasms. Ainz was sure that his chances of victory would be minimal in a battle with Dracula and an unknown dragon, at least in Yggdrasil, which is why, even with all the Servants on his side, he was in a very shaky position.

"Guillotine Breaker"! A resounding girlish voice distracted Ainz for a second. In any other conditions, he would have cursed himself for it, but at that moment, it was for the best, because in this way Ainz could see how the Servant girl who appeared from nowhere, rushed forward to the raging dragon.

The ice, pure as a rhinestone, instantly swallowed up the dragon, climbing up monster's legs and body before Ainz could see that the girl was not moving on her own, all this time she was riding a glass horse, as if made of pure crystal. Ainz saw how the dragon, absorbed in ice, tried to move inside, trying to destroy the ice mountain in which he found himself, before the girl riding the horse headed to the very center of the ice mountain. However, a second before the collision, the girl made a jump, worthy of a gymnast, after which, she landed on the ground at the same time her glass mare struck the ice barrier, which instantly exploded. For a moment, millions of fragments reflecting the light hid the figure of the huge dragon. However, when they finally fell to the ground, there was no longer any monster in place.

Ainz, looking at the events unfolding before him, just now noticed that a man was with the girl, whom he had not noticed before, after which he turned his gaze to his opponent who had finally finished taking his new form.

Dracula was finally able to take on his disgusting form of a beast, but having got rid of one distraction factors, Ainz was ready to try to fight a new one.

"Napalm," he said instantly, after which he teleported upwards and continued, "Napalm."


Emotional Suppression - is a unique skill of the Overlord race, the highest form of magicians among the undead and undead among magicians.

This skill is similar to many Servant skills by the result of its action, since it provides protection for the mind of its user from certain mental effects. However, it is extremely different in the mechanism of its action. While the Protection of Faith provides protection of the mind through endless faith in God, and Detachment through the denial of emotions, this skill virtually expels emotions from the mind of its user. Instead of just putting them down or finally making them disappear, this skill not only destroys the emotional imprint, but also all possible judgments or conclusions that could be affected by the emotion. Although this skill may be the most effective from a practical point of view, because it provides the absolute efficiency of the user's mind, the absence of empathy for certain things can be a problem.
 
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Chapter 17: After battle
Chapter 17: After battle

After using his main, final and strongest trump card, Dracula became even weaker than before. It was paradoxical, but it was true.

Vlad's last trump card was that if he had accepted himself as Dracula, he would have gained all his mythical abilities as a vampire: tremendous strength, speed, vitality, and, most importantly, tremendous regeneration, but the problem was somewhere else.

According to the rules of Yggdrasil, most types of the regeneration did not extend to the damage caused by negative energy, acid and fire. Having taken the form of an undead, Dracula finally rejected all protection against fire, which was bestowed on him by his human body.

If Dracula collided in this new, liberated state with any other Servant, like Arthuria, Lancelot, or Cu Chulainn, he could easily destroy them. Even in a battle with the greatest among all Servants such as Karna, Gilgamesh, Scatach, he might stand a chance.

But for Ainz, he became only an even easier and more vulnerable target than before. Having lost the ability to create stakes, he lost the opportunity to attack Ainz, who was hovering in the sky, and even if he could reach him, Ainz with his teleportation would simply leave him at that moment. However, this was not the worst part, because, having lost his mind, Dracula turned into a crazy, bloodthirsty beast, that even forgot about the very minimum of military tactics. In other words, when a column of fire engulfed his body, instead of planning for different options for his battle with the mage, the vampire only rushed at him in a head-on attack. It was in vain.

By the time the Servants, exhausted after their battles, reached the place where the battle between Ainz and Dracula took place, Ainz had long since gotten down to the ground, and was now only continuing to examine the ashes and black coals left by what was once the most powerful vampire.

"Hmmm" the mage's slightly interested voice caught the attention of the Servants before the necromancer's hand grabbed something from the very depths of the black ash, which immediately fell apart "Data Crystal. Good."

After these words, the mage's hand disappeared into the black portal that appeared next to him, after which, the crystal, shimmering with soft light, disappeared, and when the mage's palm appeared again from the hole, there was nothing in it.

Only after this did Ainz reacted to the approaching Servants and turn to them.

It was impossible to say for sure what attracted his attention, the two new Servants who appeared next to him, the blood that continued to drip from under the blindfold covering Medusa's eyes, or the looks that Arthuria still continued to award him. Ainz hesitated for a few seconds before choosing to prioritize matter of the new faces that appeared at the last moment of the battle.

The first them catch Ainz's attention was a young girl. She looked hardly over sixteen years old, her ash-blond hair was braided into two tight curls hanging from the sides of her head, while the remaining hair framed a neat, sweet, childishly naive little snub-nosed face with blue eyes looking at a world with a kid-like admiration and curiosity. Her almost childish body was dressed in a tight-fitting red dress, turning below the waist into a short miniskirt, barely hiding her legs, covered a little lower with high white stiletto boots, while on her hands were short gloves that covered her palms.

In contrast to her looks, the man next to her appeared tall and thin, his long arms had long thin fingers reminiscent of the claws of some carnivorous bird, and were dressed in high white gloves, going deep into the hollow spacious sleeves of his outfit, which seemed to be a solemn uniform embroidered with gold embossing, on his shoulders was a grandiose black cloak with a gold lining. However, while the girl was beautiful, there was nothing special about the man's face, his long sun-blond tangled hair and gray eyes, together with sharp thin features, a narrow long nose and thin lips made him look rather groomed, than charming, because of which, his figure served rather as a shade of beauty for the young girl, lost on her background.

Ainz carefully looked at the two arrivals, after which, after a little thought, he looked at the man behind the young girl. However, instead of him, the young girl was the first to speak:

"Since you have already seen my Noble Phantasm," the girl smiled, "I think it makes no sense to hide further. Servant Rider, Marie-Antoinette, nice to meet you!"

The girl curtsied at this, and although Ainz, for obvious reasons, had never such things and could not confidently judge her performance of such an aristocratic action, in his opinion, the performed curtsy looked flawless.

"And this, is my friend and colleague." after the perfect action, the girl pointed her elbow at the man, who, having ceased to glance at Arthuria, finally reacted:

"Servant Caster, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart," the man bowed after these words.

Ainz was not completely sure what he was supposed to do at that moment. Courtesy demanded reciprocal courtesy, however, such a disclosure of all cards from the very beginning of communication seemed unusual to him. On the other hand, finding Jeanne with a glance, while she was not far from him, still supporting her wounded body with a banner stuck in the ground, Ainz recalled their first meeting and doubted it. Perhaps he really should have disclosed at least minimal information about himself in return ...

"Ainz" the mage finally decided, "If you want to talk to the rest of the Servants, then I have no right to disturb you."

"Oh, of course," Marie blurted out a smile at this and instantly flew out of the conversation with Ainz, before he could continue it, "Oh, please forgive me, will you tell me your name?"

"Jeanne," the Saint only smiled at this question, "Jeanne d'Arc."

"Wow!" Ainz could almost see how Marie Antoinette's eyes lit up, "Jeanne d'Arc itself! Incredibly, I never even dreamed that I could meet you alive!"

At this Ainz just looked at the two girls talking to each other, after which he looked at the man who remained in front of him. He, as if catching the mood of the mage, only sighed and shrugged, as if saying "it always happens", and then turned to Ainz, "Please forgive me, Her Majesty did not want to offend you with her neglect, she's just one of those so-called "airheads"."

"Nothing of the kind, old pervert!" as if reacting to this, Marie interrupted her conversation with Jeanne, after, which she cast an angry look at Mozart, "I'm just familiar with the aristocratic life and understand that sometimes competent people should do the real work, so Amadeus, I entrust you with this important mission while I make contacts!"

And satisfied with the answer, the girl turned to Jeanne and continued the conversation, making Mozart once again sadly and heavily breathe, as if he were doing some incredibly hard, but necessary work.

Ainz did not know how he should react to this small exchange, so he chose the safest way "Thank you for interfering in the battle a little earlier. If not for you, the battle would not have ended without loss"

"I doubt it" Caster said simply, after which, he looked at the ashes left by the great vampire, already thoroughly blown by the wind around the field, after which, he looked at Ainz, "In any case, we are always happy to help."

"Thank you," Ainz bowed briefly to this, after which, he looked at Marie Antoinette, who had already thrown a conversation with Jeanne and was trying to hug Serenity. To her credit, Serenity, who could have rid herself of yet another potential rival in such a simple way, was not giving in to the girl's embrace.

Having come to the conclusion that the new Servants were still more likely allies, Ainz went on to the following matters.

'And yet…' the thought slipped through his head, 'Marie Antoinette and Mozart ... This is someone famous, right?..'


Medusa slowly pulled off her mask, exposing the face disfigured by the blow, devoid its eyes. She expected Ainz to be taken aback, or maybe make a wry face, but instead the mage only raised a hand to her face calmly, "Does it hurt?"

Medusa wanted to object to this, but as soon as he touched the cut, she involuntarily hissed, as the necromancer tore off a thin crust of clotted blood from her eyes with an inaccurate movement, causing them to bleed again, to which the mage just nodded "so it hurts."

Ainz did not quite understand why he was doing this, he was not a doctor, and knowing whether Medusa's wound was painful or not would not have brought him anything, rather, he simply acted as dictated to him by the knowledge of films and programs he watched.

"It's okay, Master" Medusa instantly tried to make up for her involuntary reaction "The wound will be closed in the next few days."

It was a logical phrase, it meant that if the girl's wound would be healed in a few days, then she was not a liability, and the reduction in combat capabilities in this case was temporary and insignificant, which means his intervention was not needed. But still…

"Hmm, maybe," Ainz indefinitely held out, looking at the red strip stretching horizontally across the girl's face through her eyes and nose. Even if Medusa was just slightly injured, she was still injured. And what was much worse, she was injured due his decisions.

"Something wrong, Master?" noticing his silence as he continued to look at her face, Medusa asked him again, but the mage said nothing, continuing to think.

From an objective point of view, Ainz did not have to spend even the smallest crumbs of his resources on Medusa. Especially if Ainz had limited quantities of these resources at his disposal, but at the same time...

Ainz was a collector by nature, this was one of the defining features of his personality and a motivation for his behavior, not only things that were almost impossible to get were stored in his inventory, but also, those things that should have been spent a long time ago. Potions, wands, tonics, amplifiers, poultices, staves, scrolls, crystals... all that Ainz did not use because he considered it "too valuable" or prepared it for when he "truly needed it", and after that, the need for these items finally disappeared as they became obsolete. In other words, even things absolutely useless for him, such as dresses, were stored in his inventory, simply because he once put them there.

Healing potions were useless for Ainz, no, in fact, they were even dangerous for him. Healing potions were a concentration of positive energy, while Ainz, who was undead, was a concentration of negative energy. In other words, the healing potion was supposed to hurt him as much as it was supposed to heal sentient beings. It was useless to him.

However, Ainz, being a miser by nature, still continued to accumulate such potions when they came to him, which lead to countless vials of the weakest healing potions piling up in his inventory, enough to fill a small sea, not to mention the more powerful healing potions, or potions with other effects that mimic healing, or other things with similar effects. Ainz possessed almost endless supplies of any consumable in the game. However...he was a miser.

If he saw a simple person dying from the plague, then even with thousands of bottles of "Healing from the disease" potions, Ainz would pass by.

However, Medusa was not an ordinary person. She was Ainz's Servant, and therefore, a subordinate of the negligent boss Ainz, who took the name of all his friends as his own. So he could not afford to dishonor the name of their glorious guild by cowardice and treason.

So with a sigh, Ainz reached out into the black hole of his inventory and pulled out a small red phial. The liquid splashing inside was like blood, but only partially. It was a dense red liquid that did not leave a residue on the walls of the bottle, scattering the rays of the sun breaking through the tent, where Ainz and the wounded Medusa were now. "Potion of minor healing."

"Well," in the end, the guy handed the potion to the girl after a second of doubt, "Drink it."

"Thank you, Master," but instead of obeying his orders, Medusa only shook her head, "But I assure you that this wound will close on its own after a few days. You don't have to spend any of your stock on me."

"I know," Ainz agreed to this, and insistently handed the girl the phial, "Drink it."

"Master, I really don't need this," Medusa stubbornly refused again, "I can regenerate it on my own."

Of course, from the outside it might seem that Medusa was stubborn because of her warring character, because she did not like her Master or because she did not trust the potion, but in reality, the reason was nothing like this. The problem was that Medusa did not think that she was worth the cost of a healing potion.

Of course, she still felt the pain from the wound, and it was unpleasant to feel a void in place of her eyes, and she felt uncomfortable because she could not feel her usual blindfold. However, Medusa did not consider this to be sufficient reason for her Master to spend his resources on her.

Medusa saw herself as a Servant, a tool, a weapon, a doll, a monster, anything, but not a living person. And therefore, she sincerely did not understand Ainz's attempt to heal her wounds. For her, it seemed as strange and redundant as trying to console a scratched table with kind words. An unnecessary action that did not fit the situation because of its banal absurdity.

However, Medusa's Master still continued to insist that she drink the potion, so the girl was still forced to give in.

"Good," she took the phial from the hands of the mage, after that, she poured the red liquid inside herself. The potion did not have any specific taste, rather, it simply resembled fresh spring water. However, instantly, the girl felt a pleasant coolness spreading across her body, and felt her flesh grow together with a not unpleasant, but strange sensation and slowly take on the same shape of her eyes.

After a couple of seconds, the girl felt how the cut on her face disappeared, after which, she blinked several times.

However, despite the fact that the wound was physically repaired, the girl was still blind. Her vision did not return to her.

Slowly, the girl raised her hand in front of her to make sure what happened, and then ran it across her face, feeling only perfectly restored skin and eyes under her fingers.

"Something is wrong?" To this Ainz turned to the girl, forcing her to startle.

Of course, something was wrong, because the girl's vision did not return. However, Medusa felt somewhat guilty that Ainz's potion did not cure her blindness, so she only shook her head.

However, Ainz, sensing something in her actions, thought for a bit, and with a sigh, looked at the girl carefully, "Your vision has not been restored?"

Medusa could continue to deny the obvious, but instead, the girl only nodded slowly, feeling guilty about what had happened.

"Of course, I could have guessed," Ainz sighed. Simple healing spells could heal any wounds, however, if the wound was accompanied by a status effect such as "trauma" or "crippled" for example, or when an eye was injured or a hand was lost, then a simple healing spell might not be enough. Thus, the potion was able to heal a simple wound, restoring Medusa's health, but not her vision.

To this, Ainz just moved his hand to the side, allowing it to hide in the void of his inventory.

"It's not worth it, Master," realizing what will happen next, Medusa tried once again to force Ainz to give up, but it was useless. Although Ainz did not want to spend his consumables just like that, he was also not used to being limited to half measures.

"Good," stretching out a new phial, this time with a slightly unclear purple liquid, he handed it to Medusa and, not listening to her timid objections, made her drink the liquid.

Instantly, as a sensation of pleasant lightness spilled over the girl's body, an image appeared in front of her eyes. She was able to see the awning in front of her, its walls swaying in the wind, and the man sitting opposite her, and looked into his eyes.

A moment later, Medusa closed her eyes and looked away, "I'm sorry!"

"Hmm?" Ainz just tilted his head slightly, after which, realizing, he nodded, "Don't be. I have strong protection against magic, and additional protection against petrification and paralysis, so you do not have to worry about looking at me."

Medusa only paused for a few seconds.

She wanted to look at her Master, she really wanted to, but she realized that any person she looked at would instantly die, petrified. Of course, her Master was not weak, it was unequivocal, but even the Servants could not defend themselves completely from her strength. Perhaps he simply could not recognize the powers of the damned eyes of Medusa...

The girl thought for a second, after which, nevertheless, she trusted her Master and slowly opened her eyes.

Ainz turned out to be... ordinary?

Medium height, with black short-cut hair, carelessly combed with a parting in the middle, with a completely ordinary face and black eyes, medium build, a little older than twenty-five, the most ordinary man. Although…

It would seem that every trait in Ainz was ordinary, but at the same time... Something was particularly prominent. The usual physique seemed ideally suited to his face, the color of his eyes perfectly combined softness and depth, his eyes balanced on the fine line between severity and softness. As if even looking normally, he still managed to look especially significant, as if even the most ordinary body could not hide the greatness lurking behind.

In fact, the reason for such a strange appearance lied in more prosaic things. In Da Vinci, who created Ainz's perfect body.

However, the fact that this body was created by Da Vinci did not mean that Medusa's thoughts were completely wrong.

The girl continued to look at Ainz, and he, in response, looked into her eyes. For a second, she became scared of this, not only because of the fact that directly looking into her eyes should have been many times stronger than a look from her, but also because Ainz could see the damned eyes of Medusa.

The girl's pupils were forever twisted and the very structure of her eyes took a different look. Her gaze was unblinking, as if serpentine, and the black pupil, resting in the center of the yellow eye, looked like a wide black quadrangle, frozen in the very center of her eyes.

Any person looking at her eyes would shudder at the unnaturalness of the picture that appeared before him.

However, Ainz, looking into these eyes, did not pay any attention to this.

Was this due to his memories of the Yggdrasil monsters? Yes, but only in part. More importantly, Ainz came from the twenty-second century.

Genetic and cybernetic changes were the norm of his time, and therefore Medusa's pupils were not the strangest thing that Ainz had seen in his life. Moreover, his previous boss also wore eye implants, due to which his pupils could freely change shape in the most suitable way for the environment, and in his spare time, the boss preferred to make his pupils look like an hourglass, which is why Medusa's eyes were not even on the list of the top thousand strangest things that happened to the human body that he saw.

Therefore, observing the girl, Ainz just nodded to himself, "Do you feel okay?"

"Ha?" on this Medusa blinked once. Although she did not need this normally, she still did so sometimes, in moments of emotional significance.

"Has your vision completely recovered?" the girl only stopped for a second, then slowly nodded.

"Good," Ainz nodded to himself. "In that case, if you need anything, any help, please contact me. I understand that you may not consider me suitable for help. However, I will try to do everything in my power."

For a second, Medusa thought about what was said, after which, only realizing how her attempt to refuse help looked for Ainz, she tried to turn to the mage, but he already went out into the street.

Medusa, staying inside, sighed several times and closed her eyes.

And again, she does everything wrong and causes someone inconvenience because of her stupidity...

The girl sighed at this and pulled the blindfold over her eyes.


After Medusa, Ainz tended to his other subordinates who got injured in the battle, who were almost all of his Servants: Serenity, Cu Chulainn, Archer, Hassan. After some thought, Ainz also decided to deal with Jeanne's injuries. In other words, the last who remained on the list of the wounded and still was not cured was Arthuria. And meeting with her was the thing Ainz was most afraid of.

Arthuria frightened him a little, her cold condemning gaze and eternal detachment seemed to press on Ainz, reminding him that he was an insignificant insect that accidentally ran into the greatest heroes of humanity. At least, they all claimed to be such, and Ainz was inclined to agree with them. At least he had to fight with Cu Chulainn and King Arthur in the past, but back then they looked different and King Arthur was a man. However, as his knowledge prompted to him that ordinary people could not become Servants, Ainz was forced to accept their words without questions.

And so, after healing all the Servants, Ainz stopped in front of the last target, Arthuria, but he hesitated. He did not want to meet this gloomy woman with an aura of power around her, but if he fled now, would that not show him as a weak boss? What kind of boss in the world would run away simply because he did not like his subordinate?

No, if you think about it, Ainz could recall how his colleagues once talked about the fact that someone from a street gang decided to get a job in an office nearby and the boss sent his deputies exclusively to talk with him...

Subsequently, when one of the deputies reprimanded the newcomer, he was shot dead on the threshold of his house few days after...

Ainz flinched, because such a line of thought did not help him to concentrate on his actions nor gather his strength, after that, he shook his head and resolutely took a step forward, finding himself in a dark place one on one with the girl.

No, in fact, the shelter created by Ainz was the same in all cases, the eighth-rank spell "Create Base" created a minimally liveable camp of arbitrary size with the minimum necessary supplies for almost any number of people, so Arthuria's shelter should not look different than the shelter of any other Servant. The girl's temporary base was darkened solely by the fact that she was here, with her black armor, which at the moment was perched aside, leaning on a small armor rack.

Ainz was distracted for a second at observing the standing armor, trying to figure out what exactly in the sight in front of him did not give him peace before the voice distracted him, "Master?"

Arthuria turned to Ainz, and guided by the cold tone, the mage turned to the girl, sitting on the bed and, realizing by her appearance what was haunting him, nodded a little.

Until that moment, Ainz had never seen Arthuria without her armor.

Without the black armor that gave her volume and gloom, the girl herself looked... Fragile?

Perhaps not as fragile as a precious vase or crystal decanter, but as fragile as a piece of art, cold and majestic.

The girl in front of him was pale and not as impressive as Ainz remembered her in his memoirs just a second ago. There was clotted blood on her pale skin, and Ainz could see a couple still open wounds, in many places, her luxurious evening dress was torn.

'I didn't know that she wears a dress under the armor…' Ainz thought for a second, looking at the girl before her voice led the guy out of thought.

"Master, did you want something?" the girl looked at the guy who had just noticed her sheathed blade lying next to her.

"Yes," finally gathering strength, Ainz took a step toward the girl, "Here, a healing potion."

Ainz handed the girl a phial, who, carefully looking at the bottle, accepted it without a word and drank it instantly.

A soft radiance spread across her body, after which, she calmly gave the bottle to the magician, "Is that all?"

To this, Ainz hesitated for a second, "If you have any other wounds or problems..."

"No," the girl answered shortly, after which, she asked again, "Is that all?"

"Yes, perhaps," having failed to say something else, Ainz was forced to agree with Arthuria.

"Good," the girl answered once again and returned to her sword.

Ainz should go out and get further away, but the feeling that something was wrong did not let him go. Despite the fact that Arthuria looked and even behaved the same as before, some feeling did not allow him to simply leave the tent and go about his business. Memories of strange looks that the girl threw at him not so long ago forced Ainz to open his mouth again, "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Master," Arthuria answered as coldly and clearly as always, after which she turned her gaze to the mage, "I'm fine."

Ainz frowned at the words. Of course, he was poorly versed in Servant lore, but still, there was a reason why he could become a compromise figure for forty renegades of society, ready to lead them all, "I may not be the best bo... Master, but still I am ready to do everything in my power to help my subor... Servants."

At this Arthuria just looked at the necromancer unimpressed, and then sighed, "Such perseverance should be punished."

After these words, Arthuria nevertheless set aside her blade and looked into the eyes of the Master, "Why did you do it?"

"It?" Ainz blinked for a second, after which, as if a light bulb popped up above his head, - "Ah, so you say... It's About "that"…"

Ainz had no idea what "It" she was talking about, he could not even imagine what the girl was thinking right now, but he understood that a boss who could not even see his mistake was the worst of all possible bosses, so leaving himself an internal note about the need to find out what "It" girl had in mind later, Ainz nodded in understanding.

"Yes," Arthuria also nodded slowly, realizing that her Master was still able to understand what the girl meant, "Why did you do it?"

'What are you talking about!?' Ainz wanted to scream at the girl, but instead Ainz's brain was busy with other work, he tried to come up with the most convincing lie that he could "Ahem, this... Sometimes such actions are necessary."

"I understand that," the girl only nodded. "However, it was my duty. I had to do it myself."

"Oh, ahem!" Ainz suddenly realized that after this remark he finally lost the thread of reasoning he thought he shared with the girl and was forced to trust blind intuition, "Ahem... Sometimes the Master's duty is to do such things on his own..."

"Is it?" Arthuria looked at Ainz calmly, "It is my duty as a knight... No, as a king."

'Oh, at what moment did we start talking about kings?!' Ainz mentally shuddered at the moment when the conversation turned in this direction, but his face did not even raise an eyebrow at these words, "I have no doubt in your ability to fulfill your duty. However, my duty as a Master is to help you."

To this, Arthuria only looked at the mage with a curious look, and although his appearance did not suggest any possibility to support such loud words with actions, remembering his terrifying power, the girl was forced to agree that he could fulfill what was said, "My decisions are my responsibility and I do not I need someone's help to take care of them."

"I understand this," feeling that he talked away from the dangerous "It," about which he had no idea, Ainz wisely nodded. "And I'm not saying that you need help. However, just as you have your duty, so do I as a Master. My duty is to help those Servants that I have called. If I can't even help you, then what worth am I as a real guil... Master."

For a second, Arturia's gaze, which Ainz could swear touched him, burned him, as if evaluating and weighing all the arguments, but the girl nevertheless gave up and looked away, "I do not need your help."

"But you can always count on it," Ainz nodded. If he still had to become the boss in the end, he planned to become the best boss he had never had!

Arthuria only rolled her eyes at these words, hardly noticeable, but Ainz could still see this, and then turned around from the mage, letting him know that their conversation was over, to which, the necromancer just nodded and walked away.

Arthuria, left alone, reached for her sword again and was easily able to get it out of its sheath and look at the blade.

The blade of her sword was anthracite-black, however, unlike the black blade of the Dragon Witch, it still reflected the light in his calm state, so Arthuria was able to see herself in the reflection.

For a few seconds, the girl continued to look at her face, after which, having sighed completely humanly, she returned the blade back to the scabbard and put it away from her.

Ainz though, as soon as he took a step out, came face to face with Mashu, hurrying somewhere. The girl, as soon as she saw the Master, brightened, and then hastened to tell him the important news, the person they saved woke up.


Mashu hurried to meet Ainz, so only half of the Servants gathered at the man's door.

In addition to Mashu and Ainz, Jeanne, Mozart and Marie were at the door of the tent, so, when the mage approached them, the last one of those waved friendly to him, and before the magi could react in any way to her actions, she disappeared inside the tent, only having time to wave back to the door flaps. Mozart, observing her actions, only sighed and followed. Jeanne, having seen the actions of two and not finding any reaction from Ainz to this, also hesitantly pulled away the tent flaps and entered after the two.

Ainz, though he was the Master, was actually the last to enter, so the scene he found was somewhat different than could be expected.

The rescued man was very young, literally twenty years old, and, as any victim of torture should be, he was naked. Trying to fix this, the man tried to cover his lower body with a sheet pulled from the bed, but at the same time, for lack of other weapons, the man tried to shake menacingly his fists in the air, brushing off the onset of two girls and one unfortunate man who was forced to babysit with them. No, to be more precise, he tried to isolate himself from only one girl.

"Back away, Witch!" the man literally burned with anger, splashing his fist in a formidable shock in the air directed at Jeanne, "I did not give up the last time, and my opinion will not change! Kill me! I won't join you, Witch!"

"I apologize, I do not want to harm you!" Jeanne tried to take a step forward, but being afraid of hurting the man in front of her, she was forced to immediately retreat when he waved his fist at her, "Excuse me, I'm not an enemy!"

Marie also participated in this skirmish, however, instead of helping Jeanne, or even the beating man, it seemed that she simply enjoyed the situation itself, interfering with the process more than helping.

Mozart tried to make the biggest contribution to solving the problem by trying to get Marie out of the mess, but she, bursting out with a childish laugh, only continued to leave his tenacious hands and walk around other people, bringing additional chaos to the already complicated situation.

Ainz watched the scene for several seconds, trying to determine which of the two things required more of his attention, after which, with a sigh, he extended his hand forward.

"Mass Hold Species" the spell in his hands instantly took shape, and then bursted into reality, fettering people. All targets of the spell instantly lost all power and ability to resist, freezing like silent dolls. The bodies of the frozen could not make a single movement, even talking and moving their eyes was impossible in their case. If Ainz wished, this spell would instantly become a death trap, because by controlling all the muscles and the smallest movements in the body, the mage could force the captured to stop breathing. However, the necromancer naturally did not want this.

Calmly, Ainz took a few steps across the tent, after which, making sure that all those who had frozen understood the situation they were in, lifted the spell.

Mozart took advantage of this first, seizing one of Marie Antoinette's arms, who, despite the fact that she had her fun a little bit halted, could easily turn the situation into even more chaos than it was at any time.

Next, the unknown man reacted, picking up the sheet that had slipped off during the paralysis, the man took a step back, but now, knowing that his opponent was able to paralyze him, the man seemed to have reconciled with his fate and now only looked at Ainz with malicious anger.

With a sigh, Ainz took a step forward, putting himself a little behind Jeanne, and looked into the eyes of the man standing in front of him.

Recalling all his experience as a seller and clerk, Ainz tried to convincingly smile at his new acquaintance, "Good afternoon. My name is Ainz, and it so happened that at the moment you are in the camp run by me and my subordinates…"

"Witch's servant!" interrupting the mage, the man glanced at Jeanne, standing next to Ainz, "Do you think that I will forget the one who betrayed me, and the entirety of France?!"

"No," Ainz nodded, and then shook his head. Even Ainz himself was suspicious at the first meeting with Jeanne, so it would be naive to assume that he would be able to convince a person who personally met with the Witch so easily "But I think that you understand that if we were working with Witch, then we would not need to take you out of the cage in the square, or even more, to heal you."

The man frowned at this, unconsciously acknowledging the veracity of the words of the mage, "The Witch has repeatedly tried to trick me. She didn't succeed earlier, she won't succeed now!"

After these words, the man glanced at Jeanne, who, as if being burned by him with a glance, took a step back, now standing behind Ainz.

"Ahem," Ainz paused. It would be foolish to deny that this is all a trick of the Witch because any of the minions sent by the Witch would do so. However, Ainz had another argument, "In this case, this attempt to gain your trust is extremely ineffective."

"Hmm?!" the man only looked at the mage angry and a little concerned.

"To begin with, we initially brought the Witch to you," after glancing at Jeanne Ainz noticed, how she flinched a little at the moment her opponent was mentioned, "Then we healed you completely without your awakening and did not even leave supervision from us. In this case, the best way would be to provide you with a minimum restoration of strength so as not to let you die, and then awaken you. Then, while you were already conscious, we would leave you a "caregiver", who would be both a supervisor and a jailer, at the same time, he would do minor medical work and maintain contact with you, because of which, you would be forced to become more emotionally close to this person. Then it would be necessary to imitate the lack of supplies, one of our group should advocate to abandon you, after which, the nurse assigned to you would give you his supplies, forcing you to react to him or her with even greater emotions. Then, after some time, it would be possible to conduct a false attack of the Dragon Witch forces on the camp, where the nurse would protect you during your helplessness, having received a wound in the process. After that, we could finish the treatment as soon as possible and the person appointed as your nurse would enjoy your full trust, which would allow us to find out any of your secrets after about a week or, in the worst case, two."

After these words, echoed in an empty tent, all those present stared at Ainz, as if they had just first seen him for all the time. Even the man who was so prepared to attack, relaxed a little, albeit for a different reason than it might seem.

"You have the magnificent and perverted mind of the Devil himself," Ainz only suddenly felt a rush of embarrassment at these words. Frankly, he simply remembered what Punitto Moe once told him and applied it to the current situation, so he had absolutely nothing to be proud of, "And therefore I believe that you are not a minion of the Witch."

"Huh?" Jeanne, looking at the mage, was more shocked not by the ruthlessness of the plan, but by the man's thoughts, "How does it even work?!"

"Dragon Witch is a dull and impulsive hysterical bitch, she does not have enough patience or brains to think up such a devilish plan. All that was enough for her was to call one of her minions to convince me of how magnificent she is," the man sighed at this, after which, he looked at Jeanne, "I sent her to the Devil and she broke my arm."

"It's sad," Ainz nodded without thinking of any better answer. "Nevertheless, we hoped that we would be able to get some answers from you."

To this, the man only measured the mage with a glance, after which he nodded, "Good. At least we can try to talk."

"Good," Ainz nodded, and then introduced himself. "As I said, my name is Ainz."

After that, the man pointed to a girl standing nearby, "Her name is known to you…"

"Jeanne d'Arc," the man nodded, then grimaced, "She is known to me much more than to many, but the fact that she still has not recognized me only supports me in the thought that she is still not the Dragon Witch."

To these words, Jeanne turned to the man, who, trying to maintain the falling sheet, nevertheless did something like a bow "John II of Alenсon".


Emotional Suppression: EX (A +++)

At this level, we can say that at the moment when this skill activates, all emotions, positive and negative, not only cease to exist, but are also fundamentally impossible, and the mind of the user is fundamentally rewritten with this skill in order to not contain even a hint of emotional judgment.

Any methods of emotional or mental influence on the magician are impossible at the conceptual level, be it passion, fear, love, or even an attempt to turn emotions into tangible values, it it all meaningless.

All attacks that use the emotional sphere as a measure of their strength are impossible; not so much because they may lack potency, but because of the lack of a target.

Unique is the fact that, due to the lack of an emotional side, this skill not only defends the mind of the user from emotions, but also from their absence. For example, since the concept of "fear" is alien to Ainz, he cannot be afraid, but he cannot NOT be afraid. In other words, emotions are fundamentally not compatable with an overlord's body, which means that without the ability to experience emotions, and with the inability to not experience them, Ainz is not only invulnerable to mental manipulation, but also unable to achieve nirvana or enlightenment.

The only reason why this skill has had its rank lowered is the fact that this skill appears only sporadically, in cases when emotions can cloud the judgement of the user. If Ainz uses the full power of this skill and its full rank, he will completely and absolutely lose all semblance of emotions or empathy. Further suppression of this skill by gaining emotions is theoretically possible, but at the same time, it is extremely unlikely, because having lost all kinds of emotional attachment, it is unlikely that Ainz's mind will find a reason to return the emotions to their place again.
 
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So I just started reading this and just got done with Chapter 4, and I can't wait for him to summon Shakespeare. Sherlock, or Moriarty, since all of them will see through his mask of fake competence (Those are just the ones I have thought of). Although Shakespeare I don't think would say a single word about it, just applauding loudly and cheering every time he finishes a big speech and internally just loving his new favorite actor.
 
Chapter 18: French army
Chapter 18: French army

After some thought, Ainz decided to conduct a further conversation with John without any extra ears, which naturally meant that Marie Antoinette was in the tent with him, Jeanne and John. Since Marie Antoinette made her way to the interview site, Mozart, who felt guilty of her affairs, was also forced to attend.

Ainz was initially against this, and in other conditions, he would have probably not allowed the young Rider and her protégé to be there, but under these conditions, Marie, was formally the third side of the conversation. Unlike Jeanne, who in fact was nothing without Ainz's, Marie and Mozart still remained Servants in full force and therefore were allowed to participate in the conversation.

'It's like the director of a small company at a meeting of two mega-corporations agreeing on a monopoly' Ainz came to the conclusion with more familiar words 'He is much less influential and can be removed from the conversation, but then his actions might violate the established order in the market ... As I thought, politics are too much for me ... '

The rest of the Servants, who did not hear the mage's thoughts, simply took their places at the small table that appeared with the help of Ainz's magic, after which, they just stared at each other, until John took decided to break the ice.

"So," the experienced soldier and commander sighed, while his gaze was fixed on Jeanne, who instantly stiffened, "I trust my eyes, and my eyes tell me that you are the Dragon Witch."

Jeanne tried to object to this right away, but John only frowned slightly, forcing the girl to shut up instantly.

'What a terrible person …' Ainz just felt a lump in his stomach begin to toss and turn. He was almost two times older than the guy in front of him, but at the same time, he always had great problems communicating with any powerful person, so observing John made him remember unpleasant memories from his work.

"But at the same time, due to certain circumstances," John directed these words to Ainz, who, without changing his expression, shuddered inwardly, "I still have to doubt what I see now, so I'll try to ask you straight. What exactly is happening now with France?"

Ainz had a completely direct answer to this, which, however, would only confuse everything even more, since the mage would have to explain the concept of time travel, parallel worlds, Servants, apocalypse and many other things in the process. Therefore, carefully looking around all at the Servants sitting nearby, the necromancer decided to simplify the incredibly difficult situation to a simple one.

"An evil witch was able to take the form of Jeanne d'Arc and assemble an army of monsters and powerful minions under her command, after which, she attacked France under the guise of Jeanne herself," after these words the mage turned his eyes to the Servants sitting nearby, and especially to Jeanne herself, "That Jeanne that is now sitting in front of you is the real Jeanne, resurrected in order to fight the Witch. I and...the other people that you were called into this world in order to fight the Witch too."

After these words, Ainz looked at John, who, after a little thought, nodded confidently.

"Yes," he concluded solidly, "This is complete nonsense."

After that, the guy sighed, as if resigning himself to what was said, and continued the thought, "But since we have dragons flying through the sky, and the living dead, why not your story too? It is all the same and can't be crazier."

After these words, John closed his eyes for a second and rubbed the bridge of his nose, Ainz wanted to correct the man regarding his comment about dragons, but changed his mind at the last moment.

"Well," John leaned back in his chair, and then looked at Jeanne, who was sitting next to him, studying her "Suppose I believe in your good intentions to save the France. What's next?".

Ainz thought for a second and looked at John in front of him, before he realized that he did not particularly know why he needed John alive.

Initially, he saved him because he believed that he could know some information about the Witch, but if he is an enemy of the Witch, one she had left for the dead in a cell and forgotten about, then his usefulness was actually practically zero.

Coming to this conclusion upset Ainz a little, he did not like to take useless actions.

However, not sharing his despondency, Jeanne at that moment picked up the conversation.

"John of Alanson!" out of the blue, and for the first time since the conversation started, the girl looked the guy directly in the eyes, as if she saw her long-lost friend, "I know that a lot of time has passed, and you may not even believe me, but... we once fought together, under one banner…"

"Yes..yes..I remember this time very well, Jeanne," John said a little dismissively to the girl, after which, he sighed, "But what now? Do you want me to go with you on a new reckless attack? Jeanne, I am only one person, I am no match for the monsters serving the Witch."

It was difficult to argue with this, even one wyvern posed a threat to several hundred men, let alone one. However...

"On the way to Charite, we saw a dead wyvern" Ainz recalled this fact, after which, as if he had just snapped back to reality, he looked at the man, waiting for his reaction to this out of the blue comment.

Fortunately or not, however, John took what was said as a complete sentence with an underlying meaning, which made him look at the mage with certain dislike in his eyes "Yes, we killed one of these monsters. So what? Hundreds of people gave their lives to kill it, only to rise as the living dead on the Witch's side and attack their friends minutes later. You did not see what happened to us."

"The zombies in Charite... You fought there".

"Yes," John only sighed and grimaced at that, "I was the commander that fought the only real battle against the forces of the Witch. I fought, and lost, miserably. My teachers' souls probably won't be able to rest in their graves after my failure in that battle.

"And maybe" the guy grinned unhappily, "They are back in this world, waddling somewhere in dilapidated bodies under the Witch's direction."

Ainz sighed at these words, after which, he looked at the guy in front of him. Of course, it was pleasant for him to see someone with common sense, since this proved to him that the world around him was still working according to the same laws that he was used to, but at the same time, the mage unexpectedly discovered that working with a servant with an illogical understanding of human society was much easier for him than dealing with a normal human.

Jeanne's worldview, although unusual for him, was simple, if there is evil, then you must go and destroy it.

Marie Antoinette and Mozart ... It was already somewhat more difficult with them, since Ainz did not have time to talk with them in any significant way, but they also seemed to share Jeanne's simple view of the state of affairs in this world.

But John did not want to die, and did not intend to go to certain death simply because it seemed to him as the right thing to do. This was absolutely logical, since John was still an ordinary person, maybe not average, but ordinary.

Nevertheless, something in John's view in this case seemed strange to Ainz.

Marie Antoinette intervened in the conversation, most likely trying to convince the man to change his mind, after which, Mozart reluctantly supported her, but Ainz was already lost in thought.

John was an ordinary person like Ainz. Well, in order not to flatter himself, Ainz was ready to accept that John was a much more outstanding person than Ainz. But he was still just a simple human.

The condition they found John in, as well as what he said, both clearly showed that the Witch doomed him to death..no, to torture. For what purpose would she torture him? anger? revenge? self-satisfaction? many reasons came to mind, but Ainz could not find a specific one. However, John endured all these tortures.

Back when he was a human, Suzuki was an ordinary person, If he, fell into the hands of an enemy and suffered torture, he would break. He was not a more of a coward than any ordinary person; he had some principles, but he was aware that torture, pain and bullying forced people far more significant than him to abandon all their principles and boundaries. Suzuki would have broken one way or another. He might have lasted an hour, a day or maybe a whole week, but he would have broken. But John did not break. Why?

Ainz did not have anything that could preserve his mind and spirit during torture. John had such a thing, something that kept him from breaking.

Ainz suddenly froze. Did he really have nothing deep and sublime in his soul?

No, he was not the most outstanding person, but a thing that he would never betray did exist inside him... Ainz Ooal Gown, his shining everything. A guild that gave him his adventures, achievements, life, and family.

At this point, Ainz shifted his gaze to the guy, and then said calmly, "People... It's other people that you are concerned about."

After what was said, John, who was talking with Jeanne about something, suddenly became silent and turned to Ainz. Ainz realized that he had hit the nail on the head.

Jeanne finished her sentence, but there was no response from John. He continued to look at Ainz, as if he had just seen him. Ainsz answered him with the same unblinking look. For a second, the eyes of the two clashed.

Ainz did not like to look people in the eye, it always seemed to him that they were trying to suppress him with their authority, but after years of working in megacorporations, where any significant boss could compete in influence with the as mayor, he learned to withstand such clashes, so, after ten long silent seconds, John looked away.

"Yes," he said, and then sighed, "I was not mistaken. The mind of the Devil himself."

From such a flattering characteristic, Ainz felt a surge of embarrassment, but John continued to speak further.

"Good," John finally turned his back to the Saint to face Ainz, showing who was in charge of the company, "Suppose you're right. What's next?"

Ainz was not quite sure what kind of mystery John decided Ainz had solved, so he tried to ask a general question.

"How many do you have?" the mage glanced at the commander, who exhale and replied "All who remained" he answered vaguely before elaborating "I commanded the battle near Charite. Half of the French army fought under my command, while sixty thousand remained with Gilles and didn't participate."

"Gilles de Rais?" Jeanne instantly recognized the name of her friend and mentor "Is he alive?"

"Alive" the guy admitted with a sigh, after which, he looked at Ainz, "But that was the last time I saw him two weeks ago, which is more than enough to..."

At these words, Ainz nodded. That was John's usefulness.

"You have an army," Ainz glanced at the guy, to which he only grimaced.

"Yes. So what?" he tilted his head slightly to one side "Once, there were sixty thousand of us, but we fought Jeanne... the Witch, and lost."

"But you caused her a few losses," Ainz nodded.

"Yes," John agreed, after which he instantly grinned bitterly, "So what? How many dragons were killed? Fifty? So what? More than a thousand of us died for each of her dragons, and all the dead are on her side. Under her command, thousands of monsters. And this is not even the worst of what she commands."

At this, Ainz just looked at the guy, waiting for an explanation.

"Her henchmen," John only grinned bitterly, "A crazy, beast-like knight in black armor ... a resigned aristocrat with a spear, a black mage with a crazy look, an aristocrat in a mask, a devilishly beautiful girl with a blade, a bestial archer, and a false Saint on a dragon. Each of them can destroy a whole army. They are invincible to swords and arrows. They move like the wind. Their blows smash walls like paper. You have no idea what forces obey her."

"I do" Ainz just sighed. "In fact, we defeated some of them a few hours ago."

The man only blinked at this, after which, he said calmly "What?"

"Those you listed," Ainz sighed. John clearly described the Witch's Servants, even if some of them were new, "After your rescue, the Witch caught us in a trap and we fought her... We were able to kill three of them."

After that, silence reigned for a half a minute in the tent, none of those present dared to break it, until John could no longer control himself.

"You're lying!" he declared instantly. "These monsters cannot be defeated."

"The ashes from the battle have not yet cooled down," Ainz said calmly, "I can take you there and let you see for yourself what happened."

John did not find a suitable answer to this, and fell silent for a second, sensing success, Ainz hastened to use this silence.

"As I said," Ainz tried to smile with a fake-salesman-smile, but under the current conditions, his expression turned out to be more like a patronizing smirk. "We were called on to battle the Witch. It would be strange if we were weaker than her henchmen."

John was forced to shut up, after which, Ainz, feeling confident, tried to further his success "You are a cunning man. You have already met with those who can fight her henchmen, haven't you?"

At these words, the man jerked his head and instantly stared at Ainz, forcing him to blur in another fake smile that looked like a confident smirk for John. After thinking a little, Ainz decided to explain what was said.

"Saint on a dragon," Ainz nodded. The dragon was the Noble Phantasm of the Servant "She would not need to call the dragon in a normal encounter with ordinary people. The dragon is her trump card and main strength. As you said, a clash with ordinary people would be a foregone conclusion, so why did she need to use this force in a simple battle?"

At this, John was silent for a second, after which he shook his head.

"The devil's mind, yes," he sighed once more, after which, he looked at the magician, "Good. Say I believe that you are able to fight Jeanne's...the Witch's minions, and defeat them. So what? Why do you need an army? The army is not able to fight them, it will not help you in the battle against the forces of the Witch."

"Not really," Ainz shook his head. "They won't be able to fight the trusted lieutenants of the Witch... But they are capable of fighting her army."

John frowned at what was said, after which, Ainz used his last trump card in these negotiations, "If you didn't want to fight, you wouldn't have gathered your army at all. You said that your friend may be dead, but you didn't mention the possibility of the army disbanding or the soldiers deserting. You know that they still retain the desire to fight, the desire to resist the Witch."

John only hung his head, after which, he sighed and looked straight at Ainz again.

"Yes," John accepted the defeat with honor, "From all sides... You outmaneuvered me on all sides. We really still want to fight. We really still have an army. We still want to win."

Ainz nodded at these words.

"We stopped believing in winning after Charite, and yet, we can't abandon our hope," John grinned, "Call me crazy or a fanatic, but once I fought for France ... And still I want to fight for it."

After these words, the man pushed the chair away from the table and rose to his feet.

"We stopped believing in victory. We realized that we don't have enough strength to fight the Witch," after these words the man looked at Jeanne, who continued to look at him, and for the first time in the whole conversation something like warmth and kindness flashed in his eyes, before turning back to Ainz "But if our Saint is with us again... If your diabolical mind guides us, then I am ready to risk everything that I have left."

After these words, the man held out his hand to Ainz, who accepted it.

John finally found hope again awakening in his heart. Hope for another miracle.

Ainz was not this miracle.

As he said before, he needed to find an opportunity to test the abilities of the Witch's Servants and distract her army in order to get into her lair.

He found suitable decoys.

Ainz shook hands with John and smiled to him with the fake smile of an old businessman.


All the Servants currently hovering in the air felt a little insecure at the height of their flight, being supported only by Ainz's magic, especially John, who tried not to distance himself from Ainz by more than a meter… All of them, except Marie Antoinette.

"Ahaha!" bursting out laughing, the girl tumbled through the air, after which, like a swimmer diving into the water, she threw herself down, reducing the distance to the ground at a record pace, after which, after falling a hundred meters in almost free fall, she soared upwards, "Ahaha!"

"Will she be all right?" Mozart inquired, continuing to calmly move through the clouds next to Ainz, to which Ainz shook his head.

"As long as she stays within..." Ainz sighed and tried to hide his uncertainty "Three hundred meters?"

In fact, such a spell acted on people within the same location as the caster himself, so that Ainz couldn't speak confidently that everything would be fine with Marie Antoinette, not knowing which area around was still considered "the same location". In Yggdrasil, there were locations of tens of kilometers wide, and secret rooms several meters in size, so Ainz tried to use the safest option.

'However, if she fall and dies…' the mage sighed 'I will be forced to revive her and apologize…'

After that, the mage looked at the ground below and sighed 'I hope she does not crash to death... I do not have many high-level resurrection items to allow myself to spend them on such accidents.'

Not that Ainz believed that there was an amount of items that was considered sufficient to allow wasting them on such things.

After these thoughts, Ainz looked at John , who was trying to stay close, "You see the traces of the army?"

Overcoming his fear, the commander glanced at the distant land, a few kilometers away, and sighed. "Not yet, but it was in this direction that Gilles planned to move after Charite."

"Good," the mage sighed and headed forward.

Ainz had been using the spell for several hours, which, coupled with the decent speed of their movement, meant that they had already crossed several hundred kilometers. During this time, they came across several destroyed villages, several traces of small battles, as well as a couple of groups of monsters roaming around, which Ainz simply destroyed with a few offhand spells, without stopping or descending in the slightest.

Of course, the mage could move at a much more impressive speed, surpassing even the most modern fighters of his era, but in this case, John most likely would not be able to see any signs of the retreating army.

"To the end of the universe!" with another scream full of childish delight, Marie Antoinette flashed beside him, trying to maintain a Superman pose, after which, he turned around, and started flying in circles around the other Servants.

"Marie, please don't get too far away," Mozart called out to the voice of reason inside the girl, but she only stuck out her tongue and flew forward.

"At least someone is having fun in the current conditions," Amadeus sighed and looked at Ainz, who only shrugged.

Frankly, he was never particularly good at dealing with children, so he was not sure that he should have answered that.

'Children are the most wonderful things we have in life,' he recalled the words of his friend, 'And they are worth trying to live for them.'

In the end, Yamaiko left the game after she became pregnant. Of course, Ainz was a little upset that she left, but he was still happy for her and her happy family.

'Interesting' looking once again at Rider, who went for the next maneuver, Ainz thought for a moment, 'If I had children... What kind of a parent I would be to them?'

Ainz tried to imagine himself as a father, holding a small child, but the image did not want to form in his head. He could not imagine his wife, nor how their child would look, nor even how he would act under the circumstances...

'Under the current conditions,' Ainz sighed, and then unexpectedly reached out to Serenity, who was caught off guard by such an action, and patted her hair, 'Serenity is the closest I have to a child.'

After what happened, Serenity giggled a little, like a schoolgirl, but if she had heard Ainz's thoughts at that moment, she would not have been this happy.

"I can see it!" John broke the thoughts of the mage, attracting his attention, "Several sources of smoke, likely from a camp."

The necromancer nodded at this, after which, he increased his speed somewhat, so that after ten minutes the Servants could see from a bird's eye view a large tent camp. Judging by the tents that were spread out in all directions, there was significantly more than a thousand people in the camp, and judging by the exposed sentries, who had their weapons ready, and the hastily constructed picket fence, these people were not ordinary refugees.

For a second, Ainz suddenly felt something unusual, but John again attracted his attention.

"That is Gilles," the commander pointed to a waving blue flag with three lilies "The Flag of the French Royal Family."

"Oh, the Fleur de Lys are still cute in this era!" Marie Antoinette appeared as a ghost behind the conversation and, using her newfound powers, leaned on John's shoulders.

"Marie, please," Mozart tried to appeal to her commonsense "You are behaving inappropriately."

"But we are not at the royal court!" the girl only smiled, after which, at the moment when Amadeus looked at her, she showed him her tongue and instantly disappeared behind him, taking advantage of the flight.

"Why do I still do all of this?" Caster shook his head and looked at John.

Ainz, having reached the nearest possible point to the camp that he could without getting spotted, began to descend to the ground. Of course, he could go down in the very center of the camp - or even use teleportation to get inside unnoticed, but there was a high probability that such actions would be considered as an act of aggression.

After landing, Ainz ordered the Servants to wait for his return, after which, he he turned to Jeanne "Jeanne, I apologize, but..."

"It's okay," the girl tried to smile, but Ainz could still understand that she was uncomfortable from the constant reminder of how the people of France perceived her, "I understand everything."

Ainz also gave Mozart a meaningful look, and he understood him without words, nodding in response. One could only hope that he could keep Marie Antoinette from rash acts.

"Good, then," Ainz looked at John . "Come on."

John just nodded at that.


Ainz emerged from the forest with John less than an hour later, after which, he was almost immediately called out.

"Hey there!" came the voice of one of the guards from the hastily knocked together watchtower, "Halt! Who are you?!"

Ainz took a step back, letting John to speak.

"John II of Alencon!" John took a step forward.

"What?" for a second, the man on the tower blinked, "The Duke of Alanson was captured by the Witch!"

"And I escaped from captivity!" John took another step forward, "I need to meet with Gilles!"

For a second, the guard at the sentry tower was silent, but when Ainz thought that he was going to climb down or let them enter, he showed a certain discipline and instead shouted to the camp, continuing to monitor the two unknown men who appeared from the forest.

After a couple of seconds, several armed people appeared, probably some kind of patrol. Each of them was an ordinary person, but they were all well-armed and covered in chain mail, so the group that appeared looked impressive enough for ordinary people. However, when they approached the two arrivals, surprise appeared on their stern tired faces at the sight of living John.

"Your Grace!" the leader of the group instantly kneeled, followed by the others.

"Ah, Sir Lancel," John smiled. "Glad to see you in good health."

"Your Grace, but how?" Sir Lancel raised his head in surprise, "The Witch…"

"I escaped from her captivity," John sighed, then nodded toward Ainz, "With the help of my friend."

After that, Ainz finally received an attentive look from the people that were trying to determine who he really was.

For them, the only thing that was strange about him was his strange clothing, which was clothing brought from Chaldea, but no one dared to ask anything, trusting the judgment of the Duke, and as such, after rising from their knees, the guards instantly surrounded the Duke and Ainz, as if guarding them, and then went forward. Apparently, this was familiar to John, but Ainz, who found himself in a kind of convoy, felt uncomfortable, as if being escorted as a prisoner, despite that, he moved after John.

It took them a while to cross the camp, so the mage had the opportunity to look around and see how the base of the remnants of the French army looked.

The sight around... It was not gloomy, but it was not at all impressive. Looking around, Ainz saw a lot of people doing their own thing. One was telling stories next to a small fire, One was sharpening his blade alone, One just rested, leaning back and exposing his face to the daylight. Among the tents, children periodically scurried from tent to tent, delivering food, and many wounded people with their hands and feet bandaged walked around slowly. Somewhere nearby, Ainz saw a flashing horseman rushing off somewhere.

The camp lived a normal camp life. Of course, on one hand it was normal, but Ainz expected to see something more... Impressive?

People walking around looked tired, gloomy, even darkly decisive. There were no fabulous songs, smiles, bravados or hardly restrained courage. The people around didn't look like an army, or maybe they prefered to forget that they are an army, because of that, sometimes the laughter or stories told by the fire seemed unnatural, as if inappropriate, like a makeup or a mask put on a corpse trying to hide the cadaveric spots that began to appear.

In the end, Ainz traveled with the escort to the central, largest tent, next to which, the strange feeling that he had felt earlier only intensified, and after Lancel the soldiers escorting them saluted John, he and Ainz were left at the tent's doorstep.

John, looking at Ainz, nodded to him and took a step forward, entering first. Ainz followed a second later.

The only person in the tent was a man. He was tall and a bit thin, because of which, he did not seem threatening at all, despite the gaze of his large eyes and his armor, which completely covered his body. Somehow, his short-cut black hair only added thinness to him, making him a little taller visually. The knight's blade stood in a sheath not far from him, but Ainz understood that he would not need much time to get it if necessary.

The first person this man saw was John, but he, before standing up to his friend, looked at Ainz.

'Ah, so this is it…' - the mage instantly realized what was this strange sensation that refused to leave him all this time.

The man put aside an unfinished letter, which he was writing until now, and rose from the table, rising to all his considerable height. John moved to meet him, and the man approached John as well, going around the table. A second later, two old friends hugged each other.

"John, you mother..." muttered Gilles, "I thought I would never meet you again."

"Believe me, I am surprised no less than you are," John said in reply, after which he squeezed him even more tightly in his arms.

After a couple seconds, the men took a step back, after which, they looked at each other.

"But how, John?" was the only surprised question from Gilles.

"With the help of my friend," John nodded toward the mage.

"Ainz," the aforementioned mage took a step forward and held out his hand to the knight. At the time of the handshake, Ainz found it necessary to clarify "With the help of me... And my Servants."

John did not hear anything special in what was said, but Gilles instantly looked at Ainz with a careful look, catching the subtext hidden from ordinary people.

"John," Gilles smiled at his old friend, "You should probably see a doctor."

John felt completely healthy and Ainz himself could vouch for the quality of his treatment, but the commander instantly caught the message.

"Of course," he nodded and left the tent.

Gilles returned to his seat and set aside the unfinished letter.

"Sit down," he pointed to the chair opposite to him. A second later, when the mage was comfortably sitting opposite to the knight, he looked at him carefully, "And how did you end up here?"

Ainz just sighed at this, getting ready for a partially true story


Jeanne felt uncomfortable at the moment when her foot stepped on the threshold of the tent. Gilles, her old friend, her closest associate... She had not seen him for so long ...

During this time, her enemy performed so much evil... How will Gilles react to her?

Gilles was for her... Like an older brother. Of course, love was present in this, but not romantic, but a platonic one, family-like, so she was afraid. She was afraid that she would see in his eyes the same distrust as in John's eyes. She was afraid that he would consider her guilty of the things committed by the Witch.

At the moment when Jeanne was inside the tent, her gaze was instantly fixed on the silent knight, who was sitting opposite to Ainz. All the same tall and thin, he looked the same as the last time that Jeanne saw him.

Gilles, after seeing the girl, said nothing. Instead, he rose from his seat, resolutely went to her. The girl rose from the fear inwardly, when the knight towering over her came up to her, and she covered her eyes out of terror.

After a second, she felt him squeeze her in a tight embrace.

In surprise, the girl opened her eyes, only to see the knight sit down on one knee and continued to hug her, covering his eyes.

"Jeanne," he muttered, squeezing her even more, "Jeanne... Jeanne..."

Uncertainly, Jeanne hugged him back, still waiting for the hit, but he only hugged the girl even more, almost crushing her in his arms.

"Jeanne ... Jeanne!" He muttered again. "I knew. I knew it was not true! I knew it was all a lie. That you're not capable of that. That you will come back. I knew, I believed! I believed like you!"

After that, Jeanne finally took the hug of the man and answered him with the same, squeezing him with all her might.

"Jeanne ... Oh Lord, Jeanne!" Jeanne felt a lonely tear fall on her shoulder, "I prayed, I believed, Jeanne! I knew Jeanne, I believed…"

Gilles did not betray her.

Jeanne smiled at this thought.

Gilles did not betray her. Gilles did not doubt her. Gilles believed in her and continued to fight for France.

Without restraints, the girl hugged her friend and, not hiding her emotions, burst into tears.

The last thing she saw was how tactfully Ainz left the tent, leaving the two Servants alone.


Emotional Suppression: EX (A +++) (Case)

In Yggdrasil, all undead are invulnerable to any manipulation of the mind or emotions. Skeletons, vampires, zombies, ghosts,...etc, they are all protected from such influences, to the displeasure of the illusionists and succubi, as well as all players who have chosen a similar class or race. However, along with defense, the limits of emotional suppression are different for different undead. While vampires do not have passive suppression of emotions at all, most undead races have a certain amount of feelings that they can experience, for example, ghosts are limited in positive emotions, but they're free in the accumulation of anger, hatred, bitterness and resentment for the living, that, according to the lore, led them to a gradual frenzy with years lived. The undead, to which this restriction extended the most, were skeletons.

Although overlords are not skeleton, they are a distant, lofty branch of skeletons' evolution that went through all stages of formation from brainless bones to the greatest mages of the dead. A skeleton is barely capable of experiencing emotions. However, stepping on the path to becoming a Lich, an undead will additionally lose some of its emotions, sacrificing them for better magical abilities, after which, having retained only the remains of its former personality, it abandons it completely, reaching the highest level of magic among undead, which makes the remaining personality inside it barely capable of any kind of emotional reaction, and it becomes guided only by a cold mind and logic. The only thing that is still capable of evoking any semblance of a feeling in such creatures is their memories, acquired before becoming overlords, in those days when they were still capable of any feelings.

Ainz is unique in the sense that he is able to independently control the manifestations of this skill, however, if activated, the formation of any emotions associated with surrounding events is almost unthinkable.

But it's still possible, as possible as a situation in which atoms floating in the air will randomly be able to collect in a packed pizza box from an accidental collision. In other words, the possibility of this is infinitely small.

But a touch from the Root gives birth to miracles.
 
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Chapter 19: Respite
Chapter 19: Respite

"So..." - Ainz leaned forward, arms crossed in front of him - a gesture he learned from his boss in his past life, "How many soldiers do you have?"

Gilles just poured a little wine for himself, and then, for the sake of decency, he offered some to those present, but they refused. Only Marie Antoinette reached out for a glass, but Mozart grabbed her hand, looking a her with a frown on his face, which only earned him a mischievous grin from her, as she stuck out her tongue. Gilles did not pay attention to that exchange, and sipped a little from the glass, after which, noticing that Jeanne was looking a little disapprovingly at the alcohol, he coughed in embarrassment and set the glass aside.

"Twenty thousand," he finally said, and sighed.

"Twenty thousand?" Ainz frowned a little and looked at John. He claimed that he had fought the battle with the Witch while commanding half the army of France, close to seventy thousand. Even that number was embellished, Gilles had to have at least twice the number he just mentioned.

However, John only sighed and joined the conversation "Is the situation really this bad?"

Gilles only nodded grimly.

"Battles with armies are one thing," the knight winced. "But fighting endless hordes of monsters, day after day, retreating, waging a hopeless war, is completely different. Some of us died, but most simply escaped. Our moral is shattered, the realization of hopelessness... Some were even seduced by the Witch's proposals... I do not know what happened to them now."

After these words, an uncomfortable pause hung in the tent.

"It is clear," Ainz sighed "Everything is clear."

Were these words really clear for Ainz? Of course not.

However, the simple idea that they had twenty thousand soldiers instead of sixty thousand was still bad enough to give him some understanding of his current situation.

Gilles, uttering the bitter truth, leaned back in his chair, after which, he thought for a moment and looked at Jeanne, who had been sitting next to him all this time.

"If our Saint returned to us at this time, it could return the moral to the soldiers". It was almost physically painful for Gilles to say the rest of this sentence, but he had to "But... in the current conditions, after the Witch did so many terrible things…"

The commander tried by all means possible to avoid insulting Jeanne, but she nevertheless sighed a little, understanding the unspoken fact.

For a second, silence returned to the tent before John spoke again "Actually... I have an idea."

After that, when the eyes of all those present were fixed on him, the duke turned his eyes to Ainz. Ainz only blinked back, after which, John, deciding that the mage gave him the greenlight to speak, began.

"Ainz told me this idea," Ainz froze for a second. 'I did?! What could I have told him?!'

"So it turns out that the Witch will not let us, nor this army, be. She will return again, stronger and much angrier than before, with even more monsters. She will not back down so easily. So why don't we use this to our advantage?"

All of those present looked at each other, after which, Mozart, realizing what John was leading to, looked at Ainz and nodded, "Is that so?... In that case, it might work."

'What might work?' Ainz felt completely out of the conversation.

Fortunately, John continued to speak.

"In any case, the Witch will return with a new army," John leaned to the table, "And we will have to defend ourselves and this army... Then why not use this as a justification for the return of the Saint?"

Jeanne, finally realizing what her associate was talking about, squirmed a little in her chair.

"Ah, that's what it is," Gilles nodded to himself too, after which, he thoughtfully nodded, and said "Yes, that might work."

"We do heroic deeds with a devilish plan!" Marie Antoinette clapped her hands and smiled, "I like it!"

'What are you all talking about?!' Ainz just froze, an imaginary drop of sweat crawled down on his forehead 'If I ask them now what they are talking about, wouldn't I look like an idiot?! I would! especially in Jeanne's eyes... I will look completely incompetent and incapable of keeping up with the conversation!...Wait, what if they ask me something about the plan?!'

If someone had asked Ainz a question now, he would have been completely unprepared for it, so he needed to urgently change the topic of the conversation!

Ainz tried to come up with something that would allow him to show that he was still able to participate in the conversation, but as if his luck ran out, nothing came to his mind. As a result, without inventing anything, he decided that even a random statement would be better than mere silence.

"The Witch can feel Jeanne" said Ainz in the end, drawing the attention of the people present, "And she will definitely try to attack her again."

For a second, those present were silent.

'I said something wrong?!' Ainz froze for a second 'Now they will think of me as an idiot!'

"Fantastic!" John suddenly rejoiced "So it will be even better."

'Ha?' the mage blinked a couple times as he noticed how everyone present nodded to themselves, confirming John's words 'Did I say something right?'

"When the forces of the Witch attack, the appearance of the Saint in the midst of the battle in order to save France again and lead her troops into battle will become much more believable. When they see the True Miracle, none of the soldiers will doubt that this is Jeanne, the real Jeanne. In this case, it will be possible to convince people that they are fighting against the evil Witch, who has assumed the form of their Saint, no, it would be easy," Gilles talked a little bit to himself, after which he looked at John, "Fine plan, John!"

"This is not my plan," John just looked at Ainz, and the eyes of all those present shifted to Ainz, who was sitting nearby, "I just took Ainz's plan, which he told me a little earlier and changed it a little, so all credit goes to him."

"In that case," Gilles instantly turned his eyes back to the necromancer, "My thanks to you."

'I never offered anything like that!' Ainz instantly froze again, after which he thought "Or did I?.."

No, of course, a while back, he did in fact mention something taught to him once by Punnito Moe, but it was about gaining trust of people, not entire armies at all ...

"In that case, we know how we can return the fighting spirit to the soldiers, and how to make Jeanne fight openly again" Gilles turned his eyes to John, and then back to Ainz "In that case ... What will you do now?"

Ainz paused for a second, feeling the panic rise inside him before it was strangled by his Emotional Suppression, leaving him only a cold mind.

Initially, he went to this Singularity in order to meet as many Servants as possible, which he could add to his collection. The presence of Mozart, Marie Antoinette and Gilles proved to him that the appearance of the Servants in this Singularity was not an a one-time miracle, as with Jeanne, so it could be done again now.

"We need to find allies," Ainz tried to cover up this thought with an excuse, "We need to go find allies who can match the powers of the Witch's champions."

"Do you think this is possible?" John looked at the mage with interest, while Gilles himself only nodded.

"Quite possible," Ainz sighed, then blinked.

'The sooner I can escape from this singularity, the better,' Ainz sighed. He did not want to look like a coward, but he was already in a somewhat unpleasant situation with a reassessment of his abilities, and he clearly did not want to reveal it or to repeat it.

"Good," Gilles finally nodded, after which he looked at Ainz a little more carefully, "In that case... What about your Servants?"

John, without knowing about some features of the existence of the world around, ignored the subtext left by Gilles, but Ainz understood him.

'What does he want from me?' the guy felt a panic rising from the depths of his mind, but did not let that one appear on his face.

"I'll leave a few..." the mage began carefully, trying to determine Gilles reaction, after which, making sure that he apparently expected this, he perked up, "Those who can help in case the Witch's Servants attack."

"Good," Gilles nodded to himself, after which he turned in the direction of Mozart and Marie Antoinette, whom he correctly identified as a third party in the negotiations, "And you..."

Amadeus opened his mouth to answer, but was instantly shut up by his queen, "I am not very good with all these cunning plans, but I am good with meeting new people, so I will gladly go with Ainz!"

Mozart, who clearly wanted to say something before, looked at the girl, after which, he shrugged at Ainz and Gilles, and leaned back in his chair, as if he were not at all concerned about it.

"Well, in that case, I suppose we have finished discussing the plans," Gilles sighed, "When will you leave?"

Ainz was ready to leave even at that moment, not needing either sleep, food, or rest, being undead, but thinking for a second, he said, "At dawn tomorrow. After the battle, we all need rest."

"Good," Gilles nodded. "I will send a few soldiers who do not ask questions, who can provide you with a short respite. Ser Lansel should suffice."

"Okay, then I'll go after the Servants," Ainz nodded, "Teleportation..."


Closing her eyes, the Witch continued to feel how the cold bandages, smeared with some odorous liquid, slowly cooled her burning wounds, which were in no hurry to heal themselves, despite her nature as a Servant.

The door creaked, after which, several steps could be heard on the granite floor of the empty room where the girl was at the moment. Only one living creature would dare to boldly approached her, especially now, so the girl did not even open her eyes in order to verify the identity of the person who entered.

"Ah, Gilles," the Witch only fidgeted, sitting comfortably on the couch, "Did something happen?"

"Nothing of the kind, Jeanne," came the man's voice with almost affectionate notes in it, "I just came to change the bandages."

"Hmm?" after this, the girl opened her eyes and looked at Gilles, standing next to her with a whole pack of smelly gauze in his hands.

Gilles was a tall man, but very thin, which made it difficult to accept him as a warrior. Of course, the armor and the blade hid his thinness, because of which, in full outfit, he might have seemed a little more impressive than he actually was, but now, being dressed in a huge black hooded robe that hung like a rag on him, he seemed even more fragile than he really was. That fragility, together with his short, slightly greasy, unkempt hair and large bulging eyes gave him the appearance of a somewhat crazy person.

The Witch was not completely undressed, almost all of her body was wrapped in huge bandages that hid all its virtues, but they tightly enough encircled all her bends and contours, so that anyone could easily determine her figure. But the girl did not feel constrained by this with Gilles, even when he looked at her body with love. Because it was not the love that a man could have for a woman, it was closer to a special kind of love that a believer has for his deity, the love with which the creator enjoys the most beautiful masterpiece in the world.

"What did you get?" Instantly the girl lost her patience, "Spill it!"

"Of course, Jeanne," the man smiled at the girl, after which, he began to unwrap the bandages. The moment the first one slipped from the Witch's hand, the disgusting smell intensified, causing the girl to grimace.

"These things stink," she leaned back, "Gilles, could you bring something more pleasant?!"

"I apologize, Jeanne, but all medicine smells bad," the man smiled. "Please endure, and when you become healthy, I will immediately stop doing all this."

"When I will be healthy!" the girl gave a loud mocking chuckle, "I am a Servant! I must be able to regenerate without all your rubbish!"

"Of course, Jeanne," the man smiled even more at that, "But that bitch inflicted some serious wounds on you with her damned weapons, so it may take some time..."

"That bitch..." Jeanne only grunted at it. The memory of the damned girl towering above her returned to her mind.

A short figure with two blades in her hands, leaning toward her face to cut her throat. Not rejoicing and not triumphant, not mocking and not in disgust, not looking forward to it and not sad... Just bored. As if doing her job. Taking another life, not the first and not the last. As if Jeanne was just another... Another minor step in someone's life. Just another victim who fell in battle. Just another casual victim... useless, miserable, unnecessary...

The fire inside the Witch blazed again because of this thought, making it's way through her body, after which, all her wounds instantly exploded in a spectacle of pain.

"Mother fucker!" the girl instantly arched in an arc of pain, clutching her hands into fists, feeling her nails bite into the flesh, piercing the skin "I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!"

Gilles should probably be panicked by this display of emotions, but instead, he only took a step back, letting the girl raise her clenched fist and hit her bed, breaking the thick oak boards with a blow.

"I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!" as if having entered into some kind of rage trance, the Witch struck blow after blow, crumbling her own bed, feeling the pain of incessant fire spreading through her body, burning her over and over again, "I HATE!"

The small sofa could not stand the last, especially strong, blow, finally cracking, its rickety legs parted to the sides, causing the girl to collapse on the floor.

The girl hit cold granite, and as if suddenly waking up, she fell silent. She did not rise or even roll onto her back, just continuing to lie on the cold granite, feeling how it's coldness mixed with the phantom pain from the fire.

"Jeanne?" finally Gilles spoke after she continued to lie motionless on the floor for several seconds, after which, without getting an answer, he took a step towards the girl, "Jeanne?!"

"Gilles," she finally said, however, it was not the voice that Gilles wanted to hear. It was a sharp, slightly broken, angry voice, behind which one could sense barely restrained emotions "Am I weak?"

"What?" Gilles instantly took another step and held out his hands to raise the girl, "No, Jeanne, of course not!"

"Then why did I lose?" the girl made no attempt to get up from her seat, allowing Gilles to lift her from the floor, "Why did I lose, Gilles? Why did I lose again?"

"Jeanne, they deceived you," the man tried to utter reassuringly, "You fought alone against three Servants ..."

"I don't need your flattery!" the girl snapped and abruptly punched the man. She did not use all her strength, but this was enough for the man to take a step back "I am weak, Gilles! I am weak!"

"No, Jeanne, of course not," the man tried to hold the girl in spite of the sudden movement and lifted her slightly, after which, for lack of a better option, he laid her back on the broken sofa, "You were poisoned. It was just a vile killer trick, no more."

"Poisoned, hmm?" the girl seemed to think about this word, allowing the mage to put her back on the sofa, after which, she covered her eyes with her hand, as if hiding them from the light, or from Gilles, after which, she silent again.

In the established silence, Gilles continued to slowly remove the bandages from the girl and replace them with new ones, and when the girl spoke again, she was completely bandaged.

"They poisoned me, haha," the girl smirked at the thought, after which, she removed her hand and looked at the mage, "If you think about it, I have never been poisoned before..."

"Jeanne," the man tried to talk to her, but she seemed to not listen to the voice.

"They tortured me," the girl smiled, "They burned me... But I was never poisoned... Tell me, how many other ways to die do I yet have to experience?"

"Jeanne," he tried to reassure the girl, but she did not even begin to listen to him, continuing to speak.

"Maybe next time they will hang me?" the girl smiled at this thought, as if she was joking with herself, "Or drown me... Oh no, maybe they decide to burn me again?"

Gilles, finally understood that the girl could not control her thoughts at this moment, and therefore was forced to hug her. However, she did not stop at all.

"Or do they chop off my head?" the girl laughed, "Oh, I heard that this is one of the most painless ways to die! One movement, a moment of pain, and you die. You don't even have time to understand what happened."

"Jeanne, Jeanne, Jeanne," the mage continued to mutter, clutching the girl, who continued to hang powerlessly in his hands.

"Or is it the opposite? they will want to enjoy it in its fullest?!" the girl fell into a fit of laughter, "I know, ahaha! First, my hands will be cut off... Then my legs ... Ahahaha! Then they will start skinning alive... Ahaha! And then, when I stop feeling pain, they will crush my head with a carriage... Like an overripe watermelon!"

After that, the girl began to laugh madly, continuing to hang in the hands of Gilles, stroking the girl's back.

At first, Jeanne's laughter was sincere, but gradually, the longer Gilles held her in his arms, the more additional tones began to appear in her laughter. It was as if sobs began to mix in her crazy laughter.

The girl continued to laugh further, until the sobs completely blocked all her laughter, after which, she clung to Gilles, who continued to hug her.

Several times, the girl sobbed, but this did not turn into crying. Instead, the girl clung to Gilles, as if drowning in the last chance of salvation, and continued to hold him like that for several minutes, saying nothing.

After a few minutes, the girl was able to loosen her grip on the man, she abruptly and roughly pushed him away from herself.

"Get away from here, you stink!" Gilles really smelled a little of the medicinal solutions that he used to treat the girl, but Jeanne still remained the main source of this smell, since she was bandaged from head to toe. However, Gilles did not say anything to her and simply took a step back and bowed to her.

"Of course, Your Holiness," he bowed to the girl, and then headed for the exit.

"I don't need your flattery," the girl just managed to throw after him, before the man disappeared behind the door. However, even with his back to ehr, Gilles could swear that the girl smiled to him a little.


Taking a step out from the room where the Witch was, left alone on the broken couch, Gilles closed the door behind him, and when he finally turned around, he came face to face with the man standing opposite to him, or maybe it was a girl.

"How's Milady's health?" came the charmingly-sweet voice of a guy in front of Gilles, forcing him to instantly go dark.

"Everything is fine," he answered shortly and went on, but Chevalier did not stay behind, and instead went after Gilles, so that he was forced to drop another sentence, "She is stubborn, she will be back on her feet in a couple of days."

"that's just wonderful," Chevalier smiled. "Perseverance is the quality that prevails in Milady, this is what I definitely managed to notice."

Gilles, discovering that the guy continued to follow on his heels, was forced to ask him a question again "What do you want?"

"I'm just interested in the health status of my Milady!" he instantly replied, almost offended by the question "What kind of knight would I be if I don't even care about the health of my Mistress?!"

"Don't play your games with me, Saber," Caster suddenly stopped and turned to face the guy following him, who almost bumped into him. Saber just smiled and waved his hands a little in front of his face.

"I apologize, commander!" he said with a guilty smiled, "As they say, old habits die hard!"

Gilles just frowned at the guy.

"The thing is, I would like to discuss the recent additions to our ranks..." Saber smiled. "Servants summoned this morning."

"Something wrong?" Gilles just looked at the guy directly.

"No, no, nothing like that," Saber immediately waved his hands again. "The guy in the high collar is pretty nice, although a little obsessed... But the second one, and not to mention our most significant add-on..."

"What's wrong with him?" - Gilles looked at Chevalier closely.

"Nothing special, it's just that," Saber sighed, "Since the moment he was called this morning, he has already stripped our army of seventeen people..."

"They will rise again as zombies" Caster dismissed the man's concerns. "So the army will not lose in combat strength."

"Of course not," Chevalier smiled, "But the point is who our new colleague killed... Three men and fourteen women. The loss of men is really not very significant, but the number of women among our troops is very small, so the loss of all the beautiful girls on our side may be somewhat... Sad."

"Sorry for this", he only nodded, allowing Saber to continue the conversation.

"The thing is that I wanted to find out," Chevalier innocently asked, "Could you, or Milady, find a more... suitable use for the our colleague's...power? And although I would not want to part with such an outstanding gentleman even before I could talk to him as a person, perhaps there is an possibility to organize a mission for our colleague... Outside, where he can't destroy all the beautiful girls fighting on our side?"

For a second, Gilles fell silent, pondering the words spoken by the guy, after which he reluctantly nodded. "I will discuss this with Jeanne."

"I wouldn't even dare to dream about anything more," the swordsman smiled and took a step back.

Gilles stopped for a second, after which, he looked at Chevalier. Although he was injured even more seriously than Jeanne, at the moment, he looked as if all his injuries had been a lie, his hand was back in place, he was not holding on to his pierced stomach, and even the small cuts on his body completely healed. All that remains is just the smiling face of a young guy with the beauty of Apollo.

"Of all the people around, only you make me sick," Gilles wrinkled, after which he looked again at Chevalier, "And believe me, if you make me sick, I will do my best to watch you closely."

"Your mistrust hurts me, commander," the guy bowed and took another step back, a little upset, "But I suppose, that is the fate of the spy. I am very sorry that you do not trust me, but if this happened, then I will do my best to not give you reason to suspect me of anything."

Gilles merely grimaced at these words.

"Get out of my sight," he gave the command, to which Chevalier only bowed and hid the next step in one of the corridors located nearby.


The next day Ainz met the dawn looking at the slowly awakening camp of French soldiers wandering around their service posts.

Somewhere in the distance, a messenger seemed to make his way from one end of the camp to the other with an important message, after which the morning silence settled down again, diluted only by the sound of soldiers yawning.

Realizing that he had no other way, Ainz reluctantly cast the spell.

"Chaldea in touch!" A moment later he heard Roman's voice, overly peppy for the morning hours.

"Roman?" Ainz was a little surprised "Where's the chief?"

"The chief is still sleeping," the man said immediately, a little nervously, as if afraid that the chief would suddenly appear behind his back, chastising him for the futility of his work and the inability to establish a connection between Chaldea and Ainz, "Did something happen?"

"Not really," Ainz sighed, surveying the camp from a bird's eye view, continuing to soar in the clouds, "I just wanted a little help."

"Oh, of course," the technician, doctor and scientist immediately smiled "What kind?"

"Is it possible to use the Chaldean scanner in order to detect Servants?" Ainz asked an interesting question, "The fact is that for the battle with the Witch we will need all possible forces."

"Witch?" Roman said with great Interest.

"A long story," Ainz dismissed. "Is this possible?"

"Theoretically, yes" the technician agreed, "But in practice it will be a little more complicated without the ability to establish a permanent connection…"

At this point, Roman was silent and Ainz vividly imagined how he looked around in search of his boss "The accuracy will be reduced too much. Of course, I can point you to some outstanding points on the radar, but without the ability to say exactly what I am pointing to. Maybe I can determine the approximate location of the Servants, but maybe I will fall on a large group of strong opponents - or even on the Servants who are not friendly."

"It's still better than trying to comb through France hoping for a random meeting." Ainz reasoned with Roman, "so I guess I will take this chance."

"Of course," the doctor agreed, after which, he left the microphone for a few seconds, returning after a couple of moments, "All of France is almost completely dotted with strong signatures!"

Ainz just nodded at this, "Good. Where are the strongest?"

"In Orleans," the technician said without delay.

"This is logical," agreed Ainz, "This is the location of the Witch's base. Where are the rest?"

For a couple of seconds, the man was distracted again, "In Lyon there are sufficiently strong signatures, as well as in Thiers. I cannot be sure that the Servants are there, but it is there that the most powerful signal sources are located."

"Good, thanks," Ainz sighed, after which, thinking about all the problems that Roman went through with his boss because of the inability to contact Ainz, he sighed, "And I apologize."

"For what?" Roman only asked in a blank voice.

"Nothing," after these words, Ainz disconnected.

After a dozen minutes, the camp was boiling again and seething with life, languid faces gave way to fresh and rested ones, voices and sounds began to be heard again, so Ainz decided to go down. Just in case, he also used invisibility and returned to the tent given by Gilles to rest the Servants.

None of the Servants were asleep. Arthuria was dressed in armor, she had apparently calmed down, but still continued to give Ainz strange looks, while Medusa and Cu Chulainn were talking quietly about something at the very end of the tent.

"Lord Mage," Hassan's voice above his ear made Ainz look at Assassin, "I suppose we are ready to depart."

"Good," Ainz sighed, after which, he looked at Marie, who, with tenacity worthy of a better application, tried to undo Jeanne's braid. Jeanne, obviously feeling somewhat uncomfortable, continued to try to get away.

"Good," the mage nodded, after which, noting that Hassan had not left him instantly, he turned to him. "Has something happened?"

"Nothing, Lord Mage," the man said calmly, after which, he was silent for a couple of seconds, "Of course, Lord Mage, I trust your judgment, I just would like to know about your decision about the Servants that you will entrust to the French army."

"Oh," Ainz instantly beamed, realizing that in this conversation he could really justify his decision, "Jeanne is an obvious decision, since she is the central figure of the whole plan. Cu Chulainn and Medusa can heal, which is especially important in the current conditions of the army, in addition, Cu Chulainn is a mage, which means that he has a wide range of utility not only in combat conditions, but also in everyday situations, while Medusa has good senses and does not rely on her vision, which means she is effective in detecting invisible opponents. Of course, Archer would be better in that case. However, since the French army does not need to be afraid of an ambush, unlike our group, I decided to choose Medusa to stay with them. In addition, together, they are capable of fighting a large group of opponents if necessary, and they're strong enough to least hold on until reinforcements arrive in the event of a full-scale attack by the Witch's Servants."

"Of course," Hassan nodded at this, as if it were something taken for granted, "But I'm not talking about them, but about Serenity..."

After this question, Ainz froze.

Why did Ainz choose to leave Serenity in the camp?

Because he was a little afraid of her. But not in the sense in which he was afraid of Arthuria or Hassan, or in the sense that he doubted her loyalty, on the opposite, he was almost sure of her loyalty. That was the problem, Serenity was too loyal, but she was also quite impulsive, and even Ainz, who did not know the secret of interpersonal relationships, could notice her desire to be with her Master for all the time available to her. In other words, the girl was too much for Ainz. Therefore, he did not leave her as a necessary element for the french army, but as an undesired element in his team.

But could he tell Hassan about this?

What would a boss who removes a specialist from the project simply because he did not like him look like for Hassan? Moreover, what if he didn't like the specialist not because he possessed some negative qualities, but rather, because he possessed excessively positive ones? After all, any Servant would appreciate Serenity's loyalty as her primary positive trait. Ainz was sure of it.

Therefore, he could not answer this question with what he really thought.

However, looking at Hassan, he was expecting his answer, Ainz felt another phantom drop of sweat rolling down his forehead.

"Oooooooh" Ainz tried to buy himself some time "This is absolutely necessary…"

"Yes?" Hassan, mocking or not, asked again, "why exactly?"

"Oh," Ainz stalled again. It was urgent for him to come up with an excuse, but absolutely nothing came to mind.

'What can I say?! What can I say?!' a moment later, his panic died out, leaving only one realization: Once, his lie and improvisation in an unknown topic worked with Arthuria, so all he had to do was rely on bluffing one more time.

"I could tell you the main reason for this," Ainz stepped on the thin ice of the bluff, "But why should I?"

Hassan, standing opposite to the mage, did not change expression, but solely because he did not have a face to do so.

"You..." he said, "Don't you trust me?"

"No, of course that's not it" Ainz immediately hastened to reassure him, "And that is why I do not want to tell you about this. I trust you and your judgment and I am absolutely sure that you yourself can easily understand why I chose to leave Serenity in the camp."

For a few seconds, everything froze, before Hassan nodded slowly "That's how…"

"Of course," Ainz blurted out in a smile. He hoped that Hassan would not take his word as a bluff.

"Hm, then..." Hassan thought for a second, "I can definitely determine the reason for this decision."

'He bought it!' The magician exulted inwardly, but the emotional suppression cut off the arising joy within him, leaving only a feeling of little satisfaction, "Of course, Hassan, I believe in your abilities."

"Good, Master," Hassan fell silent for a second, "In that case, it is possible that..."

"Oh, Marie Antoinette," Ainz instantly grabbed the girl who had finally left Jeanne alone and was now wandering around, "Tell me, can you tell me the location of Thiers?"

"Thiers?" the girl thought for a second and smiled, "Of course! I was there only once, but I can definitely get there."

"Perfect!" - Ainz said with exaggerated enthusiasm "In this case, we are going to Thiers!"


Physical Resistance - a skill that reduces physical damage taken, similar to Magic Resistance. However, despite the extreme similarity of these two skills, while Magic Resistance is a fairly common skill, Physical Resistance is not just a rare, but practically a non-existent skill that can neutralize the main weakness of many magic-oriented Servants - their low Endurance and helplessness in close combat.
 
Chapter 20: Red and White
Chapter 20: Red and White

Archer was completely calm after the teleportation to Thiers, not only because of his nature as a Servant, but also because he used to Ainz's magic and its capabilities.

"At least it's quite convenient," Archer was forced to confess to himself.

"Okay, so now the main goal is searching of the Servants, or a large cluster of enemies nearby," the necromancer had announced loudly, after that, he began issuing instructions. Archer, as expected, was chosen to be the first as the possessor of the most useful abilities in this case: long-range vision and high sensitivity to the presence of others, and therefore, after a few seconds, the Servant found himself moving away from his Master at a fairly decent speed, even for a Servant. And while it wasn't that he wanted to escape from his summoner as soon as possible, he couldn't say that he was fond of him.

Archer was watching Ainz closely for the past few weeks. Watched his actions, words, and fights. And did not find anything wrong. It was very strange.

Of course, when Ainz confessed about his necromancy - and his impressive successes in this matter - Archer was the first to suspect that Ainz was hiding something other than the sincere wish to help humanity, and he even expected Ainz to be perfect, kind, loving, all-forgiving, and all-understanding in a way that would even reassure Archer, because then Archer could pinpoint Ainz as a villain.

There are no perfect people. No one - Hero, King, Prophet and Saint is perfect. Only those who wish to be seen as ideal try to act perfect. Therefore, if Ainz turned out to be ideal, Archer would have only had his suspicions about the mage strengthened. Therefore, he hid his thoughts, watching every step Ainz made. But instead of the perfect hero who breaks all the stereotypes about necromancers to the smithereens, Ainz looked like... a humane enough necromancer?

He did not go out of his way to emphasize his heroism or distinguish his character, he did not try to stand out with traits such as a poor music choice or a love of bad jokes. No, His traits were those of a real necromancer. A sociopath and a killer, for whom everything was a resource.

Archer was not wrong in this thinking. In a sense, Ainz carried in his mind the traits that he got from Yggdrasil, a game where every NPC or monster he met was really a source of profit, materials, and valuable experience, in both senses of this the words.

During his time observing Ainz, Archer saw him inspecting the enemy with a cold mind, looking at the french soldiers as one-time disposable puppets. Archer saw what Ainz really was thinking about leaving Jeanne to her inevitable fate, because he only thought from a point of view of profit, the point of view of the person who really could rise to the heights of the art of necromancy.

And yet, Ainz did not abandon Jeanne, he really sought to deal with the problem that arose in the Singularity, and he took care of his Servants, not as a hero, nor as a Saint, but as an ordinary person experiencing ordinary human empathy.

This was the strangest.

Archer was not a true Servant, he did not ascend to the Throne of Heroes through his earthly legends and deeds, but made a pact with the world itself. However, he possessed all the knowledge bestowed by the Throne of Heroes. He knew about the Heroes themselves, he knew about their incarnations as Servants, and he understood that the Servants were the least humane of all existing creatures in the whole world, second only to creatures from outside the world. And, paradoxically, they were not human precisely because they were idolized reflections of humans.

There are no perfect people, and there are no absolutely bad people. No one is born evil or good, and even growing up, no one is able to define each of their traits as solely evil or good. A maniac's love of coffee is not an evil trait in itself, and an obsession with cleanliness is not a good trait for a good old woman. These are just character traits that define a human being.

But Servants are not human. Among the Servants, one could exist who is absolutely good, or absolutely evil, such Servants, who have only good or bad traits embodied in them, are evil or good simply by nature.

Not all Servants are like that, but, for example, a Servant called as a reflection of the legend of the "ideal king" remains the ideal king despite all his actions as a Servant. Even if he experiences human emotions, or shows traits beyond the simple description of "a Servant created from a legend", he still remains a Servant created by his legend. And Ainz was not like that.

Archer could not describe Ainz in a simple sentence. A necromancer who rose to the salvation of the world because he still retained human features, sometimes not ready for unexpected events, but still trying to help his servants because he sees them as people, but still ready to sacrifice them when needed? This was too long of a description for a Servant.

So who Ainz really was?

Archer's first guess was that he was not a Servant, but a true Heroic Spirit. While a Servant is one of the aspects of the personality of a Heroic Spirit, Ainz could be something complete. Not just a certain facet of someone's personality, but a real person. Not a Servant, but a Hero.

Probably, if Archer was a simple Servant, he would have stopped at this reflection. But Archer was not a real Servant. He was the one who came to the Throne of Heroes through a pact with the world.

Concluding a pact with the world, Archer agreed to serve in exchange for strength, to be one of the forms of the Counter-Force, even if it is one of its smallest forms. He received power in exchange for guarding this world, the lousy job to kill those who can no longer be saved for the sake of those who can still survive. And therefore, there was something in him that was inaccessible to ordinary Servants. Archer had an ability that he inherited from this type of job, which remained with him even when called as a Servant.

He could sense distortions that required the intervention of the Counter Force.

And Ainz was like that.

But, paradoxically, Archer could not determine why.

Ainz behaved as he was supposed to. Slowly making contacts, fighting, talking, smiling or arguing, he was nothing like the distortion that he was supposed to be.

This was Ainz's most unnatural feature that Archer could see in him. if Ainz was an unknowable horror from beyond the borders of the universe, there would be more logic and reason than his current behavior shows.

To some extent, this terrified Archer. It was terrifying because he possessed the mind of a veteran, a mercenary, a Counter Guardian, a warrior, a survivor, a broken hero. He collected information, made plans, improvised on the go. He hoped that he understood something about the world around him.

He understood absolutely nothing, not a single thing about Ainz.

He is a man with his problems, principles and goals? Why, then, does he distort reality? Or is he an incomprehensible evil? Then why is he so humane?

And, as if deliberately twisting Archer's paranoia, Ainz made sure that no one could collect information about him in any way. He was surrounded by the most monstrous spells and defenses that one could imagine, unbreakable walls and deadly traps. But there was nothing behind them. Deaf emptiness. Vacuum. An absolutely empty abyss...and nothing more.

The servants around Ainz could believe what they wanted, but Archer understood that a creature like Ainz was something... well..he could not even determine what he was.

Archer's gaze was suddenly drawn by the figure of two girls moving along the road. Both were extremely short, perhaps even shorter than Marie Antoinette or Serenity. From a distance, it was not possible to make out their concrete outlines, they were tens of kilometers away, but looking at them, Archer realized that they were the target that Ainz wanted to find in this place.

Reluctantly, Archer reached for a connection with Ainz. Even if he was an unknowable horror, he was still his Master. And Archer will do everything possible to follow him to the very end.


Hearing from Archer about finding two new Servants, Ainz was delighted, both by the very fact of their finding, and the fact that their finding did not take too much time. No, it couldhave been even more accurate to say that Ainz found them too quickly, he prepared at least for a few hours, but the mage believed that in this case, he needed to pay tribute to Archer's abilities and, a little bit, to his own decision to not leave him in the camp.

"Thank you, Archer," he answered his Servant, and then instantly used teleportation. The abrupt appearance of the mage near him made Archer take a step back and look at the mage with a wary look for a second, but the necromancer himself did not pay attention to it and only took a step closer.

'No, from such a distance…' - Ainz shook his head. Of course, he saw somewhere in the distance the blurry silhouettes of slowly wandering travelers, but without any class levels of an archer or a stalker - all that Ainz himself could make out was the fact of two people in the distance - 'From such a distance I can't even distinguish them as a Servants.'

Ainz could only sense Gilles' presence as Servants from a distance of a little less than a kilometer, so there was no mystery that he couldn't determine who was walking — so Ainz became even more envious of Archer's abilities.

'This is definitely extremely useful,' he nodded to himself, after which he glanced at the gray-haired guy standing next to him. He just glanced back and returned to observing the targets.

'Still, the Servants are amazing,' Ainz admitted to himself. It would not be surprising if he found among them someone stronger than himself... No, most likely many Servants should have been much stronger than him. In addition to their abilities, they were not only warriors - but also real veterans, masters of the battle, with whom Ainz himself could hardly ever compare - nevertheless, he remained an ordinary person.

The memory of the battle with Dracula came to mind. Of course, Lancer was strong... In a way. That is, Ainz would not want to meet with him, definitely if he had just started the game. Dracula was a worthy adversary for the mage of about... Fortieth level? Maybe forty-fifth. However, the mage of the fortieth level, of course, would have a few trump cards in his sleeve, which Dracula never showed - only a few abilities - but maybe Ainz simply did not see them? Perhaps the reason was that Dracula was incorrectly called up by the Witch - or did he simply consider Ainz as a non-dangerous opponent to the very end - or maybe he did not want to fight in full force? It was difficult to clearly predict why Dracula turned out to be so... Ainz did not want to use the word "weak" because he understood that the Servants were one of the strongest creatures in the universe and he probably just did not have time to demonstrate his strength - however, in any case, even if Dracula lost the battle, it only meant that Dracula was not the strongest of the Servants... No, most likely due to the fact that Dracula was a fictional character, he was simply at the very bottom of the levels of strength of the Servants - and other Servants were many times stronger and more dangerous than him.

Immediately the recollections of Tabula telling Ainz that Dracula was actually based on the story of some real person came to his mind, but the mage waved it off - it is unlikely that this had to do anything with his current thoughts.

Whatever it was, while thinking, Ainz did not notice how the travelers gradually reduced the distance - and after some time the mage could already make out that the moving ones were very short, like children - and were dressed in rather colorful clothes, which said in favor of the fact that they were Servants - and the question arose in the head of the mage. What should he do next?

Acquaintance with Jeanne happened for him... In a somewhat strange and unique way. Mozart and Marie Antoinette intervened in the battle that had already taken place, due to which the establishment of contact seemed to happen by itself. The meeting with John took place after his salvation - and also in somewhat unusual conditions - and his acquaintance with Gilles happened after John introduced him. In other words - Ainz has not yet met anyone just like that, by chance, on the street - and did not try to get to know them.

"What to do?" Ainz thought for a moment. If he ended up in his old world, then a man who suddenly met him on the street would have seemed extremely suspicious to him - although if this man, in order to appear less suspicious, suggested he go to his office - Ainz would panicked only more.

"Maybe send someone from the Servants?" - Ainz paused for a second. In his world, bosses very often dumped such work as a meeting of potential workers on the shoulders of their deputies, so Ainz could have suggested that it was still possible. However, at the same time...

Ainz glanced furtively at Archer as he continued to watch the two Servants. No, definitely not, he is not able to do this with such pressure! What if his Servants consider him an incompetent boss because of his actions, decide that he is dumping all the work on his subordinates - or even worse, what if they find out that Ainz feels uncomfortable while meeting new people?! No, Ainz definitely couldn't allow this!

Therefore, with an inward sigh, the mage smiled and took a step forward, slowly moving towards the two wandering Servants.

Approaching the people moving towards him took him a lot of time - during this time, the mage was able to imagine several possible dialogues that he could have with them - but none of these options was ideal. Ainz could find himself dozens of answers to any of the said phrases that would destroy his entire line - that is why, gradually, as he approached the Servants, the necromancer became more and more nervous.

'Good afternoon, girls…' - he said the phrase in his mind, trying to sound confident at least in his thoughts - 'Of course, you don't know me…'

'No, this is a bad option!' - Ainz felt panicked, after which the suppression of emotions calmed him again - 'Perhaps you will not believe me, but…'

'Another bad option!' - suppression of emotions prevailed over Ainz again - 'The fact is that I know you are Servants…'

Ainz also rejected this option as he did with the next one - and another one - and, before his mind could suggest the option that the mage could hold in his head longer than one phrase, Ainz discovered that he was with two Servants in plain sight.

The first thing that struck the mage's eye when he emerged from his thoughts was growth. Both girls - and the Servants were just girls - turned out to be extremely short, almost children. Maybe they were not from elementary school, but everything that Ainz could give them is fourteen years old - or sixteen, if you take into account that Ainz was always not very good at determining the age of people.

The first girl, moving ahead, was dressed somewhat frivolously for Ainz's ideas about schoolgirls. Ainz could not call her clothes anything besides a miniskirt of dark red color; moreover, this skirt did not fit her legs, but, on the contrary, held its shape from all sides like a dress, so Ainz felt like he would see something he was not supposed to see with her every next movement. Considering, however, that the girl was not dressed in a full-fledged top, but rather in leather dressings, rather emphasizing the most interesting places of her body than hiding anything, it was especially uncomfortable for Ainz to look at the girl. Fortunately for him, a detail was found in the girl's appearance that caused the magician to be distracted.

A tail.

And it was not a small tail with a tassel - but a black, rather massive, scaled tail of a reptile, furthermore, bifurcating, and therefore in a strange way similar to a snake tongue. However, this was not the only interesting feature of the girl's appearance.

Quite long crimson hair converged on her back, just below the shoulder blades, framing a childish face, barely touched by puberty, with large turquoise eyes, allowing Ainz to see the horns. And these were not the little cute little horns of the imp — no, they were massive black demonic ones — or perhaps dragon horns, rising from the sides of her head up, adding twenty more centimeters to her growth.

The girl moving next to her did look much more decent, she was dressed in a turquoise yukata with huge sleeves, additionally hiding half of her body and not showing her figure at all, with the exception of thin hands, in one of which she held black and gold fan, richly decorated with an ornament, with the help of which at the moment she covered her face. However, Ainz could see her long silver-gray hair, descending to the middle of her thigh, and the golden eyes in which the smile splashed. As the horns.

The girl, moving a little behind, also had horns - but unlike the horns of the one ahead, these horns were white and very small, neatly located on the sides of her head, so that with a quick glance they could even be mistaken for some strange decoration.

Gradually, drawing closer to the two, Ainz was able to hear their dialogue.

"...one more word and I swear by everything I have, I will kill you!" - Red one, as Ainz noted for herself, was clearly unhappy with something and absolutely did not bother to control the volume of her voice.

The White one spoke much quieter, so Ainz could not hear the response line - but he was quite able to see the reaction to it.

"SHUT UP!" - Red one unexpectedly turned around and took a step towards the White one.

"Or what?" - the White one just grinned, removing the fan for a second to show her smile, and then opened it again, hiding her face.

"ARGH!" - shouted powerlessly into the void with her head up the Red one and then rushed forward with a quick step towards the already approaching Ainz.

"Good afternoon, girls..." the magician began the prepared phrase, however, the Red one, not even listening to his words, simply crashed into the mage.

"GET AWAY!" - she snarled, then shoved the necromancer to the side. If Ainz was a human, then at the best he would have gained a several broken ribs and a couple of meters of short flight to the ground after such a collision, but he only swayed, taking a step to the side.

"Can't you stand the truth?" - moving after the girl, the White one said it calmly, just passing by Ainz, without even giving him a look.

Ainz, while finding such an action at least uncivilized, followed the Servants.

"I apologize, but..." the magician said this calmly, still forcing the two to pay attention to him.

"STAND AWAY, DIRTY PEASANT!" - the Red one, stopping in place, instantly went to Ainz, annoyed by what had happened even more.

"Oh, this is not a very convenient turn..." - the magician stopped for a second, thinking about what action he should take.

The Red one, who was next to the mage, however, did not hear his thoughts and already raised a fist to strike, but was stopped.

"Stand down, crazy," - the White one rolled up her fan for a second, after which she looked at Ainz a little more carefully.

"Shut up!" - the Red one reacted very painfully to this, but the White one ignored such a remark, only once again looking at the magician. He smiled, being glad at least of such events, and bowed a little.

"As I say, good afternoon, girls," - Ainz smiled at the two Servants, but they did not let him continue again.

"You," - the White one, finally, having examined the magician to the end, looked into his face, "You aren't from these place - are you?"

"That's right, girls," - Ainz smiled and nodded slightly, not forgetting to bow to the Red one.

"Hmmm, really?" - the White one took a step towards the magician, after which she stopped in front of him.

"Hey, what's going on?" - the Red one was indignant at the instant development of events - "Do you know him?"

"No, unfortunately we are not familiar," - Ainz smiled at the frisky girl, - "But I was going to fix it."

"Then get away!" - the Red one jumped up briskly, after which she turned to the White one, - "Damn filthy peasant!"

"You are so slow-witted that this is honestly a little bit frustrating," the White one pretended to fan out, "The fact that he does not run away from these two… things on your head already indicates that he is not just a peasant."

"That's right," Ainz smiled, after which, not finding a better option, he tried to explain the situation, "The fact is that I am on a mission to search for Servants."

"So another one from the Witch?" - the Red one instantly looked at Ainz in disgust, and then turned away - "Tell her that our answer is the same. Let her run to the four winds of heaven."

"Of course," the magician nodded. "But I am not a servant of the Witch. I am her opponent."

"Oh, really now?" - the White one reacted calmly to this, after which she looked around the mage again, - "And who in this doomed world is ready to fight the Witch?"

Deciding to add a little impressiveness to his words, Ainz said - "The French Army."

"What?" - the Red one just grinned to this - "Are they still alive? I thought they all were killed under Charite."

"During Charite, they suffered losses," Ainz was forced to agree, "However, they are still alive and continue their struggle."

"Struggle indeed" - the White one fanned herself several times, - "Hmm, in that case, as I understand it, would you like to involve us to this fight?"

Ainz just nodded.

"Yeah, of course," the Red one only grinned at this and turned around on the road again, waving her goodbye, "Not interested."

"My fellow traveler, of course, is kind of stupid," the White one did not miss the opportunity to prick her, watching how the Red one twitched from her mention, "However, she is right. We do not want to fight the Witch."

"Oh, that's how..." Ainz paused for a second. It's not that he expected he could so easily convince other Servants to fight on his side, but at the same time he also did not want to hear a negative answer, "Why?"

"And why should we?" - the Red one only grinned at it, stopping for a second, - "Your war - you fight."

"How I would not like to agree with this fake dragon," ignoring the cry "WHO DID YOU CALL A FAKE?!" the White one only sighed, "But she is right. This is simply not our battle."

"Ah, that's how..." - Ainz thought for a moment, "But, in that case - why did you end up being called into this world?"

"Who knows?" - White one only smiled, hiding her smile with a fan, - "But not for that - that's for sure."

"Hmm..." Ainz thought for a second. What could he say to them in such a way that he could convince them and force them to fight in a war that they considered foreign? What could he offer - if they were called without the Master, and therefore did not need his support to continue their existence?

Ainz lost in thought; however, no one was going to give him the opportunity to come up with the right answer. The Red one, having stopped to pay attention to the silent magician, simply went ahead, after which the White one, leaving him a farewell smile, went after her. Ainz, unconsciously, moved after them. The first one to draw attention to this was the Red one, who recognized the sound of the man's steps after the ten meters past.

"What else is not clear to you?" - the girl just sighed and turned to the magician, - "The Witch has won - you have lost. Now get out. Or should I explain it more lucidly?"

"Please don't bring this to bloodshed," Ainz tried to instantly minimize the conflict.

"Bloodshed, hmmm?" - the White one stopped after that, after which she looked again into the eyes of the magician, - "Are you not afraid of us at all? We are Servants."

"Yeah," the Red one only grinned, "I am a dragon - I can break you with one blow!"

"Dragon, pff," the White one only burst out, then closed her face with a fan.

"I know," Ainz only nodded at that, "But I have already met the Servants in our camp."

"In the camp?" - after these words, the Red one was surprised in earnest, - "Do these weaklings finally have someone strong?"

"Ah, that," Ainz thought for a second, not sure if he should tell all of it to those who had not even agreed to fight, "Yes, they did."

"Hmm, okay..." the White one thought about it, after which she looked around the magician, "And who is this - a man or a woman?"

Ainz still felt insecure about this, so he answered evasively, - "Men and women."

"Oh, there are several of them at once!" - the Red one intervened in the dialogue, finally going up to the speakers, forcing the White one to just look at that disapprovingly - "Fine! Who are they?"

"Unfortunately, I can't tell you that." Ainz just shook his head.

The White one did not react to this, clearly anticipating such an answer, but the Red one, not getting what she wanted, only looked at the magician with hostility.

"It seems you haven't understand who you are talking to, peasant!" - the girl took a step back, after which she punched her open palm with her fist - "We are Servants! Speak - who are they!"

Unfortunately, her speech would have had a greater effect if the White one's fan had not landed, immediately after that, on her head, between the horns, striking her with a soft pop-sound.

"Shut up, the fake dragon!" - the White one pulled the fan back to herself after that and looked at the mage - "Hmm... And was there someone… like a traveller among the called men?"

"What?" - Ainz pondered the question for a second. What did she mean - "like a traveller"? This definition was too vague to answer it unequivocally.

"Like a traveler," - the White one, however, tried to carefully interrogate the mage, - "Simple clothes... Slightly lost sight... Maybe he said that he once stayed in a temple…"

Ainz was only thinking about it, while the Red one was looking at her fellow traveler.

"Kiyo..." - the Red one tried to say something to the girl, but was instantly interrupted.

"Shut up, fake!" - the White one roared at the girl, after which she looked at the mage expectantly.

'Simple clothes, a lost sight…' - Ainz just thought about it. Hmm, if you consider the cloak as simple clothes, the only one who resembled this description was Archer. Of course, he did not talk about any temple - but on the other hand Ainz did not communicate with him all this time, so that he could easily just never talk about it.

"Hm, then," Ainz said thoughtfully, "Maybe this man is still in the camp..."

"HE IS THERE?!" - Ainz was suddenly significantly shaken when the White one lifted him by the chest - "WHO IS HE?! WHO IS HE?!"

"I can't tell you this," Ainz just said calmly, looking at the girl whose eyes didn't have any prudence, "The fact is that you..."

"DO NOT YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!" - the White one once again shake him, and then again and again, turning Ainz into a dummy toy with a dangling head, - "TELL ME QUICKLY WHO IS HE?!"

"I can't tell you this," it was not was not very comfortable for Ainz to talk in such situation, but if he was silent, the result could be even more tragic for him.

Instantly, the White one threw him off her hands like a sack, and then hung over him. Of course she was not tall and was too pretty to be menacing - but now nothing even hinted that she was calm just a minute ago. On the contrary - there was a monster, blazing with a fury, with a fire raging in her eyes. Even her small neat horns gleamed ominously, as if they reflected the glare from her golden eyes.

"Kiyo, why are you..." - almost frightened, the Red one watched the White one's actions, who didn't even pay attention to the words of the Servant.

"I will devour you right now," there wasn't a trace left of the girl's old sweet voice — now it sounded more like an ominous growl of a Cerberus, "There will be no even bones left of you to bury - even a dust. I will kill you - I will tear off your hands and feet, rip off your skin alive and crush your head with a heel - if you do not tell me right now - WHO IS HE?!"

"Hold Species," Ainz used the best paralysis spell he could at the moment. After a second, the girl whose hand he touched froze, losing control of her body. The Red one, seeing this, took a step back, after which a long red spear, ending in a spiral top, instantly materialized in her hand.

"What did you do?!" - She demanded an answer, immediately pointing a spear at the mage.

"I just decided to stop your friend before she would do something stupid," Ainz peacefully raised his hands, then slowly dropped them, breaking the spell. Kiyo, instantly gaining control of herself, immediately recovered and slightly dusted herself off.

"Hmm, I apologize for my unexpected outburst of emotions," the girl bowed to Ainz, "However, as I understand it, you won't tell me who is this man in the camp?"

To this, the magician only shook his head.

"And you are not as harmless as it might seem," the girl just dusted herself off after these words and looked at the mage that spread his hands, "Hmm, in that case - really, I have no other choice."

Ainz prepared for the girl's new actions, but she only looked at him and bowed, "Swear that the man you mentioned is fighting on your side."

Ainz did not name a specific person, but he still decided to nod at it, - "I swear."

There was silence for a second, during which the Red one continued to nervously glancing at the two speakers.

"You are not lying," Kiyo said a moment later, a little surprised, after which her pupils dilated, "You are not lying. You are really not lying."

"Of course," Ainz nodded. He used to keeping his word - and never lie - if it was not about his enemies, or during the battle, of course, - "I do not lie."

For a second, Kiyo fell silent, after which she suddenly sniffed. This was such an unexpected action for Ainz that he blinked from the sound.

"Anchin…" - Kiyo said this, and then sniffed again, - "Anchin... Anchin, you still came back... You came back for me!"

After that, as if the power had disappeared from the girl's legs, she instantly fell off - and if it weren't for Ainz, who had caught her one second before falling to the ground, she would surely have hit her head. After that, however, Kiyo unexpectedly squeezed the mage in her arms.

"Anchin... Anchin... Anchin!" - She continued to sob, trying to hug the mage stronger. Ainz felt at this moment somewhat uncomfortable, but nevertheless reciprocated hesitantly the girl's hug, "Anchin! Anchin! Anchin!"

"Kiyo..." the Red one took a step towards the girl she had seen in such a pitiful state for the first time.

Ainz just continued to hold the girl in his arms, feeling that her tears were soaking his clothes.

So, for several minutes, the situation was stabilized, after which the White one nevertheless pulled away from the magician and brushed away the tears from her face.

"Well, I understand," the girl sighed, finally pulling herself together, after which she looked carefully at the magician, stepping away from her, "In that case, apparently, I really have no choice."

After these words, Ainz tensed for a second, but this was not required.

"I agree," Kiyo nodded, after which she looked at Ainz, a little surprised, "I agree to join you if you take me to this man."

"Kiyo, are you crazy?!" - the Red one was indignant at the decision of her companion.

"Shut up!" - But in response to this Kiyo only shouted at the girl, after which she turned to Ainz, - "Those are my terms. Do you agree to them?"

"Of course," Ainz just nodded to that, after which he turned his gaze to the Red one, "I would have brought you to this man anyway - if you become our ally."

"This whole world has gone crazy!" - the Red one clutched her head, after which she looked at Ainz - "Well, in that case - I, apparently, have no choice too."

The Red one twisted her spear, which never disappeared after the initial summoning, and then made an elegant curtsy, twisting the spike in her hands in the manner of a pole — "Elizabeth Bathory, the great countess in front of you! Rejoice!"

"In that case - even if this unsuccessful fake dragon has introduced herself - I'm afraid it would be impolite for me to remain silent," the White one made a small bow, "Kiyohime is at your service."

"Thank you," the magician also nodded in response, "Ainz. Ainz Ooal Gown."

"Well, in that case - since all the questions have been settled..." Kiyohime sighed. "Take me to my Anchin."

Ainz nodded and extended out his hand for a teleportation spell.

'Kiyohime... It's from some kind of legend, isn't it?' he thought for a second before the spell - 'I think I heard about it once... However, Elizabeth Bathory?.. This name seems familiar to me too - but where have I heard of it before?..'


Kiyohime took a step toward Archer, that looked frowningly at her in response, and then slowly moved around, trying to look at him from all sides. Archer, bound by order, only stood still, feeling how the girl was examining him as if he was a museum exhibit.

Kiyohime circled around Archer at first from the one side, then from the other one - then carefully looked him up and down, and, in the end, approached the Servant and, just in case, sniffled the air. Archer did not know how he would react if she tried to lick him or do something similarly disturbing, but before this Kiyohime pulled away from Archer and then shook her head.

"There is a slight resemblance, but..." the girl shook her head again, "You are not Anchin."

After that, Kiyohime took a step away from Archer and turned to the mage, "You could not know this - and you did not lie to me, however... This is not the person I was looking for."

Ainz nodded to Archer, that was just glad to disappear from the scene, leaving the mage alone with the girl.

"It's not him," the girl shook her head again, "it's not him at all..."

Ainz was not sure what he had to do in this situation - so he chose, as it seemed to him, the only reasonable tactic - he hugged the girl. She didn't reciprocate - but she didn't move away from the magician either, which already looked like a small victory for Ainz.

"No, it's nothing, I understand," the girl only nodded sadly to herself, "It was foolish to hope that I could meet him just by chance..."

Ainz could not say anything, so he just let the girl deal with her feelings. Kiyohime, though, after waiting a few seconds, nevertheless gently pulled away from the Ainz, wiping the traces of the tears on her face.

"In any case, you have kept your part of the deal - and I appreciate it," the girl smiled. "In that case, I suppose I have no choice but to keep my own. I will fight for your cause - and, in that case, I believe Elizabeth will too."

"Thank you," Ainz nodded to this, after which he felt a pulling feeling, which meant an attempt to establish a magical contact. The mage nodded to the girl, that she luckily understood correctly and moved away from the necromancer. Waiting a few second, until Kiyohime got far enough away from him, he took the call.

"Master," Hassan's voice sounded the same as always, "We found another Servant."

"Great..." - Ainz nodded to himself - "I will teleport now."

"Wait, Master," - however Hassan suddenly objected, "This is Chevalier d'Eon."

"Huh..." - Ainz paused for a second.

"Yes," Hassan nodded. "He says he wants to give us information about the Witch."


Physical Resistance: B+

It is difficult to name a thing from the ordinary world - even if it could hurt the Servant at all - capable of inflicting enough damage to bypass resistance at this level. Only the most powerful weapons invented by men - the weapons of the last chance and the doomsday - are capable of posing a threat to the owner of such a rank of defense; and even among them, only the most powerful, whose strength is measured not in thousands of tons, but more - are capable of reaching the body of the mage at all - however, minus the received damage, even such an attack will at best turn into a small push from a child received by the athlete. Taking into account not only this skill, but also other ways of protection - such as other skills, equipment, spells and used items - humanity is doomed in the event of a collision with such an enemy. As for the Servants - of course, there are those among them who can overcome such a level of resistance - however, due to such a reduction of damage from the attack, other abilities of the mage and his quite impressive reserves of Endurance - it is difficult to predict what physical strength the Servant should possess, so that he can be considered even a theoretical threat to the owner of a skill of a similar rank.
 
Chapter 21: Chevalier's Information
Chapter 21: Chevalier's Information

For a second, Ainz froze.

"Chevalier?" - the mage blinked several times, trying to understand what was said - "What does he want?"

The words "Chevalier had information about the Witch" were clear to Ainz. Though he did not understand the motivation for Saber's act.

"Hassan?" The mage reached for Assassin. "Have you contacted him?"

"No" - a negative answer came from the Servant - "I found Saber, who was in the open in the middle of the road, after which I gave him the opportunity to feel my presence - and he announced that he would like to give us some information, if he could meet with my Master. After that, I transfered the information immediately to you, Lord Mage. "

"Good," Ainz nodded. "In that case, retreat from Saber's position at least for a kilometer - after which I will move to you along with the rest of the Servants."

"Of course," Hassan nodded, and then disconnected from Ainz, leaving the mage alone with his thoughts.

Could Saber's proposal be a trap?

"No," Ainz shook his head. "Could it not be a trap?"

Ainz could not answer this. His whole mind, all his experience shouted to him that this was a trap - but a trap for what? Maybe Saber planned to attack them? No, that would be stupid in the current situation - after Ainz and his Servants demonstrated that they were able to fight the Witch on an equal ground he would need all the firepower the Witch possessed in order to have at least some chance.

Maybe he was planning then not to a battle, but usage of some particularly strong ability? During the days of Yggdrasil, many players - even Ainz Ooal Gown itself used similar tactics, luring opponents into the open and then launching several powerful attacks over the area to destroy the enemy in one blow. Yes, this was the most logical behavior for Saber - perhaps, seeing the strength of the Servants and Ainz, he decided to play the bait in order to lure them - and kill them with a single blow. In this case, two questions remained - regarding the Servants used in ambush and Chevalier himself. The first one was particularly difficult - in the time of Yggdrasil, there were many builds and mobs specializing in attacking from far distances, so an attack even from a distance of ten kilometers was possible - while some really special abilities or equipment, such as Ahura Mazda, were capable of causing its effect throughout the game, so there was no obstacle for them... In this case, there was a question about Chevalier himself. Was he protected from attack - or did the Witch decide to sacrifice one of her Servants in order to destroy Ainz? This question bothered Ainz, because depending on the answer to it, he needed to choose the most correct strategy.

Turning to Bathory, Kiyohime and Archer, Ainz used the teleportation spell, and then instantly appeared next to Hassan. Assassin, noticing the appearance of new faces next to him, only nodded to Ainz - "Lord Mage."

"Hassan," Ainz also nodded in response, after which he turned his gaze to the horizon, where in the distance there was an obscure cloudy spot that was Chevalier, "Are there any other Servants around?"

"No, Lord Mage." Hassan only shook it negatively, causing Ainz to frown.

'So they are hiding…' - the magician nodded to this thought - "In that case..."

"Summon Undead: First" - according to the formula of the spell, the mana of the mage instantly began to take shape. This form was not even ten percent as impressive as in the battle with Dracula - instead of the grave cold, only Archer, who was the most sensitive to magic, felt a light cool breeze, after which a small black haze began to take on the shape of a human body. Although this feeling was here only for a second - a moment later, black puffs of smoke formed a skeleton. An ordinary human skeleton, which immediately took an awkward step forward.

"Necromancy..." an instant voice was heard over his ear and Ainz turned to see Bathory's face twisted in a grimace of contempt and disgust. Her fellow traveler, Kiyohime, although turned out to be much more tactful and only covered her face with a fan, also, it seems, did not approve of the actions of the magician.

'Definitely, Necromancers are not liked in this world either,' Ainz sighed. This was not a surprise to him - necromancers were also pretty much hated in Yggdrasil, since almost all necromancers had negative karma, which is why they were a priority goal for PK, second only to players who chose a heteromorphic race. In addition, a player with negative karma could not be taken into a team by players with positive karma, of which the majority were in the game, since the NPC's and the guards reacted negatively to them, refusing to give quests or even attacking them straight away, because of that the necromancers were not respected throughout the game, so that he was nevertheless ready for such an attitude - although it seemed strange to him - 'Necromancers are extremely useful - is it really just because they are working with the dead? Why then a completely different attitude towards clerics or doctors - they also often deal with the dead... I completely do not understand.'

Of course, this was not the case at all, but the fact that in the new world necromancy was strongly associated with numerous victims and dark rituals. In addition, the need for deaths and corpses to experiment for necromancers often forced them to act in extremely dirty ways, up to unleashing wars - because of which prejudice against the necromancers was more than justified - however, Ainz himself, of course, did not know about it.

"Undeath Slave Sight," Ainz used the following ability, after which he felt a new picture from the eyes of the created skeleton began to appear just in front of him.

"Hm, then I'm going to meet Chevalier in this guise," the skeleton said unexpectedly, causing the other Servants to flinch and look at the bones of the human.

"Of course, Lord Mage," was the only answer from Hassan, to which Ainz in the body of a skeleton only nodded and, turning around, moved to meet Chevalier.

Chevalier met the approach of the unknown skeleton calmly, waiting until the undead would came to the distance of the conversation.

"So, there really are undead among yours too," Saber smiled, throwing a comment somewhere to the side, after which he looked calmly at the mage in the body of the skeleton. "Are you a messenger?"

"No," Ainz answered through the skeleton's body, "I'm listening to what you wanted to say, Chevalier d'Eon"

"Are you afraid of traps?" - Saber smiled, - "Of course, this is the most logical move that I could expect from you. My respect for your caution."

To this Chevalier took off his hat and waved it in appreciation, to which Ainz did not react in any way, continuing to remain in the body of the skeleton.

"Well, then, in that case, I believe that I should make my proposal," Chevalier sighed, "I have some information regarding the Witch — as well as some information that will be personally useful to you."

"I'm listening." Ainz just stared at Saber even more attentively, but he only shook his head.

"No, not so fast," Chevalier shook his head and put forward a finger, "First, I need guarantees."

"Guarantees?" - Ainz thoughtfully looked at Saber, - "For what?"

"My safety, of course!" - Chevalier looked at Ainz uncomprehendingly, as if he was saying some kind of stupidity, - "I need guarantees that after I give you current information I can leave independently from the results of our agreement and you will not follow me, just in case or to kill the lonely Servant."

"I would not do such a stupid thing anyway," Ainz sighed. "There is too much chance of falling into a trap."

"Oh," Chevalier was surprised, then smiled, "My respect for your forethought and honesty. In this case - I demand one more guarantee. If I give you two different data, wouldn't it be logical to receive two reciprocal courtesies?"

"I'm ready to listen to what you want to say," Ainz nodded in the skeleton's body, but nevertheless refused an unequivocal agreement with Saber's proposal, making him smile.

"I don't want to die," Saber simply said, "I've seen you in a battle, and from the results of the clash, I understand that you can defeat Jeanne — or the Witch, as she is called among her foes. When she dies, her Servants will follow her. I do not want such a fate - therefore I propose a contract. When the Witch dies, you will make me your Servant, after which you will take me with you."

"Reasonable," Ainz nodded. Fear of death has always been a very powerful motivator for people, so something that Chevalier said was completely logical and reasonable - "However, it will depend on your actions. If you die during the battle or while fighting my Servants…"

"In that case, the fault is entirely on me, I understand that," Saber nodded. "In that case, I suppose this deal was made?"

"Perhaps," Ainz nodded at this, after which he looked at Saber, "And now I need information."

"Of course," Saber nodded in response, "Regarding information about the Witch... The fact is that, as you may have noticed, my Milady is quite a vengeful and impulsive mistress, so it will not be a surprise for you to find out that she often collects prisoners whom she later tortures and throws into cells in her cities, leaving them to die for her fun after."

"Yes, I know about that," Ainz nodded in response, remembering John.

"In this case, I must say that she periodically visits Vichy," Chevalier sighed, "However, Vichy is still a city that has not been destroyed or plundered. Perhaps this is the only city other than Orleans, where Milady maintains at least some semblance of order."

"Hm," Ainz nodded, but Chevalier hadn't finished speaking.

"The fact is that Vichy contains Etienne de Vignolles, a former associate of Jeanne," Chevalier sighed, "And perhaps the only person - besides, of course, you — whom Jeanne is afraid of. By the decision of Deputy of Jeanne, instead of executing him, she decided to entice him to her side - but Etienne refused this up to this point. Once she tried to do this with John of Alencon - however, his refusals forced her to send him to death. With Etienne, the situation is similar: the only difference is that Milady's patience has not ended for now - however, this moment is not as far as one may think. Most likely, in the next meeting or two, Milady's patience will end - and she will order Etienne to be executed in public. However, such a person will be extremely useful to you - and to me. If you can free Etienne and publicly defeat Milady and her Servants - or at least make them retreat - you will be able to raise a revolt in Vichy and attract significant forces under your banner."

"Thank you," Ainz nodded. This information required reflection, but it was definitely useful in order to sow doubts in the ranks of the Witch... In those ranks that were still alive, of course. Perhaps, in this case, he would be able to call a certain number of people to battle with the Witch, to which the army would become not only a distraction, but also a force that could at least deal with the many wyverns and the undead in the service of the Witch.

"Good," Chevalier finally sighed. "But it's not so simple. The fact is that there are several Servants in Vichy who, in the case of an open attack on Vichy, will simply kill Etienne."

"Then it needs to be pulled off covertly..." Ainz sighed. "I understand."

"It is good that you understand this," Chevalier sighed. "However, there is little time left for this. After the unsuccessful fight with you, Milady planned to visit Etienne tomorrow - and, considering that she would be quite angered after losing - Etienne's resistance would be perceived by her extremely poorly..."

"In other words, you say that it is necessary to rescue Etienne today?" - Ainz looked at Saber.

"This is a possible option, but it will be best to rescue him tomorrow," Chevalier shook his head, "The fact is that if you manage to rescue Etienne - even if you fight the Servants of Milady - this can be perceived quite ambiguously. However, if you manage to take the Dragon Witch herself out…"

"Hm, I understand what you're talking about," Ainz looked at Saber, "Are you offering your powers to fight her?"

"No," Chevalier shook his head, "To battle with her will be the end for me — using her Command Spells, she will simply make me commit suicide — which is the last thing I want to happen. I am ready to help with infiltration, but I will not fight with Milady, at least, until the very last moment."

"I understand," Ainz nodded, after which he remembered, "What about the second information?"

"Ah, that ..." Chevalier sighed. "You need a dragon fighter."

At that moment Ains froze for a second.

"And her dragon is flying here now," Chevalier sighed. "My goal was to find you and hold you up until the attack — which I successfully managed."

At that moment, the skeleton looked at Chevalier, to which he shook his head - "Not so fast - you promised me the opportunity to calmly leave this conversation - and since you are not me - I trust your promise. I will contact you a little later regarding Vichy."

With these words, Chevalier made the final bow, after which he turned and headed away. The skeleton, having existed for another second with Ainz's mind inside, then crumbled to dust.


"A dragon is moving toward us," Ainz announced this news before Archer could express it, "A real dragon."

All the Servants present instantly understood the seriousness of Ainz's words.

Dragons have always been the strongest - and this was true not only for Yggdrasil; in the world where Ainz was now, dragons were also the strongest, most dangerous and powerful of the opponents - the battle with Saint Martha served as evidence of this. Even having called only the shadow in the form of her own Noble Phantasm, she was not only able to confront, but practically win the battle with two Servants, Archer and Hassan, who also used their trump cards - and even after her defeat using tactics designed to eliminate Martha, if the intervention of Marie Antoinette had not occurred, she could have defeated both of them even after her death. In other words, the appearance of a real dragon in full force meant danger - even in the current battle,even if there are seven Servants and Ainz present on their side - none of them was going to underestimate the danger that the enemy represented. At least almost no one.

"Fine!" There was an exclamation from Bathory, who only took a step forward, waving her tail in anticipation," A battle between two dragons — what could be better?!"

"I would not want to fight in this battle, so the battle of two dragons is postponed," Kiyohime just threw a phrase, and then turned to Ainz, "Although what happens next is completely up to you."

"We must fight now," - even before Marie Antoinette appeared in the field of vision of the mage, he could hear her voice full of righteous indignation - Mashu and Mozart walking behind her only looked helplessly at the girl, burning with great fury - "If we don't destroy the threat now - it will turn towards the army - or even worse, innocent people!"

Ainz could not help but acknowledge the truthfulness of the girl's words, but it could not be said that he was too concerned about such a development - on the contrary, it would be even better if the dragon were confronted with some other soldiers, since Ainz could then assess the dragon's power and abilities.

Though, with any other opponent, he would certainly follow the lead of Marie Antoinette and face it in battle - even if the opponents were Servants... Even five Servants - he could fight them. But if a dragon was his opponent, he still considered it necessary to prioritize his safety and the information gathered.

However, Ainz himself did not have time to speak out before his thoughts were voiced out by a somewhat unexpected ally in this situation.

"Although I rarely disagree with the decisions of my queen - unfortunately, this is such an occasion," was what Mozart said, before turning to Marie Antoinette, "Mari, in the current circumstances, to battle with a dragon is complete madness, especially given the reinforcement from other Servants and the Witch herself. The goal of the Witch is us - or rather, our allies, so that the Witch will continue to pursue in the event of our retreat - she will not attack the army, since she considers it unworthy of her attention - otherwise she would attack the army long before. She will continue to hunt us."

"But what about the city!" - after these words, Ainz looked at the distant houses, barely distinguishable from a distance. When he asked Marie Antoinette to help with teleportation he did not teleport to the very walls of the city, but only moved to a distance from which he could see Thiers, so he could only make out distant silhouettes of the city. It was impossible even to Archer to distinguish between hanging banners and people from such a distance, so they could not say how the city looked in detail - however at the same time, the absence of rising smoke and destroyed stone buildings spoke in favor of the fact that the city was either taken long ago by the Witch herself or, which was unlikely but still possible - is still free, so theoretically the Witch could afflict her grudge on it. However, once again, Ainz's thoughts were articulated by a somewhat unexpected ally.

"To battle under such conditions is suicide," Archer said, stepping forward, drawing the attention of all those present, "Even three Servants against one dragon do not guarantee us victory - not to mention the Witch herself and her Servants. The most logical action to take in this case is a retreat."

"But there are people!" - Marie turned to Archer, completely ignoring Ainz, - "People that we... that I have to protect! How can we leave them simply because we could die?!"

"Enough!" - Arthuria's voice thundered like lightning, silencing those who spoke, while making Ainz and Mashu that were already silent - even more silent. Marie, having heard the exclamation, only turned to Arthuria - but instead of sympathy or understanding she saw something completely alien to her eyes. Contempt, - "A true King must understand when he is obliged to accept the battle, and when he must retreat in order to fight another day. One who does not understand this simple truth is not able to be a King... Or a Queen."

"But..." Marie Antoinette began almost pitifully, and Mashu tried to support her words, but Arthuria's cold gaze silenced both of them, turning the timid speech of support from Shielder into a silent hitch.

"A true King sacrifices a lot in order to achieve his goal," Arthuria's gaze was cold and hard, forcing even Ainz, who haven't said anything and even supported her idea, to shrink, not to mention Marie Antoinette, "He who is not capable to realize this is not worthy to be the King of his people."

After that, Marie Antoinette as if wilted, only nodded slowly, allowing others to decide their fate. Ainz, of course, sympathized with the girl - she reminded him of Bukubukuchagama somehow. A defender and protector of the weak, she was ready to come to the rescue of any of Ainz Ooal Gown - however, she understood when a battle was impossible to win and did not try to fight in an unwinnable war. Therefore, Ainz, while sympathizing with Marie Antoinette, nevertheless used the teleportation spell.


"This is definitely a trap," was Archer's verdict when he heard from Ainz about Chevalier's proposal. Ainz himself also agreed to this, confirming the Servants' conjectures.

"It is most likely that this is a trap," the mage managed to think it over. Secret covert operation in the enemy's den by a trusted Witch champion, who declared himself a traitor? It definitely looked like a trap - it could have been more suspicious only if Chevalier himself had suggested an operation in the fortress under the guise of prisoners - "However, the information he provided are nevertheless crucial. If Etienne is really kept in Vichy, then we cannot simply ignore it - he will be extremely useful for the French army."

"It is true," Archer could not disagree, "However, what is the point of reinforcing the army? Yes, they can distract the Witch's troops, opening the way for us inside Orleans - however,, the current number of soldiers is enough for this purpose. The return of morale to the soldiers could be justified if they are able to fight the Servants, but - even if the army tripled, even if we raise a riot - this would not allow the troops to fight them on equal terms."

Ainz fell silent on this, but instead, Hassan intervened in the conversation.

"Perhaps this is so," Assassin said calmly, "But in this case, the morale of the soldiers is not as important as the unrest that they would cause . Even if the army itself is not able to fight the Servants - the Witch has already shown that she does not only wants to destroy, but also capture cities - which means that she will have to suppress the rebellions. And for this, she will use not only dragons and undead - she will have to send her trusted lieutenants - her Servants. As the Witch herself has already shown, she cannot use teleportation, which means that the Servants sent to these cities will not be able to return in time for the battle in Orleans. Even one Servant who is absent during the assault of the fortress will be of great help, which cannot be ignored."

"Don't you consider this a trap?" - Archer looked at Hassan carefully, to which he only shook his head.

"No, it's definitely a trap," Hassan sighed, "I give it a ninety percent chance of it - but at the same time, if it's not a trap, then we cannot ignore such an opportunity. Moreover, even if it is a trap, then the victory over the ambush will have a certain effect on the Vichy population too."

"I don't think Chevalier will agree to a dozen Servants going undercover," Archer shook his head. "If the ambush forces are too large, then those sent to this mission will die."

"Yes," Hassan easily agreed with this statement, "Therefore, I believe that we should sacrifice those Servants whose loss is not critical."

"And who do you want to sacrifice?" - Archer looked at Hassan coldly.

"Me," Assassin immediately answered.

After listening to the dialogue, the Servants and Ainz fell silent after such a calm, prudent decision.

"I'm most suited to missions of this type," Hassan nodded to his words, "And my fighting abilities are minimal at the moment. I have no other Noble Phantasm, besides what the Witch knows already, and I am not suitable for open battles with the remaining opponents - my loss is most insignificant in the current conditions."

"Hm," Archer couldn't argue with that logic, and was silent for a second, "Then Serenity..."

Ainz wanted to confirm this, but instead, Hassan only abruptly interrupted the Servant's reasoning - "Serenity is absolutely necessary for the future plan."

"Hmm?" - Archer glanced at Hassan, - "And why?"

To this Assassin only looked at Ainz, who felt a surge of panic.

'Don't tell me that I should tell you about the real reason why I left her in the camp!' - the magician felt a drop of sweat run off his forehead, but for him the miracle happened and Hassan only calmly turned calmly to Archer.

"It is necessary for the plan of the Lord Mage," after which the views of all the Servants crossed at Ainz, "If he did not consider it necessary to share this plan with you, he definitely had reasons for this."

Ainz nearly shrugged when Archer's cold gaze stopped at him for a few seconds before he nodded. "Well, let it be."

'I am saved!' - Ainz's second of contentment was instantly stopped by the Suppression of Emotions, but he still retained a deep sense of satisfaction in his soul.

"In any case," Archer nevertheless tried to argue, even feeling a reasonableness from the words of an Assassin, "Even so, as you said, your abilities are not suitable for the battle with the Servants of the Witch. You cannot defeat them all alone."

"Yes," Hassan nodded, acknowledging the truthfulness of Archer's words and fell silent, forcing the entire impromptu discussion to plunge into silence.

To help Hassan, other Servants were needed - those possessing a certain power, a certain skill in secrecy and capable of sacrificing themselves in the event of a battle - and therefore not being Ainz.

"I can go," Ainz turned his attention to Bathory, about whom he had forgotten a little, and then looked at her impressive horns that protruded above her head.

"It's almost painful how stupid you are," Kiyohime muttered quietly into her open fan, after which, at the moment when Lancer turned to her with an indignant face, ready to express everything that she thought about her friend, smacked a folded fan in her face, - "You have huge horns and a half-meter tail. Are you sure you're suitable for stealth missions?"

Bathory became silent about this, either from outrage for such a contemptuous attitude towards herself, or from embarrassment for the proposed idea.

"Good," said Archer, "In that case..."

"I'll go," Ainz's gaze shot to the side to find Marie Antoinette there.

"What?" - it seemed that even Mozart was dumbfounded by such a decision, but he nevertheless tried to gently convince her, - "Mari, maybe…"

"No," she said clearly, and Ainz could see a firm determination in her eyes, "I will go."

"If I could not fight the dragon — I must try to do at least something for my people," after that Marie turned around, looking around at everyone present. "My fighting abilities are not the best, but at the same time I possess a strong Noble Phantasm capable of defeating the ambush. It's also easy to disguise me and my voice is suitable for covert operations as it can charm other people. I am perfect for this job."

Archer looked at the girl and was forced to nod slowly. "Well, maybe..."

"In that case, I'm afraid that I also have to go," said Mozart as follows, "If this is the will of my queen."

"Amadeus, you shouldn't ..." Rider tried to say something, but was instantly stopped by the Caster's finger on her lips.

"I have also made my decision," Mozart smiled, after which he looked at Archer and then, as if the commander in this situation was Ainz, at the necromancer, "My strength is insignificant, but it will be useful in any battle as a support — besides, to me it is also will not be difficult to masquerade as someone else."

"Good," Archer said next and sighed. "In that case, I suppose I myself is also the most suitable for this mission. So four in total."

Turning his eyes to Ainz, which made the mage to remember that he was actually the commander of the operation, Archer nodded. "In that case... Master?"

Ainz hesitated for a second, but, having determined that Archer definitely understood his job and probably even chose the most suitable candidates needed for the infiltration, nodded.


Jeanne continued to look at her standard as if she had seen it for the first time in her life, again for the last few days. No, of course, she was familiar with the drawings, shapes, every scuff and scratch on her own weapons, but at the same time it seemed to her as if she had never seen her spear. It seemed as if she had never held it in her hands, inspiring the people of France to greatness - and yet it also seemed as if she had always done so. Such was the life of the Servant - especially of a Servant who had lost his strength and memories. And at the same time, if she had simply been called as a Servant, even if incomplete, she would probably not have pondered these questions.

"I have received information from the Master," Cu Chulainn appeared suddenly, peering inside the tent, where Jeanne was currently looking at her banner, forcing her to pay attention to him, "Apparently, some big operation is planned, after which we should expect the Witch's attack."

"Good," Jeanne tried to nod confidently, but judging by the fact that Cu Chulainn only looked at her sadly and disappeared, she didn't get it as convincing as the girl herself would have liked.

Jeanne continued to watch for several seconds after the disappeared Cu Chulainn, after which she turned her gaze to her standard.

Too weak.

This was not belittling her abilities or an act of self-flagellation. That was a fact.

She was too weak.

Of course, she was called up incorrectly, completely not in the quality in which she had to fight - but this remained a fact.

Jeanne was a Saint. At least everyone around her always called her it. Saint of Orleans, Holy Maiden, Savior of France. The symbol of victory.

Is that all?

She was only a symbol - and that was all she was?

Jeanne had to fight the Witch. Fight against her, as befits a protector of people. To defeat evil, as the Holy One should.

But she was too weak.

Even now, while the Witch was doing her atrocities under her guise, Jeanne sat in a camp. She did not wait for a moment to strike - even in an attack on the army she was... Not useless - but still not strong enough. All that was necessary from her was to appear when the forces of the Witch arrive at the camp, and then allow the other Servants to fulfill their mission and defeat the monsters of the Witch, stealing their glory for herself.

Even now, the mission to attack the Witch fell on the shoulders of her ally, Ainz, who had provided her with all his strength, a plan, and even a meeting with her old friend. Her entire mission depended on Ainz. Her entire mission was carried out by Ainz. In that case...

Was this still her mission?

During her life, Jeanne did not consider herself a Saint, she always called herself a servant of God, a simple girl that once heard the words of the Lord. But being called as a Servant, she called herself a Saint. She considered herself a Saint, as if it were natural. As if she really were a Saint. The Saint whom people called her.

Such was the life of a Servant. Jeanne could consider herself all the same Jeanne, which she was during her lifetime - but she was not. She was not Jeanne - a girl from Domremy, the one that played with the village boys, swinging sticks like a swords and calling herself a knight. She was the one whom the people of France saw in Jeanne d'Arc — Saint, savior, hero.

Who, then, was the Dragon Witch?

Jeanne considered herself a Saint - a sinless maiden, the savior of France. She was the image of whom she created. A Saint in whom there was not a drop of evil, not a drop of darkness or hatred. The perfect Saint.

But was there really no darkness in her?

She fought in the war. She saw blood, death, pain - burnt villages and hanged peasants. She saw what she didn't want to see. But did she see everything?

War is terrible - violence, hunger, pestilence, betrayal, death - too many things accompany war to ignore them. But it seemed to her that she... was not involved in this.

She was a Saint after all. The symbol of France and the savior of Orleans. Noble Saint. After all, she did not want blood. She did not want death. She did not want robberies, looting, despair on the faces of the soldiers who saw her approaching army. She didn't want that. But could not prevent it. For France, she was a heroine, but for England she was a nightmare.

A great army full of loyal warriors - excellent commanders who understand the intricacies of war - and an imminent victory, which meant the death of soldiers - colleagues, friends, fathers and sons.

Was the Witch what Jeanne, the Saint could not see - but ordinary soldiers did? Fighting in a distant war, carrying out the orders of their king, for his ambitions and dubious cause? Have they seen her like that - a Dragon Witch? A terrible monster, as if it had come out of their nightmares — a city destroyer, a killer of people leading an army of horrors, led by crazy champions dedicated to her alone?

And even if they saw it - did Jeanne herself see it? She always considered herself a simple girl - but could she just not notice the bloody trail stretching behind her? Could she just consider herself standing above these horrors? Could she just lay the blame for everything on the shoulders of her soldiers, of her comrades-in-arms, of her friends? Could she really consider herself to be one who is not concerned with the death of the english people - could she considers herself a Saint?

Noble Saint, in which there is no place for vice, horror, anger, pride, cowardice?

And did she continue to consider herself it now?

She was a Saint - but what does it really mean? The Holy Grail considered her a Saint, the Throne of Heroes considered her a Saint, her people considered her a Saint. But what was the truth really?

Jeanne again looked at her so painfully familiar and unfamiliar standard, and closed her eyes.


Physical Resistance: B+ (Case)

Resistance to physical damage is one of the basic parameters for Yggdrasil characters, one of the basics indicating the ability of a player or NPC to withstand damage done without using magic. Theoretically, the existence of characters without resistance to physical damage is, of course, possible - however, in practice, physical resistance is even more necessary than magical one, since no matter how common magic is among players and game mobs, physical attacks has always remained an opportunity available to any character outside of its characteristics, abilities, classes, races and levels.

In the world of Servants, such a skill is also theoretically possible, but unlike magic resistance, it is incredibly rare. Although theoretically most of the Servants have at least some insignificant resistance to physical damage due to their equipment, armor in particular, at the same time, even a fairly small level of such resistance associated with skills or even Phantasm is a rarity, the prerogative of the greatest spirits such as Siegfried or Achilles.
 
Chapter 22: Mission
Chapter 22: Mission

Hassan continued to grimly look at the slowly approaching banners on Vichy's gate, feeling the rickety cart creaked under his weight.

"We're getting closer," Marie Antoinette, as if to just state an obvious fact, said it and then leaned over a cart wall to Mozart, who was holding the reins, looking at him.

"Rider, don't attract more attention to us than necessary," Archer said frowningly, after which he wrapped himself tighter in a cloak from someone else's shoulder, "We are already quite suspicious."

Rider, obeying the man's words, returned to her seat, after which she straightened her dress, "It doesn't fit me."

"Mari, this is not clothes created by your tailors - of course, it will not be designed for you," Mozart just lazily looked at his own shirt and a pair of worn pants, and then sighed, "At least they washed it."

Hassan was not particularly against such a decision, but did not share the views of his fellow travelers. He could get rid of an entire peasant family without dropping a drop of blood on their clothes, after which they could pick up their cart without resistance, but instead, Marie Antoinette offered her ring for such a junk. Hassan was not against making deals, but in this particular case it seemed to him that a golden ring decorated with a ruby was still worth more than peasant clothes and a half-dead horse with a rickety cart in addition, even if the peasants at least offered to wash their clothes and feed them dinner. Fortunately, Assassin himself did not need to change into someone else's clothes because of his skills, which hid him from prying eyes. Unfortunately, this method was not suitable for masking the rest.

The gates gradually came closer and closer - unlike military fortresses they passed before, they were open wide, but no carts full of merchant goods or people on foot moved through them. There was practically no people on the streets inside the city itself too - only sometimes residents of the city timidly looked around and slipped out, immediately escaping the streets into the doors of another building.

"Fat Duck Pub" - Hassan read the name of the place that the random traveller on the streets chose and shook his head - " In spite of whatever happened, this trait will always remain with people."

"Hold!" - the voice of the guard was heard when the wagon had already entered the city, after which Hassan saw a man dressed in chainmail appearing from a small gatehouse - "Who are you?!"

"Peasants", - Mozart was the first to speak with the guard, forcing the guard to pay attention to the guy, - "We are going to this city."

"And for what reason?" - the man casts a suspicious look at the cart, pausing to look at Archer - "Not the best time for festivals."

"Yeah, it's not," Mozart agreed, sighing, after which he looked into the guard's eyes, "Yet we have nowhere else to go."

Understanding flashed in the man's eyes, after which he examined Mozart once more, not looking at him much, then Marie Antoinette, then again carefully looking at Archer, nodded in his direction,- "And this one?"

"We picked a traveler along the way," Mozart answered again, after which he looked at Archer himself, as if evaluating him, "He says that he also has nowhere to go."

"Can't he speak for himself?" - the guard took a step towards the man wrapped in a cloak.

"I have nothing else to say," came Archer's voice, as tired as possible, "I have nowhere to go and nothing to do. They brought me here - it means I will look for happiness in the city. If I can't find it - I'll go to the next one."

The guard once again carefully glanced at him, - "Are you carrying a weapon?"

"Would be - if I have one," Archer answered to this, after which he opened his cloak a bit, allowing the guard to see the absence of a sword on his belt, and then snapped back.

Once again, with a disapproving glance at the man wrapped in a cloak, the guard shook his head, "I really need to check you - but for what? What good will a weapon bring you in this city?"

"Okay, you may go," the guard finally waved his hand, then turned around and slowly began to walk back to his gatehouse, without even looking at the cart.

"It's even worse than I thought," the voice of Marie Antoinette was faded, so that without even looking at her, Hassan could have guessed that she continued to look after the leaving guard.

"Wyverns on the walls," Archer noticed this instantly, and then said quietly, "Every two hundred meters. The guards are trying to not get close to them, they are afraid."

Mozart only nodded at this, after which he slightly spurred the horse, forcing the horse to move forward.

The streets of the city were deserted, but not because there was no one left in the city - Hassan himself occasionally saw the faces of people in the openings of doors and windows looking at the daredevils who ventured to enter the city of the Witch.

An instantly a fine detail caught Hassan's attention - turning, he managed to notice how Mozart grimaced.

"Any problems?" Archer looked at Caster, noting the same as Hassan, but Amadeus only waved off.

"A terrible symphony," the man shook his head, after which, without looking at the Servant, he sighed, "I hear them. Sweeping steps in the rooms, restless sighs, muffled conversations. A Symphony of despair."

"Do you hear them?" Archer bowed his head. "From who exactly?"

"All of them," Caster answered simply. "The whole city."

For a second, Archer fell silent, "And you haven't said this before, why?"

"This will not distract me from the mission," Mozart just nodded, not turning. "This is just a condition that I learned to live with."

For a few seconds, Archer continued to look at Caster, after which, realizing that now he could not do anything with Mozart, he only sighed, "Let's hope you hear the ambush then."

Amadeus did not say anything, only continuing to control the horse.

The Servants went through the streets silently, observing only the rare travelers wandering somewhere, slowly walking down the pavement. Despite the fact that the buildings around were not destroyed, in many places the windows were completely boarded up, making it impossible to look into them, which made the city seem completely empty and abandoned. However, this was for the best - having made his way to the indicated Chevalier church, Mozart stopped his cart, and then rose from his seat. The other Servants followed him, including Hassan, who jumped first, instantly hiding in the building's shadows. It was not required for him now - but old habits die hard.

Fortunately or not, the Chevalier's kept his promise - the church was really empty, and d'Eon himself, already feeling the Servants approaching, was sitting on one of the benches, examining his sword. Nodding to himself, Assassin left the church, after which he stood next to Archer.

In order not to appear before d'Eon, who could detect the Servant - Hassan slapped Archer twice on the shoulder, giving him the sign that the agreement with Chevalier was valid without leaving his concealment,. Archer just nodded at it - "Well, let's move forward."

Mozart and Marie Antoinette also nodded in response, moving forward. Hassan, having waited a few seconds before Archer went inside, entered after him.

"So you still decided to trust my offer," Chevalier nodded to the Servants who appeared, and then sighed, "If my Milady trusted me as much as you..."

None of the Servants reacted to this, so Chevalier himself was forced to only nod to himself, "Yeah, right..."

"In any case," finally rising from the bench, Chevalier walked around it and looked at the Servants who arrived, but his face instantly changed, as soon as he saw the two that were ahead, "My Queen and... Mozart, is it you?"

"Glad to see you again, Chevalier d'Eon!" - without giving Chevalier a chance to speak, Marie jumped forward and hugged her old friend and knight, - "How glad I am to meet you again!"

"My Queen!" - dumbfounded for a second from such a sincere manifestation of emotions, Chevalier nevertheless pulled himself together and hugged the girl in response, - "I never thought that we are destined to meet again. As I see it, you are still fighting for the good of France."

"As are you, my Chevalier!" - the girl smiled, after which, for one last time, squeezed the man in her arms, took a step back, continuing to sparkle with her smile, - "Oh, we need to discuss so much! You have no idea how many more dresses and clothes I have to dress you up in - and shoes! And jewelry - how much more awaits you!"

"Yes, my Queen, of course..." Hassan was able to see that Chevalier, after the wardrobe was mentioned , felt a little awkward. Most likely, despite the joy of the meeting, the prospect of being a mannequin in the service of the French crown still did not suit him, - "But first, a duty. I'm afraid we will not be able to return to this... Noble deed yet."

"Of course, Chevalier," the girl smiled, "But we will definitely do it again!"

"Yeah, I look forward to it." This time his smile came out a little taut.

"At least I'm not the only one who will suffer from it now," Mozart said quietly, after which he extended a hand to Chevalier who shook it, "I am glad to see you in good health, Chevalier."

"Likewise, Amadeus," Chevalier finally shook the man's hand, after which he looked at Archer, who removed his hood, "And this..."

"And this is our friend," Marie-Antoinette smiled, "Get to know this wonderful gentleman, Chevalier!"

"Ah, of course," taking a step, Chevalier held out his hand to Archer, "Chevalier d'Eon."

"Nice to meet you," Archer answered with a handshake, "I saw you in battle."

"Oh, I saw you too," the guy smiled at it, after which the handshake became a little stronger, "It will be nice to fight side by side with you."

"Thank you," answered Archer without a single note of gratitude in his voice, after which he stepped back.

Hassan, who remained invisible, naturally, was ignored by Chevalier.

"So it's three..." Chevalier nodded several times. "In that case, it will be easy to guide you through the corridors without being caught by a guard. Good."

After these words Chevalier headed to the standing pulpit, after moving around it he touched something inside the pulpit, forcing it to slowly move to the side. There was a hole under the stone pedestal.

"Ta-dah!" - the guy smiled, after which he took a step back, continuing to look at the opened hole as if he was proud of it, - "The secret passage from the castle to the church is an ageless classic!"

"Thank you, Chevalier," Marie Antoinette smiled at him, after which Hassan, slipping past Chevalier, instantly ended up below. What awaited him was a long and rather narrow corridor, practically unlit - however, oiled torches were still stored in several stands, so this should not be a problem. Looking around with a quick glance, the man did not find anything suspicious and in one powerful leap appeared again on the surface, after which, rounding the speaking Chevalier and Mozart, as well as Marie Antoinette buzzing around them, he again signaled to Archer. To this Archer only nodded imperceptibly.

"We have to go," Archer said finally, after which Mozart and Chevalier nodded at each other.

"Okay, I'll go ahead," Chevalier nodded. "The tunnels are quite branched. It would be foolish to get lost a step away from the target in the current situation."

Hassan, realizing his mission, again jumped into the hole with the goal of being ahead of Chevalier and preventing him from leaving all the Servants behind.

Instantly after Assassin, the others also went down inside, after which Chevalier reached for one of the torches and, sharply striking them on the wall, achieved a spark that set fire to the torch.

"Welcome," he smiled and moved forward. Hassan moved ahead of Saber, trying to control his steps to determine at what point he decides to turn. Fortunately, Chevalier himself continued to move along the catacombs exclusively forward, without turning at all.

After a dozen minutes on the move, when steps appeared in front of Hassan, Archer said, "I feel a Servant."

"Yes, one," Chevalier said calmly, "an Archer, very dangerous in a long-range battle, but at close range it is much weaker. The main thing is not to let her shoot - in this case, victory over her will be simple."

"You don't give us the names," Archer remarked calmly.

"As you are," Chevalier turned for a second, smiling at the man, and then continued to move forward.

Hassan had to climb the stairs before he finally saw what was ahead. A large, massive locked door studded with iron.

This time, Hassan did not have the opportunity to be ahead of Chevalier, so he was forced, using his inhuman dexterity and strength to jump ,in one leap, onto the nearby torch stand. Fortunately, it was nailed to the wall and withstood his weight without the slightest creak.

"Hm," Chevalier said at that moment, after which he took a step toward the door.

"Is something wrong?" - Archer asked, to which Chevalier shook his head.

"No, but I did not close the door behind me," Chevalier said this, after which he went to the door and pulled it. Fortunately, it was not locked, - "How strange…"

At that moment, Hassan felt a moment of unease.

This time he did not have the opportunity to be ahead of Chevalier, so having waited until the rest of the Servants entered, he made his way last,then bypassed Chevalier again.

"Prison cells," said d'Eon, after which he moved forward between the rows of standing cells. They were all empty but the sour stink of moldy straw and spoiled food instantly struck the Servants' nose.

"Disgusting!" - Marie Antoinette was indignant, - "What a terrible smell!"

"I'm sorry, my Queen," Chevalier bowed. "Plese, bear with it a little bit - It's not for long."

"One can only hope " Antoinette sighed, after which she glanced at Chevalier, who had just nodded to that and moved forward. However, this time the walk was short-lived.

Suddenly, Chevalier froze in the middle of the corridor after only a few steps, because of which Marie Antoinette almost stumbled into his back.

"What happened?" - Marie Antoinette looked anxiously at Chevalier, whose face was concentrated for a few seconds before he cursed.

"Damn it!" - Rider wanted to scold Saber for his words, but he managed to speak out earlier, - "The Witch is already on the way to the city. I thought that she would arrive in two hours!"

Archer only frowned at Chevalier at that. "What does that mean?"

"That means you have to get out of here yourself," Chevalier grimaced. "The Servants of Milady have no excuse to not welcome her appearance."

Archer only frowned at this, and Hassan completely agreed with him. It looked more and more like a trap.

"There is a turn to the right, to the end of the corridor and then to the left," Chevalier grimaced. "He's in the third cage. You won't be immediately felt by the other Servants in the casemates, but you should not try your luck - you need to take him out of here so that he does not die by chance during the battle - after which, I think, the Witch will attack you."

"Yes," Archer only nodded, after which Chevalier put the unnecessary torch into the holder standing nearby and quickly went off into the distance, turning left at the next turn.

Hassan, only having observed how Chevalier moved forward, waited for Archer to go forward and moved himself, holding himself a little ahead. Mozart and Marie Antoinette also followed him.

Almost immediately, they turned a corner to the right, after which they continued to move along a long corridor between the rows of cells.

"Mozart," Archer suddenly said in the middle of the corridor, to which Caster just nodded. "Good."

Hassan did not have time to think about what they had in mind when suddenly Archer struck. In his hands appeared his two faithful blades, seemingly cutting open the empty space behind him.

'Not empty,' Hassan instantly realized at the moment when the air at the site of the blow suddenly sprayed with drops of blood, after which the empty spot disappeared, rippling, turning into a human figure.

"You are the worst Assassin I've ever seen in my life, you know" Archer instantly issued a verdict when the silhouette finally took the form of a man in a cloak with a high standing collar.

"I apologize," the man took a step back and smiled, not paying attention to the long cut that was bleeding on his chest "I suppose the reason was that I was not used to hiding during my killings. Our long separation made you even more beautiful, my Queen. Admit it - did you like how I executed you last time?"

"Charles Henri Sanson," Marie Antoinette's face turned pale at the moment she realized who she was meeting at that moment, "King's executioner and executioner of Kings."

"And Queens," the man smiled, "Well, then, in that case, I suppose our little farce was uncovered."

Hassan knew his mission in this case, so he did not see the further development of events. A moment later, the Assassin rushed forward to the specified cell - and contrary to possible expectations, he indeed found a person in the specified cell. Of course, the cage was locked, but the iron bars were not an obstacle for the Servant, so Hassan's hands touched the door.

A sound-piercing arrow pierced Assassin's lung. To his credit, it was worth saying that avoiding this attack was impossible due to the fact that immediately a dozen arrows pierced the wall behind him. Hassan, attacked in this way, instantly lost his stealth, manifesting itself in reality to the delight of his opponent.

"I admit, I felt stupid shooting an empty corridor," the girl's voice sounded even somewhat cheerful, "However, I am grateful to d'Eon for being able to notice you — otherwise it would be an unpleasant surprise for us all."

"Archer," Hassan said this at the moment when his gaze was still able to identify the attacker.

The girl at the end of the corridor was beautiful - even if her beauty was somewhat unpolished. She was wearing a dress - a sure sign a Servant - and her hair descending to the lower back could not be defined as having some specific color, since part of them was turquoise, part white, and part pinkish - and held in her hands a huge bow larger than herself. However, the most outstanding detail of the girl was also located on her head - but it was not her hair at all.

"Assassin," the girl smiled back, after which she instantly charged several arrows.


Mozart's music instantly took shape in reality, turning into an attack spell. Sanson managed to dodge this attack at the last second - but he paid for it with another deep cut made by Archer.

"Assassin got into battle," Mozart said this instantly when he heard the moment when a girl tens of meters from him pulled a bowstring "The prisoner is also there."

"Damn it," Archer bounced off for a second, letting Sanson take a step forward - receiving a blow from the completely unchildish strong hand of Marie Antoinette, "We have to get the prisoner."

"So it was a trap after all," Mozart said it calmly, "Mari - take the prisoner."

"Amade..." the girl tried to be indignant, but was instantly interrupted.

"We don't have time for bickering," Mozart said as calmly as he could in the current conditions, using one spell after another, but firmly enough to prevent the girl from protesting, "The prisoner is more important."

Marie Antoinette only nodded, and then rushed away.

"My Queen!" - Sanson rushed after her, but was immediately thrown away by Archer.

"Don't worry about her. Worry about us," the man said, delivering the next blow.


Marie rushed forward, ignoring the last attack of her executioner.

The mission turned into chaos in seconds. Indeed - because they brought Hassan, who was in hiding, with them, why couldn't their opponents do the same?

Marie nearly crashed into a wall in a bend to look at a long corridor full of old metal crates. Somewhere nearby the sounds of battle were heard - from two sources. Apparently, Hassan still managed to take the archer somewhere in the next passage - however, Marie could not take the risk and linger even for a second. Now she had to save the captive - after which she would return to the fighters and help them to defeat Charles.

Thin girlish hands grabbed the steel gate, and then with an unbearable sound to the ears tore it off the hinges, throwing it to the side, making the iron rumble on the stone floor - however, the man inside barely reacted to this by moving his head slightly.

Jumping inside, the girl was dumbfounded for a second - what lay in front of her could hardly be called a man. It was just a slaughtered, blood-soaked piece of meat, still barely preserving its human shape - and yet alive. His wheezing whistle of breath still rang out in the room - however, it would have been a miracle if he could ever get back on his feet.

But such little things did not interest the girl - she still had to save him - after which they could cure him in the camp. Sure they can. She was sure of it.

The girl grabbed the man in her arms - a surreal picture in which a girl, just over sixteen, could pick up a huge, muscle-bound man in her arms, after which she threw him on her shoulder and turned to rush off.

Instantly the narrow point of ablade rested against the girl's throat.

"Chevalier..." Marie instantly recognized the traitor, even before she could see him. "You betrayed me."

"I serve France, my Queen," the guy said calmly. "Not you."

The next moment, the blade twitched again. Perhaps if Marie was not holding the captive in her hands, she could have bounced back — however, under the current conditions, at a similar distance, everything that happened was a foregone conclusion.

The girl managed to jerk to the side, but the narrow sword of Chevalier entered the flesh of her defenseless neck as if not encountering any obstacles in the form of the famed strength of the Servants, after which it jerked to the side, cutting half of the girl's neck and carotid artery, due to which blood poured from Marie's wound as an unstoppable flow.

"Damn..." she only managed to utter before the next blow knocked out her breath, forcing her to bend over the ground, gasping for air — however, she never dropped the unconscious man on her shoulders.

The next leg kick knocked the girl on her back, after which a small boot pressed the queen to the ground.

"I am sorry, my Queen," Chevalier bent over Marie Antoinette, and she managed to notice a shadow of regret flashing across his face, "I will finish it all with the next blow. I know that Sanson would have done a more beautiful job - and he really wanted it, he dreamed about your neck - but I'm afraid I cannot fulfill this desire."

After this, the Chevalier raised his sword again, in the manner of the executioner's sword, and Marie Antoinette clearly understood.

She can't be saved. Again.

For a second, the girl closed her eyes before she heard beautiful music. For a second, it seemed to her that she found herself in heaven and heard the voices of angels before the pain in her neck forced the girl to open her eyes in order to look at Chevalier.

"Ah, Mozart," he said without moving, "I must admit that I had already forgotten about you."

"Big mistake," came the cold voice of the girl's faithful friend, after which the blow literally swept Saber away, pressing him deep into a stone wall, which crackled plaintively under the force of the blow.

"Mari!" - the man leaned over the bloodied girl, whose consciousness began to faze from the bleeding, but she nevertheless waved her head and pointed to the prisoner lying nearby.

Mozart just smiled at it, and then pointed a finger at her. For a second, it seemed to the girl that she again heard angelic music - after which her consciousness cleared up and the pain in her neck subsided. Unfortunately, the girl understood that Mozart did not have the ability to cure in the full sense of the word, which meant that this effect was temporary.

The girl rose from her seat, after which she rushed to the prisoner and picked him up again.

"And you are still beautiful, my Queen," said Chevalier, who finally managed to cope with the restrictions imposed on him by Mozart. "Putting the good of the people above your own."

"I'm fighting for France, Chevalier," the girl shot him an angry look, to which Saber only grinned.

"Like all of us, my Queen," grabbing his sword, the man held a feint in his hands, checking his balance, "Like all of us."

Rider did not pay any more attention to this, rushing away - and Chevalier did not follow her. He ran into another foe.

"Amadeus, my old friend," the man smiled, pronouncing Caster's name, "I must confess that I don't remember that you possessed such strength in the past."

"Music gives me strength," Mozart looked at his acquaintance with a challenge.

"Oh yes, the magic of Orpheus," Chevalier shook his head a little to the side, "I forgot... After all, you studied it during your life... It seems because of it you even abandoned your real goal, right?"

To this, Caster only frowned even more, after which he answered with a spell.


"You are weak for a Servant, aren't you," Sanson dodged the next blow, after which he counterattacked. The weapon in his hands did not suit an Assassin, in any way - but suited best for the executioner. The terrible cleaver in his hands could not even be called a sword in the full sense of the word - it was only a huge blade, held on a short handle. a Guillotine blade.

"But I'm not wounded yet," Archer said calmly, after which he continued to attack further, striking blow after blow. Sanson managed to get away from them - but only for now - "Or do you think that an Assassin with the presence concealment of your level is the one to talk about the weakness of the Servants?"

"Oh, are you talking about my little misfortune?" - Sanson only smiled at this, after which the monstrous weapon in his hands flashed, striking a blow at Archer, which moved his two faithful blades to the path of attack. The brute force of the weapon cracked the floor under the man's legs, but the blow did not touch the body, - "In that case... How did you get the idea that I had not completed my task?"

For a second of Archer's consciousness, soft, beautiful music touched him, after which his feelings screamed. Archer only had to turn around, after which his pupil dilated, "Oh fuck..."

The next blow knocked Archer out.


"I admit, you have become stronger," Chevalier praised his opponent. The tabard with three lilies on his chest was destroyed by the very first spell, due to which nothing now covered either his tattered shirt or the body hiding under it, so it was now possible to determine with certainty whether Chevalier was a man or a woman. However, such details did not interest Mozart at the moment - "I am sure that if we had fought at the moment of our life, you would not have survived even ten seconds."

Mozart looked many times worse than Chevalier. His clothes were torn and cut, and his body was covered with numerous bruises, some completely superficial, like scratches - and somewhere they continued to bleed mercilessly - but he only smiled, - "I thank you for the compliment - and for the fact that we only encountered in battle now."

"Of course," Chevalier smiled. "Otherwise, the battle would have ended too simply."

Mozart barely managed to make out the next movement of the enemy. A magical shield that appeared for a second delayed the blow of Chevalier, however, the sword was still able to break through the hastily created spell, slashing the man on the shoulder, causing a few drops of blood to fall to the ground.

"Tell me, Chevalier," Mozart created another spell, after which he jumped back at the same time as a burst of music rumbled like the clang of plates and Chevalier's position exploded in fire, "The Witch didn't come to this castle, did she?"

"It doesn't matter what I'll say if you have already learned not to trust my word, does it?" Chevalier smiled, appearing almost unscathed from the fiery flare - only his hair fell off at the edges. "Moreover, even if she was not here, she will definitely arrive soon after noticing your attack. Ten or fifteen minutes, I think."

"Bad," Caster said simply, after which he attacked again.

"Hope to run away now?" - Saber evaded the next spell, which took the form of several stakes rushing forward, and then closed the distance between him and the mage, flashing a blade in his hands.

"Yes," Caster did not deny the obvious, dodging the blow that this time passed right next to his head, cutting off a lock of hair.

"Then you need to hurry," Chevalier nodded a couple of times, after which he dodged the next spell with a pirouette.

"I understand," Mozart nodded, after which he froze for a second. Chevalier, waiting for the new trick, stopped, after which, realizing what was happening, he rushed forward - but it was already too late - "Requiem For Death!"

For a second, it seemed as if the whole world became deaf and all the sounds were gone. Chevalier managed to take another step and bring the sword for a decisive blow in an absolutely quiet world before falling to the ground.

Something alien and unnatural sounded in his ears. Sounds that cut reality itself were disgusting to all of his nature and at the same time as beautiful as the feeling of flying for a suicider, observing the approach of the earth, may be. Something seemed to break his mind into a thousand pieces of broken glass, and then let them through his veins, forcing his mind to give rise to impossible thoughts and unknowable forms that destroyed his whole idea of the existing.

It seemed as if his consciousness was in this agony forever, from the creation of the universe to its very end, but at some point the unnatural music ceased to sound in his ears and Chevalier was able to open his mind, wiping his mouth from the things that his body vomited out at the sound of violence against reality.

Mozart was nowhere to be seen.


Marie Antoinette continued to run through the castle, not paying any attention to the panicking servants and the guards trying to pounce on her, feeling her strength gradually leave. Mozart's spell has already weakened, because of which the girl felt herself weaken with every step. She could barely make out the road, crashing into the walls - often with the goal of making the shortest and most direct way out.

"Just not now..." - the girl continued to run forward, feeling her legs becoming heave with every meter - "Not now... Not now..."

Marie Antoinette felt that she was close to the exit, but it seemed as if her body had stopped listening to her completely and every step now were an incredible burden for the girl - "Almost... Almost..."

The girl crashed once more into agroup of guards, but instantly her gaze was nevertheless rewarded with the view of the street that had opened before her, sparkling behind the door, "I made it! I made it!"

Just a dozen adult men tried to hold her back - and under normal conditions, the girl could have thrown them away with one move of her hand, but now, when she even had difficulty blinking, the iron armor and steel grip became an insurmountable obstacle for her - "Almost... So close..."

The girl tried to jerk, forcing several guards to recoil from unprecedented strength, but she could not rise again - "So close..."

"Get away!" - One spell was enough for tens of people to immediately recoil from Marie Antoinette in horror - "Run away!"

After that, Rider felt her body being lifted into the arms of the man and pressed to his chest.

"Archer, take the prisoner!" - came a familiar voice from the man.

"Amadeus…" - the girl smiled through the upcoming dream, - "You're still here…"

"Shut up," came the man's voice. Overwhelmed and nervous, the girl nevertheless distinguished anxiety and care in it, - "Be quiet... Now they're getting you…"

"It's alright," the girl smiled. "It's not scary to die for France..."

To this, Caster did not answer. The girl only heard his intermittent breathing and felt a sway from the man's run. Somewhere around her the wyverns were wailing and howling all over the city, soldiers fled - and ordinary people too.

Suddenly, she heard a sharp wheeze, after which Caster, who had run before, froze in a half-step. The girl felt a few drops fall on her face.

"Amadeus?" - the girl was still able to open her eyes for a second, looking at Mozart's face. He looked terrible - there was still a deep wound on his cheek that continued to bleed, and his hair randomly lay on his head, clinging with sweat and blood - but the man only smiled at the girl.

"Everything is alright," the man put the girl almost calmly onto a drawer next to him, and then turned around. "Wait a second, I will be here in a second."

The girl was only able to see how the man turned away from her, noticing the plumage of a long arrow that entered Caster's back, after which a drop of blood slid down her forehead.

"Amadeus..." the girl held out her hand, however, the man had already disappeared from her field of vision, "Good... Luck..."

Then she closed her eyes.


Ainz expected the need for emergency teleportation, but at the moment he appeared next to Archer, he realized that he did not think about the level of urgency.

At the moment when he reappeared in reality, a half-ruined city appeared before his eyes, not reminiscent of the deserted Vichy it was an hour ago, with broken roofs and houses torn apart stone by stone. On the streets lay corpses of wyverns and people who had been tormented by creatures that had torn off their leash, fires blazed everywhere and battles rages on, where it was not clear who was fighting and with whom. Ainz had never seen riots in his life, but listening to the stories from Punnito Mine, he imagined something completely different. What he saw now did not look like a revolution - it was like a gigantic fight between gangs, enough of which he had seen in his life.

Archer looked bad - his clothes and cloak were torn and numerous wounds covered his body - however, it was still incomparably better than the prisoner's condition, which looked like a bleeding piece of meat.

"Where are the others?" - Instantly asked the magician, to which Archer just waved his hand to the side and fell to his knees, trying to catch his breath.

Ainz did not like the current situation, but he still waited a few seconds before repeating the question, "Where is everyone?"

"There," Archer sighed again, "The battle with them dragged on. They should be here in a minute and also…"

"The Witch is on the dragon," Ainz finished Archer's sentence, glancing up at the sky, where the Servants were felt.

The Witch was practically invisible from such a distance, but Ainz could easily make out the dragon itself.

The monster was huge. So huge that Ainz could not even correctly estimate its size - it looked more like a huge transport plane than a dragon - it was not less than a hundred meters. Hundreds of meters of muscles and hide, covered with black scales of armor and huge horns, growing along the whole body of the creature. On the chest of the huge black dragon was a drawing resembling a huge white cross, glowing with pure white light, like a star.

"Judging by the look, he is not lower than the eightieth level..." - Ainz noticed this offhandedly, and then blinked - "But it can be stronger. The battle with him is impossible for now."

At that very moment, he saw Mozart fly out of one of the nearby buildings. He looked even more miserable than Archer - his body was pierced by arrows in several places - and he flew out not with his magic, but breaking through a wall, because of which, flying a dozen meters, he hit the pavement and remained in place.

"You are not so strong, Caster," the newly appeared girl, holding a bow in her hands, immediately attracted Ainz's attention — but only because in her hair he could see two big cat ears, "Although your Phantasm... It's still ringing in my ears... But Chevalier called you the most dangerous of all. Apparently, the bastard do make mistakes sometimes."

"Napalm," Ainz used the spell, that was already proven as useful, after which the girl, caught in fire, made a cry and instantly bounced back.

"Mozart!" - Ainz managed to move to the mage before he rose from the ground and waved.

"I'm fine," the numerous wounds continued to bleed, but the man just brushed a lock of hair from his forehead and looked at Ainz, "Where is Mari?!"

"I don't know," Ainz answered honestly, after which he looked at the sky, where the dragon turned from a small silhouette into a huge monster, already approaching a rising wyverns cloud above the city, "We need to leave."

"Where is Mari?!" - Mozart bursted with emotions, after which he looked at Archer. He, as if suppressing an urge to vomit, rose from his seat.

"Hassan should have taken her," Archer said this instantly, after which he glanced at the dragon. "There is no time, we should leave!"

"Hell, Mari!" - Mozart turned to the side to see the familiar silhouette.

"I have a low Presence Concealment, but it was enough as you can see," Sanson, who appeared on the roof of a neighboring building, smiled, "La Mort Espoir!"

The power of the Noble Phantasm of the executioner was not directed at Caster or Archer. No, the Assassin was waiting for his moment. His goal was the Master - Ainz himself.

It was as if darkness and evil itself were gathering together around the figure of the magician, forcing him to become the executed man watching the lowering blade of the guillotine - after which a blade arose over him. It was a blade sharpened to the highest point of sharpness, not designed for battle or murder. Only for execution.

In an instant, the blade of the guillotine fell, making a final verdict - after which the cold metal touched the necromancer's neck.

And scattered with many iron snowflakes.

At the moment when the blade touched the body of the magician - as if something had gone wrong. A second of confrontation turned into the sound of rattles and crackling - after which the steel in contact with the flesh crumbled powerlessly.

"Impossible..." Sanson paused for a second, watching what had happened, before Ainz reacted to it.

"Napalm," he used a spell, forcing Assassin to immediately retreat, enveloped in fire, "Hmm, I wonder what was his ability?"

"This is La Mort, the embodiment of the guillotine of the French Revolution," Caster answered him, lifting himself a little from his seat, "A tool that punishes convicts and criminals, an instrument for eradicating evil."

"Oh" - Ainz suddenly realized that he had walked on thin ice - 'That is, this is an ability that acts against the owners of negative karma ?! It's strange, why didn't it affect me then? I have the lowest karma possible for a player...'

Ainz was right, as Mozart also. Unfortunately, none of them possessed the complete information necessary for a correct understanding of what happened.

However, such things were of little interest to both at the moment, so the magician only looked away to look at the streets of the city.

"Damn him!" - Archer's vision allowed him to look at the approaching figure first, - "That is Hassan!"

Hassan was not far behind in the number of injuries from both Servants - his cloak was lost and the bandages from his hand were removed, which meant that he was at least ready to use his Phantasm - however, instead, Assassin's huge Cursed Hand held something.

"Mari!" - Mozart instantly recognized the figure in the hands of Assassin, but his joy was short-lived.

"God, you are persistent!" - Chevalier's voice was full of almost mocking joy, - "Great, great! It is the saviors of France that we need!"

Chevalier ran along the roofs of the houses, periodically making jumps that were impossible to a human, trying to catch up with Hassan. In other cases, this would be almost impossible, but Hassan was seriously injured and carried Marie Antoinette in his hands, because of which his speed of movement was drastically reduced, so that Saber gradually caught up with him. Hassan understood this himself, because of which he chose the solution to the problem. If he got rid of Marie Antoinette now, then he could have escaped from the blow, but he preferred another option.

Stopping for a second, Hassan determined the direction - after which he sent the girl on a flight with one movement of his hand. Hassan had a fairly significant throwing ability, which is why Mozart instantly caught the injured Rider, but this also meant that Hassan stopped.

"And here I am!" - Chevalier was on the road behind Hassan at the same second, breaking his shoulder with a sword. The Assassin swayed a little ,in pain, but tried to strike back.

"We should leave!" - Archer said this again at the moment when he saw how a huge dragon began to take air into his lungs for fiery breathing.

Ainz doubted for a second, but Chevalier cleared his doubts.

"Oh no, not so easy!" - he smiled, after which the blade in his hands lit up. Ainz remembered his Noble Phantasm, but he didn't use the same trick this time.

"Fleur De Lis," Chevalier smiled, "Gorgeous Splendor of Blooming Lilies!"

Instantly, the world froze, as if in order to admire the blossoming flower.

Instantly, Chevalier's body seemed to flare up with light that illuminates the world around him. The radiance spread in all directions and all the Servants froze. It seemed as if the radiance of an angel had opened to them - the endless beauty of Chevalier made them all forget about everything that happened to them - and what would happen.

All but Ainz, who was completely immune to all kinds of charm.

"Hassan!" - he managed to shout, but Assassin could not answer him. The dragon in the sky, stopping to gain air, exhaled at the moment when his cross on his chest lit up especially brightly. Ainz just sighed.

"Sorry, Hassan," the magician closed his eyes. "Teleportation."

At that moment, Ainz and the rest of the Servants left the stage. Hassan was left alone.

Chevalier interrupted the action of his Phantasm a second later, after which he jumped back. It only took a second for the Assassin to recover.

However, after a second, a stream of dragonfire struck the city, setting fire and destroying an entire block to the ground.

Assassin, Hassan of the Cursed Arm, died.


Denial of Life - This skill is a skill that springs from and denotes the nature of the undead. As such,this skill is responsible for the entire existence of the undead as a single creature and for all abilities and features that it possesses based on its species, such as living using negative energy, a sense to detect life, perfect vision in the dark, protection from dark magic, curses and other abilities that makes the undead themselves as a being.
 
Chapter 23: Trap
Chapter 23: Trap

"Say it again - who are you?" - it seemed as if John was absolutely calm, but anyone could feel the barely restrained anger in his voice, which made the huge man in front of him shiver under the sheer pressure of John's voice.

"Henry, son of a blacksmith..." he repeated once more, so John, hearing the same response as the few times before could not restrain himself and hit the table next to him, making the table to creak plaintively.

"Devil!" - he said, continuing to beat on the oak boards, - "Devil! Devil! Devil!"

"John!"" - Gilles de Rais shouted at him, after which John, having brought his hand up for the next blow, stopped.

"Leave," he dismissed the big guy in front of him to jump out of the tent instantly, after which he became silent for a second.

"Chevalier deceived us all," Ainz sighed and looked at his hands.

"HELL YES! He created a trap in which we didn't gain anything - no, even worse- we lost one of your champions in it, one of the few champions capable of fighting the Witch!" - it seemed as if finally saying it out loud infuriated John more, - "He created a trap - and goddamn Hell - this one turned out to be successful!"

"John, please, calm down," Gilles said calmly, but instead of stopping, the man in front of him only froze, and then sighed.

"I'll go get some air," John took a few quick steps, and then left the commander's tent.

"Don't be angry with John," Gilles said, after which he sighed and reached for a glass of wine, "The attack of the Witch happened... Not as successfully as we had hoped."

"Yes, I know," Ainz sighed, "A thousand dead and as many wounded."

"Yes," Gilles sighed once more and took a generous sip of wine. "We did not plan that other Servants would participate in the attack."

"I know " Ainz sighed. After the failed rescue attempt, he would not move directly to the camp - he was afraid of a chase from the Witch, and especially from her dragon. So he teleported randomly several times, after which he hid, then watched the city with his magic. Unfortunately, his observation of the city did not bring him any special information, except for the fact that, having been brutalized by the operation that had already been considered unsuccessful by the Witch and the unrest that had begun, she just ordered her dragon, due to which it, without any distinction between who were allies and who were enemies, simply burned the whole city, along with all the guards, wyverns and civilians. At the same time, due to observing the city and fearing the possibility of a chase, Ainz was unable to protect the French army camp at the moment its attack by the Witch's Servants, because of that the battle took place without him - all that he knew was exclusively from the words of Cu Chulainn, Medusa and Serenity. They told him a very sad - but probably logical story.

The Witch really was pissed off by the failure of her ambush, as Chevalier had said - however, the attack on the French army did not happen with the goal of destruction - but of intimidation. In addition to the army itself, many undead and wyverns, two Servants also took part in the attack - and in addition to the already familiar, to him, Carmilla a certain mage entered the battle too. They did not pursue the destruction of the Servants remaining in the camp — all they wanted was to bring the Witch's wrath to the soldiers. And they did it.

The original plan was that when any enemy would try to attack the army, Jeanne would appear with the other Servants and then shield the soldiers from the assault - however, as it turned out, even a few minutes of delay in responding to the attack would bring a large cost to the army.

While Carmilla did not possess the abilities capable of a large scale massacre - the second Servant, the mage,was more than capable.

"Caster was not identified?" - Ainz said, not expecting an answer, and Gilles shook his head, after which he poured himself a second glass of wine.

The mage was capable of some kind of summoning - and the monsters he summoned did a good job of emptying the camp. Jeanne arrived immediately at the moment when the Witch's punitive operation attacked the camp, but by the time she was able to strike, hundreds of people had already died. The Servants of the Witch, having achieved their desired result, did not even continue to attack, only exchanged blows several times with the Servants of Ainz - and the allies he have- and then fled, leaving their monsters to be torn to pieces by the French army and Servants.

On one hand, such a result could even be considered a success- the soldiers of France accepted their inevitable death, seeing the monsters, appearing from the dark, led by the chosen champions of the Witch, which meant that the intervention of Jeanne - the real Jeanne, the Saint - looked like a miracle to them. Salvation. This was enough to make them believe both in the authenticity of Jeanne and in the possibility of surviving this battle - however, not enough to achieve anything more.

After Vichy was burned down by the Witch and then the French army lost a thousand people in one attack - this meant only one thing.

"We can't wait for reinforcements anymore," Ainz nodded with clarity of the situation, to which Gilles, having drained the second glass, only nodded frowningly.

"In that case," Gilles, without ceremony, poured himself a third one, "What is our plan?"

Ainz slowly began to get used to the fact that for some reason all the people around him were asking for plans from him, so he thought.

"When will the Witch attack again?" - the mage looked at Gilles, to which he only shrugged.

"Who knows?" - he took a sip - "Maybe in ten minutes, maybe in ten days. If you want my opinion - the Witch will try to recuperate, calculate her losses and gains, after which she will gather a new army and then strike again. Approximately? Three to four days. At best, a week."

"In other words, we have virtually no time," Ainz nodded unhappily. If they could save Etienne, seed unrest in the camp of the Witch and inspire the soldiers to battle - they could afford to wait another week or two, but in the current situation, each subsequent attack by the Witch will only take more and more lives. In other words, they had to act.

"In that case," Ainz sighed. "Raise the army. We must storm Orleans."

"Yes," Gilles sighed at that, "But at best, it will take a day — an army of this size is extremely slow. It will take time to raise it and bring it to the Lair of the Witch."

"I know," Ainz nodded. At least he hoped so. "I know of another place where the Witch's Servants could be."

"Hmm?" - Gilles raised an eyebrow.

"Lyon," Ainz nodded to himself, "Lyon. We will infiltrate Lyon, after which we will return to the army with what we managed to find there -and then, attack the Witch."

"Hm, there it is," Gilles drained his glass, "The final battle that we have been waiting for."

"Yes," Ainz looked at the Gilles. "The time has come."

"Good," Gilles nodded. "Tomorrow we will have to organize the soldiers. I think that your Servants will be able to put the wounded back on their feet overnight, so tomorrow morning we will begin the offensive."

"Yes," Ainz sighed. "And I have one more thing left to do."


Marie Antoinette continued to look towards her tent. Reflexively she rubbed her neck, where not so long ago there was a mortal wound, after which she looked up to the ceiling.

"So Ainz is also a wonderful potion maker," the girl sighed, "Unlike me."

The girl turned to the side of the entrance when she heard the sounds of plate boots rattling on the ground, but instead of the guard expected there, she saw only Arthuria entering the tent.

"Ah, King Arthur," the girl tried to smile, but instead she was only able to create a faint grin, "Come on in, but I don't think I can entertain you with a conversation."

"I know," Arthuria took a step inside, after which, instead of sitting in a chair nearby, she took a few steps, and Marie Antoinette felt her bed creak under the weight of the girl, "But I came anyway."

"Perhaps, it was in vain," Marie Antoinette had no strength for the usual idle talk, so she only turned away from the knight and stared to the side.

There was silence for several seconds, during which thoughts continued to spin in Rider's mind.

"He knew what he was doing," a voice suddenly came from Arthuria, it was so unexpected that Marie twitched in response.

"What?" She asked, believing that she had incorrectly heard what was said, but Arthuria only nodded.

"Hassan," Saber explained. "He knew what he was doing."

For a few seconds, Marie Antoinette only silently blinked her eyes, and then abruptly turned away.

"I don't want to talk about it," the girl said, after which she stared at the wall again.

"But you should," Arthuria said calmly.

There was silence for a second before Saber heard a polite and calm, yet incredibly strained voice, - "I do not want to talk about it."

"Do you think that it is better to think about your deathwish alone?" - Arthuria said it calmly, after which she glanced at Marie Antoinette, who jerked as if from a whiplash.

"I don't want to discuss this with anyone," she said again, this time with pressure, not holding in her voice the politeness that had been before, "Neither with Mozart, nor with Ainz, much less with you."

"Who else then should you discuss this with?" - Arthuria tilted her head to the side, after which, without waiting for an answer, she continued, - "Hassan himself spoke about the need for this mission - and he was the one who spoke out about the possibility of sacrificing himself…"

"Enough!" - at this moment, Marie Antoinette's hand crashed into Arthuria, but it didn't even make her sway, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

Each word of the girl was accompanied by a blow, delivered to Saber, but instead of forcing her to retreat, the swordswoman only continued silently to endure the attacks.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" - Marie Antoinette continued to shout this despite the fact that Arthuria was already silent for a long time,- "JUST SHUT UP!"

After delivering the last blow, the girl felt her energy leaving her body and simply crawled onto her bed.

Arthuria continued to stare silently at the girl, who fell powerlessly onto her bed.

"You care too much about the loss of one person for someone who called herself aQueen," Arthuria mercilessly sealed, "A True King is obliged..."

"SHUT UP WITH YOUR TRUE KING!" - Marie Antoinette rose from her seat, looking at Arturia angrily, eyes to eyes, - "DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A QUEEN?!"

For a second, Marie Antoinette broke off and went limp, - "So many people died because of me... So many people…"

Arthuria continued only to silently look at Rider, lost in thought.

"My husband, Louis..." The girl sighed. "He was executed before me. They executed him as well as me. He was not to blame for anything - he was kind, honest and open-minded, he indeed was. He did not even participate in any scandals - it was because of me. My decisions and my actions incurred the anger of the people on him... And he was executed."

"He was executed," Marie Antoinette grinned unhappily, "Then they executed me — and my son... I have no anger at those who executed me — but I cannot understand why did they die? Why did my son die?"

Arthuria only continued silently looking at the girl, who sighed and closed her eyes.

" Why are you silent?" - She grinned sadly. - "I know why he died. He died because he was my son - he also died because of me…"

"If it weren't for me, they would still be alive," Marie-Antoinette sighed, "Lots... Lots of people would still be alive. If not for the revolution that started because of me, they would all be alive. My actions, my attempts led to a revolution - and after me, after my husband and son, there were others. Danton, Robespierre, Lavoisier... Tell me, King of Britain - if there was an opportunity - would you not dare to return to the past? To prevent all the bloodshed?"

Arthuria was silent for a few seconds before she spoke, "No."

"What?" - For a second, Marie Antoinette doubted the girl's words.

"No," she repeated once more, "My goal, my desire is to allow Britain to live forever. Let her survive in the past and future, let her survive everything that was before and will be next. It's my goal."

"But the people?.."- as if confused, Marie Antoinette asked, - "Innocent people…"

"Let it be so," Arthuria snapped coldly. "So be it. If my country needs my head, so be it. If they need human blood - let it be. If I have to sacrifice everything I have - my knights and subjects - so be it. This is the way of the King."

For a few seconds, Marie Antoinette was silent.

"You're a monster," she said.

"I am the King of Britain," the knight answered calmly, "And the lowest of the servants of my country. My goal is the prosperity of Britain. And if necessary, I will sacrifice everything for this."

Rider could not understand what was said, just continuing to silently look at Saber.

"We are Servants," Arthuria said, glancing at Marie Antoinette, "Not Heroes and not Kings. We are Servants. We are just soldiers fighting for an ephemeral purpose outside of our time, outside of our legend and outside of our country. We fight and we die. Hassan was the one who proposed this plan - he was the first, who offered to sacrifice himself. He realized that he was less important- and therefore sacrificed himself. He did not die because of you - he had a choice. He could sacrifice himself or you. And he made the right decision - a decision that I would have made - or you - if you were in his place. He judged his strength and his need - and he made a decision. He sacrificed himself for you."

For a second, Arthuria fell silent, after which Marie Antoinette heard the sound of metal. Turning around, she was ready to be hit - but instead, she felt someone ruffled her hair.

The girl looked up to see how Arthuria, removing her plate glove, continued to stroke Rider's head.

"You are ready to sacrifice everything - even yourself - for what you think is right," Arthuria once again ran her hand through Marie's hair, and then put the glove back in place. "In that case, not allowing others to do the same will be too hypocritical."

After that, Saber suddenly fell silent for a second again and sighed, changing her face a little, - "Come on. Our mission is not over yet - apparently, the Master plans to leave in the night."


Mashu could even say that she liked the abilities of senpai - his ability to teleport allowed him to save a lot of time on moving, because of which all the time that had passed in the singularity fit in just one week. Although the sheer amount of what had happened to the girl, seemed as if more than one month had passed in the Singularity itself - it was definitely much more eventful than her previous life in Chaldea, exclusively filled by research rooms and medical rooms...

"We are in Lyon," senpai's voice sounded next to her and the girl turned to Ainz. Although, perhaps, it was wrong for her to call someone like Ainz, senpai - he was her Master and was clearly much stronger and wiser, which is why putting them together in a group was even somewhat offensive to Ainz. Of course, Ainz himself did not speak out about this - however, Mashu suspected that it was unpleasant for him to hear such form of address. On the other hand, he himself allowed her to call him that...

"Or what remains of it," Archer said calmly, forcing Mashu to be distracted from her thoughts and look at the territory surrounding her.

The city around her had little resemblance to a city - these were just ruins. Numerous destroyed buildings, no longer burning, only some were still smoldering, creating an oppressive atmosphere in the slowly approaching night,causing one only want to hide in a corner and fall asleep, covered with a blanket. No, Mashu was not afraid of the dark - however, the atmosphere of the ruined city is extremely depressing, as if the enemy was still waiting for them somewhere around the corner.

The girl shrugged and looked at Ainz.

"Archer," he immediately turned to the main information gatherer, "Can you see anything?"

"In such darkness, my vision is not very useful," Archer just shook his head t, "Perhaps I can see something if I come closer — or if there is at least a little light."

"Hm," Senpai thought about this, and then sighed. "I can use several spells, but their range will not be enough for your vision. Other ways... it's impossible for now."

"It's a pity," Archer stated, after which he sighed, "Then I can do nothing."

"This is bad," Ainz sighed. He possessed the passive ability of all undead, night vision, but without Archer's abilities, it was now useless,- "Then all that remains for us is to do is to wait. At dawn, try again - if, in that case too, you cannot find anyone - we will have to return to the army empty-handed."

"Good," Archer nodded, realizing his mission. "In that case now..."

"Now we're setting up a camp," Ainz sighed and looked at Mashu. She, realizing that she was the only one who still needed sleep, tried to brush it off.

"It's all right, we can continue the search," she tried to say, but Ainz himself only responded.

"Night searches are too dangerous," the magician sighed. "In addition, to carry out searches at night we would have to split up, which would make us a target for attack, while the Servants, although there is no need for sleep, could benefit from it .

"Maybe then it's worth returning to the camp?" - Mozart gave a sound idea, but Ainz just shook his head at it again.

"Our goal is to find the reason for what exactly in Lyon is giving a strong signature as soon as possible, and then retreat - in this case, we need to wait for the earliest possible time and return to the army. In this case, it would be best to be here at the moment when it just begins to get brighter, so that Archer could find our goal."

"Archer, hmm," Amadeus only looked at Archer, and then backed away, "Good."

Mashu looked for a second at the silent Marie Antoinette and Arthuria, but it did not look like they were about to say something, so the girl backed away, feeling as if she had said something stupid. Of course, she acted as if she were the only Servant for whose sake everything was done...

'What nonsense…' - Mashu shook her head - 'Why did I think that it was because of me…'

'Perhaps because you would like it to be true?' Came the voice of her subconscious, which sounded for some reason like the voice of Serenity in her mind, to which Mashu just shook her head.

"Mashu?" - Ainz suddenly turned to the girl, startling her - "Is something wrong?"

"No, no, it's all right!" She shook her head, after which she turned her gaze to the camp that appeared out of nowhere, "And this..."

"A spell," Ainz explained simply, then turned away from the girl.

'And yet…' - the voice of Serenity was heard in the girl's head, but she only waved it away and slowly moved to the bedroom intended for her.


Archer was the first to be chosen as a sentinel, who would later be replaced by Mozart, then Ainz - after which, at the first dawn hours, Archer would replace them again in order to determine whether his vision could help him in these conditions. So now Archer was supposed to be the first as nightwatch.

Archer once again walked around the camp, watching the already asleep Servants, after which he focused his eyes on Ainz's tent. He did not sleep, but also preferred to rest for the night. Archer could not have guessed why he had done this, but he suspected that Ainz would not answer him honestly anyway, so Archer ignored the wizard's actions and returned to his watch.

Without any problem, he jumped onto a nearby tree, then leaned against a trunk and looked at the church standing in the distance on the hill of the destroyed city.

He felt the Servant.

The signature was weak - as weak as that of Jeanne - but he clearly felt that the Servant was in the church. He felt it.

And did not say anything.

Archer did not want to talk about it. Should not have.

For a second, Archer's mind noticed something odd in his reasoning, after which Archer froze and strained a little, shook his head. Why shouldn't he do this? Why didn't he want to do this?

Archer closed his eyes, continuing to think. He did not tell Ainz about the Servant because ... Because...

Quiet music and a melodious voice touched Archer's mind again, cooling his seething consciousness. He did not say anything because... Because...

Gradually, the voice, touching only his mind, grew louder - instead of a quiet, barely legible singing, it was now slowly, gently whispering in his ear.

Oh yes, that's why he didn't tell Ainz about the Servant because...

The singing became louder and louder, because of which a quiet, barely perceptible whisper on the verge of consciousness slowly turned into a voice. A voice that spoke to him.

He should not have told Ainz about it because he should have...

The voice that spoke suddenly fell silent - after which a trembling passed through all the bones in his body at the moment when an order was heard in his head.

He should not have told Ainz about the Servant he had found because he had to kill Mozart.

Archer nodded to himself, after which he quietly jumped from a tree, preventing a single sheet from moving and suddenly froze.

Is he? Kill Mozart? Why?!

The voice in his head fell silent for a second, then twisted into a grin and echoed in his soul with an indescribable rattle. Archer clutched at his head, trying to calm his mind, after which, when the voice in his head again subsided - he sighed.

He must kill Mozart because he must do it. No other reason or justification is required for this. He just has to do it.

The quiet singing audible only to him continued to sound in Archer's head, which he slowly took one step forward - then the second - and the third. He moved silently - despite the fact that he was not an Assassin - for his long life as a killer and Conter-Guardian, he learned to fight discreetly, leaving no traces and never showing himself to the enemy.

Slowly he walked through the camp, hearing how a voice on the verge of his consciousness, turned into quiet music, whispered to him.

The first tent is Arthuria's. The second - in it is Marie Antoinette. The third is what he needs.

Archer took an inaudible step, followed by another and another. To admit, it would be difficult for him to make the other Servants stay out of the camp at night, but Ainz's offer greatly helped him in this regard.

'Stop!' Archer froze. 'Make him stay out of the camp at night?'

The voice in his head fell silent, after which his soft whisper turned into melodious singing again - and Archer, feeling that the incorrectness of his actions evaporated completely, moved forward.

He threw back one side of the tent's door, and then looked inside. Mozart slept on the bed in his usual clothes, breathing slowly. Archer nodded - good. It will be done quickly.

Archer slowly took a step, allowing his familiar swords to materialize in his hands without a single sound, after which he took another step towards Caster, which did not even budge when Archer approached. Good.

Archer took the last step, being next to the bed of the mage, after which his right hand slowly brought the blade to Mozart's throat. One hit - and it will be done.

Archer pressed the mage's throat with a blade, and then froze. But he did not freeze in doubt - a quiet voice swept away all his doubts. He froze because he could not move.

"It's very naive and presumptuous," Mozart didn't even open his eyes, while uttering this phrase, "I said that I hear everything. And the thundering of your boots, too."

After that, Caster's fist crashed into Archer's face, throwing him to the side - however, his paralysis did not completely disappear, due to which the body of the Servant flying off to the side froze in the same position in which it fell to the ground.

"And I also could hear your battle in Vichy," Mozart said it calmly, rising from his seat, "Like your loss."

The voice in Archer's head seemed to stop hiding - and exploded a howl of a thousand agonizing screams. Archer, unable to tolerate such a howl, twitched, but Mozart's spell held him securely.

"Oh, I heard how another one intervened in your battle," Mozart sighed and extended a hand to Archer's head. Archer instantly twitched, trying not to let Caster touch his forehead, but Mozart grabbed Archer with both hands, - "Another Assassin - and his disgusting singing."

The voice in Archer's head agonized, however, whatever Mozart tried to do, he certainly did successfully, which is why the pain in Archer's head gradually began to subside, and the squeal became quieter and quieter.

"That voice," Mozart grimaced. "Three notes missed — such a terrible singing."

Suddenly, after these words, Archer's mind froze, after which the obsession subsided. Damn it, then, in Vichy!

"Hush," Mozart stopped Archer for a second when he tried to move. "I know. A third man intervened in your battle and took you under his control. And he - and his fake singing - is still here."

Archer felt Mozart stepping back from him, after which the spell that bound him before disappeared. Amadeus chuckled.

"Fake singing, hmm..." came a voice - another voice. Archer could instantly recognize this voice - it was he who sounded in his head all this time - "That's a bold statement, human."

"I'm just a human, of course," Mozart took a step back and smiled, "But I am still Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, the Child of God. And all music obeys me."

The figure that appeared on the threshold of the tent was human, without a doubt. He was a beautiful young man - he was thin, handsome and even to some extent feminine. His feminine features, long hair, gathered in a single tail, and thin hands, along with thin-rimmed glasses on his face, made him graceful - and even to some extent divine. If not for the mask that hid half of his face.

Part of his face was hidden behind a disgusting mask - it seemed as if it was made of leather and iron and did not compliment Assassin's features, but instead emphasize its ugliness, imitating a mutilated skull.

"What can a person like you know about art?!" - his face that looked at Mozart was transformed into a grimace of contempt and anger, disfiguring his face.

"A lot," Mozart smiled. "For example, about you, Phantom of the Opera."

For a second, all the speakers froze, after which the Phantom broke into a smile.

"Ah, it means that I was still revealed - and my little prank with the puppet failed," he smiled. "Good. In that case, let it be so."

Archer, who finally came to his senses, felt his blades in his hands again, continuing to watch the Phantom that only smiled.

"Well, in that case," the Phantom spread his arms to the sides, as if announcing, and spoke, "Christine, Christine!"

The Phantom's words turned into form a second later, after which Mozart felt as if he was again in the middle of a stage - in the middle of the opera. However, this time he was not in the role of a musician,which is familiar to him - it seemed as though he was participating in the performance itself. And the role that was assigned to him was by no means the main character.

"Singing, haha?" - the speaker's voice was distorted, as if a ghost was speaking through a malfunctioning microphone, because of which the echoes of his words sounded throughout the camp, "So I will let you all enjoy my voice, Surely My Love Song Shall Resound Even Through Hell!"

It was not like Mozart's Noble Phantasm - his ability embodied Music That Can't Be Written. It was an insidious Phantasm, the power of which could not be underestimated - a terrifying choir of impossible voices and nonexistent sounds, violence against reality. In contrast, the ability of the Phantom of the Opera was not so alien in itself - although this did not mean that his Phantasm was in any way weaker. No, because the Noble Phantasm of the Phantom of the Opera embodies all the victims who died at the hands of the Phantom of the Opera - but, of course, not those that were created in the opera in the form of faceless characters. It was the embodiment of all the deceased singers and musicians - their unsung songs and unwritten melodies, sounds from the other world, from hell itself - carrying the horror and chaos of an unfinished play of life.

Anyone who heard this song would die - bursting into the consciousness of unfortunate victims, this music destroyed the very part of life, penetrating into the mind of the target, destroying their soul and body. Servants throughout the camp, hearing this music, had to instantly fall in agony, feeling the blood flow from all the pores of their body, bringing them suffering.

However, the Phantom, instead of lowering his face to see the affected Servants, suddenly felt a prick of pain. Looking down, he could only find a blade stuck between his ribs, and Archer, holding the blade.

"Ha?" He unexpectedly blinked, after which he stared at Mozart with an incomprehensible look, which only smiled at him.

"I'm just a simple musician," he smiled, "But still I am God's Child. Music - even the one like yours - obeys me. All I had to do was drown it out to prevent anyone from hearing these sounds. No more and no less."

"Ha?" The ghost looked at him blankly, after which he took a step back, allowing the two blades that remained in Archer's hands to slip out of his body, "Oh, in that case..."

"Hold Species," Ainz's spell bound the Assassin instantly, causing him to freeze, "Good."

Ainz's spell possessed catastrophic power - it was able to interrupt the movement of all muscles in the body of a Servant - including the respiratory ones. Prior to this, using aspell to bound the Servants, Ainz did not take this opportunity. Now? Perhaps the time has come for that.

The Phantom of the Opera froze - and suddenly realized that he was suffocating.

The nature of a Servant is amazing - the weapons of modern times were not able to inflict any damage, neither a blade, a firearm, nor even a strategic weapon. However, at the same time, such natural and ordinary things as strangulation or falling from a height were still dangerous for them. And therefore, now the Phantom of the Opera froze, feeling, that now he was choking.

Ainz took a step toward the Assassin, carefully examining the him.

Phantom of the Opera, hmm... It seems he heard about this one before - hmm, didn't Touch Me talked about him when he could get into some elite theater - or something like that?

The Phantom froze. How is this even possible? Together with Chevalier, they organized such a wonderful ambush - to use Sanson as a false Assassin, after which, when he is left alone - to strike and gain control over the mind of a Servant. Then - it was all so simple then... All of them could be cut one at a time, but Chevalier insisted that the captured puppet destroyed Mozart first - and the damned Mozart discovered his actions...

'Damn Chevalier!' - The Phantom of the Opera cursed to himself - 'He set me up!'

Ainz sighed and then put his hand forward, preparing to destroy the enemy Servant.

'Damn Chevalier! Damn Chevalier!' - the Phantom continued to think to himself. He was suffocating - and his death was as if inevitable. But not now.

The Phantom froze.

But not now.

The Phantom of the Opera was disgusting - his body and face were terrible, disfigured, disgusting and unnatural. This is how his image entered human consciousness - because part of his face was hidden behind an ugly mask - because, having exposed only a part of his ugliness to the public, he could hide his much more ugly features from the eyes of the onlookers.

But now he needed this ugliness.

Suddenly Ainz froze when something in the form of the Phantom subtly changed. It was as if some small but significant detail had caught his attention - while he knew that the victim of the spell was supposed to die from strangulation - something seemed to have triggered the instinct of the old veteran in him - and the mage rushed back.

"Get back!" He shouted, forcing Mozart and Archer to jump away from the already considered dead enemy, so the other Servants, that only now arrived, froze.

"Ah, you are not bad," the Phantom's voice suddenly sounded, but instead of the usual melodic, even feminine voice, it was a low, vibrating voice at the very limit of audibility "Very good."

The Phantom of the Opera was still paralyzed, so his face did not move - however, a voice still came from him, which caused Ainz to freeze. The light swaying of clothes on the body of the Assassin attracted his attention - and the rich experience in the destruction of the most disgusting and unnatural forms of life, coupled with the instinct of an old player, made him stop speculating.

"Magic arrow!" - he used the weakest spell available to him, which made the Phantom to sway when a clot of pure magic crashed into his body - however, the Assassin only continued to stand. Ainz achieved his goal - causing the cloth on Assassin's chest to burst, allowing Ainz to see the unnatural.

"Good," the huge, unnatural mouth on Assassin's chest blurred into a smile, "Good."

"Damn it!" - Ainz knew what such transformations usually meant. They meant the second phase of the battle with the Boss - so the magician instantly canceled his spell, after which he prepared for battle. The binding magic in this case was useless - no, even worse, it allowed the Servants to prepare a new attack.

However, the Assassin only swayed at the moment when the magician's binding ceased to act on him, after which he turned to him, "Thank you."

After that, the Assassin moved- but not forward, as one might expect - but somewhere to the side. For a second, Ainz was surprised - before he realized. The ghost was rushing toward Archer.

Archer managed to react to the Assassin's movement - he moved both his blades to take the blow - however, the second hand of the Phantom of the Opera darted to his face. For a second, something else distorted the Phantom's appearance - after which, instead of a thin, almost female hand, a clawed palm crashed into Archer's chest, turning into five blades where the fingers should have been.

"Napalm," Ainz reacted instantly, after which Assassin was caught on fire, but it didn't affect him much. Jumping back, he retreated to the far corner of the tent, after which, not paying any attention to the next spell, he threw himself through a cloth dissected by sharp claws. Archer, staggering, fell to the ground, coughing up blood.

"Don't chase him!" - Ainz gave the order to Marie Antoinette, who was already preparing for the chase,- "He is luring us into a trap."

"Archer," he turned to the Servant, after which he took a step towards him. Archer just waved his hand, spitting the accumulated blood in his mouth.

"I'm fine," Archer completely ignored the blood running from deep wounds and closed his eyes, "There, on the hill, in the church... Another Servant."

After that, Archer tried to breathe, but could only cough up blood yet again.

"Archer," Ainz just sighed at it, after which a bottle of red liquid, familiar to those present, appeared in his hand, "Drink it..."

"Regeneration will cope with this," Archer tried to brush aside what was offered to him, after which he opened his eyes, looking at the mage, "I don't need your medicine."

"Maybe," Ainz agreed, "But I still will offer them - and insist on it."

Archer fell silent, after which a sharp cough caused him to spit out bloody foam.

"Don't try to play friendly with me," Archer spat out viscous blood and again looked at the necromancer, "Necromancer."

"Sure thing," Ainz sighed, and then carried the bottles of blood-red liquid away from Archer. Archer sighed a little calmer, after which a few drops sharply hit him.

"What?!" He opened his eyes indignantly, seeing Ainz shaking the bottle, the contents of which he threw out onto the Servant. Archer was indignant for a second, but the magician only sighed.

"Still, they act like that," he said, after which he looked at Archer. Archer nevertheless looked at Ainz, but after a few pats on his body he discovered that even though the blood and torn clothes did not disappear - his wounds were healed, so while spitting blood again - he did not find more in his mouth.

Somewhat indignant, Archer looked at Ainz, to which he only sighed and nodded.

"I'll stay on guard," he said, "But you still need to rest ... Archer, you especially."

The Servant was about to argue, but looking at the magician, he sighed and closed his eyes.

"I can see in the dark," the magician explained, "And I don't need to sleep, so I can do my job. If the Servant is still here, then we have nowhere to rush to now."

After that, the Servants, nodding several times, slowly moved to their tents.


Denial of Life: EX (B)

Since this skill is the skill responsible for the existence of the undead as a creature, it was required to be of extremely high rank - however, with one important refinement, the Overlord, the highest rank of mages among the undead, is obliged to have an even higher rank. Despite the fact that, in essence, this skill is responsible for various abilities, such as protection against black magic or vision in the dark, the fact that this ability is responsible for possessing negative energy is also important. While all undead exist through negative energy, the Elder Liches - and their higher brethren, the Overlords - are able to seep negative energy through their touch or even presence. In other words, at this moment, since Ainz is completely suppressing his ability and this feature - in connection with his new body - this skill is only responsible for the ability to exist as undead and for passive features - protection and vulnerabilities. At the same time, if Ainz did not suppress this skill, his presence would exude such an amount of negative energy that even a single touch would be enough to turn a living person into a moderately strong undead, and his ability could turn even thrice consecrated silver into rotten trash in seconds. Even a Servant could not easily tolerate just one touch.

Even his presence would create certain problems, since dead corpses would rise up as brainless zombies within ten seconds in his presence - and living people would most likely die at the same time.
 
Chapter 24: Sacrifice
Chapter 24: Sacrifice

"It's finally dawn," Ainz noticed the moment when the first ray of the Sun touched his eyes. - "Good".

Having watched over the Servant camp and the remnants of the city that was once called Lyon all night, Ainz never saw a single suspicious movement around. No, perhaps it would be more correct to say that Ainz considered every gust of wind suspicious - however, nothing around him looked more suspicious than the whole current situation - therefore he did not react to the sometimes rustling trees or distant ruins, which is the only thing that remained in the place of the once bustling city, from the influx of fresh air. At least he did not attack them in panic.

Slowly, Ainz went down from his flight, canceling the flight spell near the ground, after which he landed on his feet and stretched, massaging his stiff limbs several times. Of course, he was undead, so something like fatigue was impossible for him - even such a meaningless and joyless exercise as constantly inspecting the surroundings were not so bad for him without the ability to feel tired or any strong emotions. He could do this for whole days - however, at the same time, he still did not like to do such things, so when he went down to the ground, Ainz gladly stretched a couple of times, after which he headed towards the Servants.

In fact, Ainz did not even expect an attack on the camp that night - he still believed in some rationality from his opponents, so he knew that they would not risk organizing an attack immediately after a failed assassination attempt - however, at the same time, Ainz was not so stupid as to leave the camp without any protection.

"Archer," he said from the doorway, after which the Servant, who was previously sleeping — or was just resting — instantly opened his eyes, after which he got up from the bed created by magic.

In fact, Ainz could have created a much more impressive mansion - however, almost all magic of a similar level was either designed for personal use - or it was extremely noticeable, like a mansion that appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the field - anything else was of a higher rank than Ainz could currently use.

Archer, rising from his seat, only nodded to the magician, and then walked past him. Ainz nodded at this.

Other Servants followed - Ainz chose to wake each one personally.

Memories of how his boss sometimes woke up workers by shouting at the night shift made Ainz grimace unpleasantly. He definitely did not want to do such a thing in this world.

Mozart, Marie Antoinette, Arthuria - lastly Mashu. Including Archer and Ainz - that was all the people in the small company. Of course, there were still Servants with the army - however, with the exception of them, at the moment the entire company of the magician only consisted of six people.

'Hm, six is quite a lot,' the necromancer recalled his gaming adventures. Six people were usually enough for a battle with a normal boss - if he correctly recalled, when they captured Nazarick the battle with Asura also took only six of them...

The thought about Ainz's old comrades made him breathe with nostalgic warmth for a second, after which the magician took a step into the tent to Shielder.

Unlike all the other Servants, who were just waiting for a call to awake and continued to lie in their clothes, sometimes even armor and next to their weapons - Mashu was the only one who accepted the offer of sleep in the proper way - the girl was sweatily dreaming, and her armor and shield stood to one side, leaning against a lonely table. A bed, a small stool that served as a bedside table - on which Mashu's glasses rested - and a lonely table with two chairs - that's all the decoration of the created camp.

"Many of my colleagues lived like that..." - Ainz stopped for a second, then looked around - "All that is missing is a chair with a virtual reality helmet and a connector - and the similarities will be complete..."

The thought that he forced his Servants - in fact, his subordinates - to live like the subordinates of his past boss, made Ainz sigh with embarrassment. Fortunately, the suppression of emotions cut off such a manifestation of emotions before his embarrassment could turn into shame - and Ainz took a step towards Mashu's bed.

From the approach of a man, the girl wrinkled her nose a little and turned around, but did not wake up, because of which Ainz was forced to call her, - "Mashu."

The girl replied to this with even greater grumbling, after which the blanket with which she covered herself slipped a little, exposing the girl's shoulders. Ainz automatically looked at the girl, after which he suddenly discovered a new fact for himself.

"She is quite voluptuous..." - Ainz blinked several times, and then turned away - "No, no, I'm not looking there!"

The embarrassment was instantly suppressed, after which the magician was able to breathe and speak again, a little more insistently, - "Mashu…"

The girl turned around a bit more before turning to the magician and slowly opening her eyes.

"Huh?" - the girl slowly opened her eyes, after which she yawned and stretched, - "Senpai... What is it?"

Ainz watched this for a few seconds.

'The children are really wonderful,' he remembered about Yamaiko, after which he extended his hand to the girl. She did not have time to do anything, as the magician's hand was on her head - after which, with a slight movement, Ainz ruffled Mashu's hair.

"Get up," he smiled. "We have to go."

"Huh?" - the girl seemed to just realize that Ainz patted her on the head, and then nodded, - "Yes, of course…"

Ainz got out of bed and managed to turn around when Mashu suddenly realized that all this time she was lying covered with only one blanket.

"Senpai, don't look!" - the girl shouted, but Ainz has already taken a step away from her tent, leaving the girl to lie alone.

'Maybe he should have stayed?' - Serenity's voice, full of malice, sounded in Mashu's head to which Mashu herself just waved it off.

Ainz, coming out of the tent, was greeted by all the other Servants, who looked at him expectantly.

"As Archer said last night," after that the magician looked at Archer that nodded to him, and continued, "In this city, in the church on the hill, there is a Servant. The signature is weak, but it is still a chance that we cannot miss."

The Servants nodded at this, after which Ainz heard the tent's door flapping at the moment Mashu jumped out of it - already ready and carrying her huge shield in her hands.

"Good," Ainz canceled the spell, after which the entire camp instantly disappeared, as if it had never been here, "We are going there now - as a single group. Each one remains in the field of view of at least two others, no one moves away more than fifteen meters."

The Servants only nodded at this - only Arthuria objected at Ainz at that moment - "Is this really necessary?"

"I prefer not to take any chances," the sorcerer sighed, then slowly moved forward, allowing the Servants to follow him.

Not that the mage himself was afraid of an unexpected ambush - however, he really preferred not to risk it. The reason why he did not go after the Servant at night, when it was discovered , was precisely this fact. Being in enemy territory - and after a nightly assassination attempt, Ainz could not see Lyon differently - it was always full of risks. If the enemy had placed traps with teleportation circles - or have several powerful assasins - the advance at night would be suicidal for them - so Ainz chose to use all the advantages available to him. Even considering that he spent the whole night observing Lyon, it did not give him the necessary confidence - therefore, the magician was moving slowly, waiting for a possible ambush at every turn. Fortunately, it was not there. Unfortunately - this only stirred Ainz's paranoia more.

The path through the ruins of the city was passed silently - because of which what in reality would only take a few tens of minutes stretched out to hours of painful expectations, but in the end Ainz was still able to climb the steps to look at the lonely church on the hill.

The church clearly saw better days - its walls were charred in many places, and a small church square was burned to the ground. Fragments of stone lay on the stone road - part from the church itself and part from the destroyed gravestones that were scattered along the way to the chapel.

Ainz just nodded at this, and then moved forward.

The church was supposed to have a grand entrance, similar to a castle gate, but one of the doors was completely absent, instead it was lying near the entrance, and the second was kept attached only on one loop, squinting. As he approached, Ainz tried to open the door, which it could not tolerate, it tore itself off the hinges and fall on the rocky road with a screech.

This at least provoked a reaction - a groan came from inside the church, after which Ainz heard a voice.

"Well, this means I won't be able to run further..." - the speaker's voice was deep enough, but the fatigue and doom in his voice hid all the positive things it could have, "Good... Then come on — I want to take a couple more with me!"

"We did not come here to fight," Ainz was the first to step on the floor of the church, trying to not step on the piled benches and their scraps lying around, "We are the one currently fighting with the Witch, and we came here in the hope that we will find an ally."

"Witch?" - the voice suddenly fell silent, - "Well, then you found an ally."

"But..." - Ainz heard a slow, irregular step, so even by that sound alone it was possible to determine that the speaker was moving with difficulty, limping every step - after which a man appeared from behind one of the columns, "I don't think I can offer a lot of help right now…"

The men who appeared was quite tall- however, his muscularity and huge mane of silver-gray hair made him appear much larger in the eyes of the observer. The large steel pads on his shoulders, sharply knocking out against his black clothes and a huge two-handed sword in his hands made his appearance truly huge.

On the man's chest was a huge cross of white light that pulsed measuredly to the beat of his heartbeat.

'Hmmm, I already saw this cross…' - Ainz remembered - 'On the chest of the Witch's dragon…'

"And who dared to fight the Witch?" - the man smiled, after which he took another lame step to the magician.

"Ainz," the magician decided not to get into the explanation, after which he looked around the man. He looked perfectly healthy, albeit a little tired - but he barely walked, limping on one leg, - "What is the matter with you?"

"Curse," the man briefly explained, after which he looked at the Servants accompanying Ainz, "And they are... Servants, I suppose ?"

"Yes," Ainz nodded. "We were called here to fight the Witch — and at this moment the army had already begun moving towards Orleans for the final battle."

"So you can do well without me," the man sighed. "I would have helped you in the battle - with joy... However, I'm afraid I'm not able to fight right now."

"Curse, huh?" - Ainz thought for a second. His inventory was full of all kinds of things created to remove curses, but most of them were disposable items - moreover, they acted on curses of different strengths. He would not want to spend one of the rare things on removing a weak curse — however, at the same time, if he had spent one of the weaker ones on removing the curse — and then curse would become stronger — he would still be wasting the item...

"Jeanne can remove the curse from you," Ainz suddenly was distracted by Mashu's voice and looked at the girl. She caught his eye, instantly embarrassed, - "At least she said so…"

"Jeanne?" - the man looked at the girl.

"Jeanne d'Arc," Ainz looked at the guy, waiting for his reaction, but to this man only nodded.

"Yes, that would be good..." the man smiled. "In that case, of course, I will go with you."

"Good." Ainz nodded.

"Oh yes," the guy said, and then nodded. "I apologize for not introducing myself before. Siegfried."

'Ha?' - Ainz froze, and then said out loud, "Dragon Slayer Siegfried?"

"I see you have heard about me," the man nodded. "It's a loud title, but I'm really the same Siegfried."

'Wow, there is Siegfried here!' - Ainz was surprised - 'Siegfried was strong in the game - when Ulbert was killing heroes he said that the battle with Siegfried was one of the most difficult - the only thing worse was only the battle with Merlin and that girl... Scratch? Scutach? Something like that…"

"Good," Ainz answered after a second of thought, "in that case ..."

"Master," Archer suddenly said, "A Servant is moving toward here."

"Assassin?" - Ainz turned to Archer, but he only shook his head.

"He's not hiding at all, he is moving on a horse," Archer nodded "In a hurry."

"Good." Ainz nodded, then looked at Siegfried. He just shook his head, saying that he did not know anything about it - "Then we will wait for him."

Quickly enough, Ainz noticed a spot that appeared in the distance - the rider was moving at a speed clearly exceeding the speed that a normal horse could move, but at the same time he was not hiding at all - and was not like anyone that Ainz had met before, so he decided to still meet with them.

A few minutes later the man appeared in front of Ainz - easily climbing the stairs to the church, the man jumped off his horse, patting it a little, then turned to the Servants.

Ainz carefully looked at the one that appeared - he was slightly shorter than Siegfried and did not have the same impressive hair - but still he was tall and his long brown hair could probably reach his lower back. The person who appeared was dressed in armor - bronze-colored armor that turned into a snow-white cloak, and a strange-shaped blade rested on his belt - as if the blade had not tapered to the end, but was completely straight - and even seemed to be completely blunted.

"A man in red," he instantly recognized Archer, after which he turned his eyes to Marie Antoinette and Mozart, "A girl and a magician. Yes, it seems I arrived to the right people."

To this Ainz took a step forward, - "Greetings. My name is Ainz."

"I apologize for being rude, but I prefer not to give my name now," the man looked at the magician. "I'm afraid we don't have time for courtesy. It's getting closer, the…"

"Dragon," Archer finished his thought, then turned to Ainz.

"It seems that after Vichy she's not leaving us now," Ainz sighed.

"Vichy," the man who appeared, immediately noticed the word, "So it was you in Vichy?"

"Not really me, but it's true," Ainz sighed. Vichy passed for him... Very unpleasantly - so he did not really want to remember it.

"So you are the ones who fought the Witch?" - the man looked at Ainz, to which he nodded, - "In that case…"

The man bowed a little, his right hand in his heart, "In that case... I would like to join your battle."

"Oh?" - Ainz looked at the Servant - "Really?"

"Yes," he nodded again. After Chevalier's actions, confidence about such contracts was undermined, but Ainz had no choice but to nod, "Good... In that case, we are backing off."

"What?" - unexpectedly asked Marie Antoinette, - "But what about the dragon?!"

"That is precisely why we are retreating," said Ainz nodding to his own words, "To battle with it now is something I would like to avoid by all means."

"But what about the army?" - The Rider was indignant, - "If the Witch directs the dragon after us, then the whole army will be in jeopardy."

"Yes," Ainz was forced to admit the truthfulness of the words of the girl, "However, in that case, we can join our forces to fight the dragon, collecting the full number of Servants. To battle with the dragon now is impossible."

"If a dragon possess such a danger - then it alone can destroy the army!" - Marie Antoinette took a step forward, - "We can not let it do this!"

"We have no other choice," at that moment Ainz heard the dragon roar and was able to discern a moving figure in the clouds. This time, the dragon also carried a Servant on it - however, Ainz could not distinguish who it was from that distance.

"Yes," said Arthuria unexpectedly, forcing everyone else to look at her.

"What?" - said Ainz, glancing at the girl.

"The dragon can be distracted," the girl said it calmly, "if we leave a Servant or two to fight him, he will not be able to attack the army after the battle."

"It's a suicidal mission," Ainz shook his head.

"Yes," Arthuria nodded. "Therefore..."

"I'm volunteering!" - Marie Antoinette took a step forward, distracting Ainz from his thoughts.

"Mari..." said Mozart, trying to calm the girl down, but suddenly someone objected to him - no one other than Arthuria herself.

"No, let it be so," Arthuria nodded. "In that case... I will stay too."

Ainz looked at the girl, who only nodded calmly, "We need at least two Servants with strong Phantasms to injure the dragon. Me and Rider are the best candidates for this."

Ainz paused for a second, then slowly nodded. "This is a suicidal mission, no retreat and last-time save. Are you sure you agree to this?"

As if confirming the words of the magician, the dragon in the sky roared loudly, but Marie Antoinette and Arthuria only nodded.

"Good," Ainz sighed. "Good, then..."

The remaining Servants took a step towards Ainz, who cast a last look at the two girls and nodded.

"Teleportation," he used a spell and instantly carried the Servants. Arthuria and Marie Antoinette were left alone.


Marie Antoinette watched the dragon approach slowly, gradually beginning to distinguish the outline of the Servant standing on its back.

"That is Sanson," she finally said, managing to discern the man in front.

"I understand," Arthuria nodded, after which she silently stared at the sky, looking at the approaching dragon. Marie Antoinette also looked up, continuing to stare into the sky.

For a few seconds they both spent it in silence, watching the outlines of the monster gradually grow, which had already gone down to the city and now continued to fly low, almost scratching the skeletons of the destroyed buildings with its belly.

"Why?" - unexpectedly, Arthuria was distracted by her voice. Turning, she saw Rider staring at her intently. "Why did you decide to stay?"

"Because I needed to," Arthuria answered calmly and turned around, considering the dialogue completed, however, Marie Antoinette did not back down.

"And what about the conversation about the True King?" - the girl turned around. - "You spoke about the need for sacrifices and that the True King should retreat from the battle, which he cannot win?"

Rider fell silent for a second, after which Arthuria shook her head a little.

"The King must retreat from the battle when the battle is pointless - even if he can fight," the girl sighed, and then looked up to the dragon, "And the King must fight when the battle is necessary - even if he cannot win."

Silence reigned for a second, after which Marie Antoinette looked up.

"Thank you," she smiled.

"It is not because of you," Arthuria answered coldly and turned away, "I was the only candidate with sufficient strength and a powerful Noble Phantasm that could support you - while you remained the least efficient member of the squad. That's all."

"Yes, I know," Marie-Antoinette nodded and smiled, "But anyway, thanks."

For a second Arthuria fell silent, after which she nodded, "Of course."

After another second, the roar of the beast again broke the silence, after which the dragon wrapped a hook around two Servants, allowing the executioner to jump from his back.

"Well, well, well..." - Sanson smiled only upon landing on the ground, "Your Majesty — we meet again... It seems that this is really destiny - I will become your executioner yet again."

"Charles Henri Sanson," Marie-Antoinette nodded briefly to the Servant, "I would like to say that I am glad to see you again, but I cannot lie straight to your face."

"Well, what are you, Your Majesty," Sanson smiled and took a step forward, "It always seemed to me that I brought you the calmest and quickest death. Believe me, I didn't prepare for any execution as much as for yours - I personally sharpened the guillotine to make your last moments as quick and painless as possible. Admit it, you liked this method of execution."

"Sanson," Marie Antoinette sighed and shook her head, after which the executioner finally turned his gaze to Arthuria.

"Ah, Your Majesty - as I look, you brought a retinue with you," Sanson smiled at Arthuria, and then nodded respectfully to her, "It seems that this time I will also have to execute someone other than you... Perhaps this is what people call fate."

"I'm not here for you," Arthuria looked at the executioner coldly, after which she turned her gaze to the dragon, who landed nearby, "But for his sake."

"Oh, for the sake of Fafnir?" - the guy smiled, - "Of course, how could I forget - such a sight can really attract the attention of the people."

"Fafnir?" - Arthuria turned her gaze to Sanson - "The legendary dragon of Scandinavia?"

"My lady, all dragons are legendary in one way or another," the executioner smiled at her, "And all of them, one way or another, come from different places — however, yes, you are right. This is really the legendary Fafnir himself - the power of my Master allows such things."

"Good," Arthuria nodded. "In that case, I will be proud that I was able to kill another legendary dragon."

"Lady," Sanson smiled at these words, "I have no doubt in your strength — just as I do not doubt in the strength of Fafnir. You will always be given the chance to battle - however, the outcome of this battle will not be the one you may desire."

"In this case - I will still take the chance," Arthuria nodded at this, after which a moment later she disappeared in a quick, continuous movement, to which the dragon only growled.

"My Queen," Sanson smiled at Marie Antoinette, "So we are left alone again. Tell me, are you ready for your execution? I am ready to wait."

"Sanson, my friend," the girl sighed, then smiled, "Why wait? I am quite ready."

"I'm glad, My Queen," the Assassin bowed to the girl for the last time, and then rushed forward.


Ainz was in the middle of the army camp at a time when the last troops had already gathered their belongings and began to line up in marching order. The messengers rushed through the camp, not noticing the magician, so he sighed, and then went straight to the commander's tent, where he could see Gilles shouting something to his squire, after which he looked at Ainz. He smiled for a second, seeing there was a replenishment in the form of Servants, after which, not finding two familiar faces, he looked at Ainz - "And the other two…"

To this Ainz himself only sighed, - "They will not come."

To this, Gilles only sighed sadly, after which he nodded, "I understand."

"We need Jeanne," Ainz looked at Siegfried. "There is a curse that must be lifted."

"Good, of course," Gilles nodded. "The army is almost ready. If you need Jeanne, then most likely she is with John, at the head of the army."

"Good." Ainz nodded at this, then turned to the Servants.

"I will accompany Siegfried," Mashu instantly volunteered, after which she went to the imposing guy, who only smiled guiltily and leaned on the girl's shoulder, after which he slowly limped forward.

The man who did not give his name also nodded at this. "I will join them if Jeanne needs my help. Unfortunately or not, but I was also called as a Saint by humans."

To this the man nodded and also went after Mashu.

"Then I will go to inform the other Servants," Archer nodded, after which he instantly disappeared from the tent.

Gilles, taking a look at this, also took a step, - "It is necessary to send an army - otherwise these guys will ruin everything again."

Ainz sighed at this, and then turned, expecting to see behind him only an empty tent, but unexpectedly found a Servant there.

"Ah, Mozart," Ainz completely forgot about him in this hectic, after which, realizing that Caster was lost in his thoughts, he called him, "Mozart..."

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry," he shook his head instantly, as if dropping unnecessary thoughts, and then turned to Ainz, instantly smiling, "Is something necessary?"

Ainz was silent for a few seconds, after which he sighed, "If you need..."

"No, no, nothing," he immediately waved his hands, as if nothing had happened and he remained all the same Mozart, as always, "It's okay, I understand."

"And yet," Ainz sighed, after which he looked at Caster. He, seeing this look, only waved his hands.

"Losing her the second time, after we have become Servants, is not so painful," the man smiled. "I will survive."

Ainz was silent for a few seconds.

If he ended up here with his friends - after which there was a need to leave one of them - could he react calmly to this?

No.

The answer came to Ainz's mind instantly.

No.

Never.

He would have put the army at risk, he would have gone into a hopeless battle, he would have stayed with them - whatever may happen, but he would never have abandoned his Ainz Ooal Gown.

"Mozart," Ainz sighed once more, realizing this simple truth, "I... No, I cannot say that I can feel what you feel - but I understand you."

"Come on," Mozart once waved languidly and sighed, "I understand the need for this, and I understand the necessity of such an act. Mari... Mari always sacrificed herself for the sake of others - perhaps this was the reason why she attracted people so much."

Ainz froze for a second, not knowing what he had to say, after which Mozart made his way to the chair next to him and sat down on it. Ainz was always bad with comforting people, so he could not say anything in the current situation - however, once Bukubukuchagama told him that if a person is sad, the worst thing that can be done in this case is to remain silent.

"Did you love her?" - Ainz sighed at this, but Mozart, who first prepared to sharply negatively wave his head, stopped, then slowly turned his head away.

"What difference does it make..." Mozart sighed and smiled, "Our lives cannot be changed other than what has already taken shape - so what use is this question?"

Ainz sighed at this, after which he himself moved to the nearest chair and sat down in it.

"Maybe..." unexpectedly, Caster continued, after which he looked up somewhere, "Perhaps if she were not the Queen of France - and I was not God's Child... If she baked pastries - and I worked as a minstrel at the square... Who knows?"

Ainz did not know what he had to say to this, so he asked what seemed appropriate to him - "Is this all for the sake of France?"

"Of course," Mozart smiled, "Mari always did everything for France..."

He leaned back in his chair, and then closed his eyes.

"You know..." he suddenly said after a few seconds of silence, "Once upon a time I saw her for the first time... After a performance. I was just a child - and so was she... We first met - and I saw her. She was in a blue dress - one of those that is adorned with fresh flowers - I was in a small frock coat made specially for me by my parents... I then saw her for the first time... I was awestruck - and I promised to marry her when she grows up…"

"Stupid, isn't it?" - Mozart smiled and opened his eyes, looking at Ainz, - "Children are pure - they do not know about human stupidities - about people and classes, about kings and queens, about duty and responsibilities... Of course, this did not happen - this could not happen."

Ainя looked at Mozart, but he only waved his hands.

"You don't have to feel sorry for me," the man smiled. "She married a good man. She loved him and loved her children more than her life. At that time, I was carried away by music... Orpheus' magic - to be more precise. I was absorbed in it as much as a person could be absorbed by his calling - to the point of madness. I have fallen in love with the miracle of music... Then I found a good girl - and I loved her, I dedicated poetry and sonnets to her that no one else saw - she witnessed the birth of my greatest masterpieces and supported me in my most difficult moments... I had six children - believe me, I would not have had six children with a girl whom I would not love. We lived in perfect harmony - and Mari lived with her beloved husband."

After that, Mozart fell silent, allowing Ainz to slowly breathe.

"But you did not forget her," he said in complete silence, to which Mozart only slowly closed his eyes.

"No..." he finally said, "I haven't forgotten."


"And you have become stronger, My Queen!" - Sanson smiled, jumping away from the next blow.

"I am always ready to try for the sake of France, my dear executioner!" - the girl smiled, gracefully moving away from the next blow of the huge blade in the hands of Sanson.

Somewhere in the distance a mournful roar of a dragon was heard, after which the roar deafened both Servants for a second.

"Oh, and she is strong!" - Assassin looked back a second to see the discarded dragon - and Arthuria, although she was wounded, was far from losing.

"Of course," Marie Antoinette rushed forward, but her next blow was laid aside, "She is stronger than me — you — and, perhaps, your dragon."

"Stronger than Fafnir?" - smiled Sanson, delivering the next blow, - "This is an extremely flattering praise received from the Queen herself!"

"You flatter me, Sanson," the girl smiled, after which she dealt a particularly strong blow, sending Assassin on a flight. The same one, finding himself in flight, after a second later landed on his feet, blocking the next blow of Marie Antoinette.

"My queen, not a drop of lies," the executioner smiled, "Only sincere admiration."

"In that case, Sanson," the girl suddenly jumped back, "Would you like to admire me even more?"

"Oh, My Queen," Sanson smiled as the girl got ready, "So you are ready to end our fight? Ready for the climax? Ready for execution?"

"Of course, my dear executioner," the girl smiled for the last time, bringing a smile to Sanson's lips.

"So let it be so," Sanson nodded. "I will do everything quickly."

"I have no doubt about that," the girl finally said, after which she extended her hand forward.

A moment later, Sanson realized that he was icebound.

'No, this is not ice,' Assassin corrected himself immediately, realizing what was slowly absorbing him 'It's crystal.'

Crystal grew under his feet, gradually fettering his movements.

"And let France be forever!" - the girl smiled, after which the crystal instantly formed a shape under her feet.

It was a beautiful horse - as if made of pure morning light - it easily took a step forward, after which Marie Antoinette was at one moment on the back of the stallion.

Having torn from his seat, the horse immediately rushed forward, after which Marie Antoinette, sitting on his back, smiled.

"Guillotine!.." she said with a smile, after which the crystal, which had previously swallowed the man's legs, accelerated instantly, turning Assassin into a cocoon.

The embodiment of the beauty of Versailles... The embodiment of the luxury of the royal court... The embodiment of the Champs Elysees and the views of Montmartre...

The embodiment of France - the shining pearl of Europe - and the embodiment of the soul of Marie Antoinette...

Beautiful France of her dreams.

Her view of the beauty of her life - and the future of generations that will come after her.

That is what Her Noble Phantasm embodied. The pure beauty - and the pure soul of the girl, that when even stepping on the scaffold - apologized for stepping on the shoe of her executioner.

This power could afflict people like Excalibur - and possessed the power of all France behind her.

But…

"La Mort," the executioner said at the moment when the crystal touched his hands, "Espoir..."

The horse of Marie Antoinette took another step forward, and then suddenly froze. A second later, the decapitated body of Marie Antoinette fell from it's back.

It was all over instantly. The executioner's blade hit the girl, having executed it's target.

La Mort Espoir really was the epitome of the guillotine of the French Revolution, the executioner's guillotine and the power of the rebellion. And therefore, it was not a tool that destroyed evil.

Perhaps if Sanson did not have to personally execute Marie Antoinette, Louis Sixteenth, Charlotte Corde - and many other people who found themselves on the chopping block not as criminals, but as political opponents of the revolution - then Sanson's Phantasm could really destroy evil. However, instead, the guillotine in the hands of the executioner found its other purpose.

The destruction of those who should be destroyed.

It was still a tool for executing criminals, but now it has been tarnished by another purpose to be a judge over people.

It was a tool of execution, which primary goal was not to destroy evil - but those who were recognized as evil. Those who were ready to die for their truth.

In other words, it was an attack that did not base its strength on how evil a person is, but on how much he himself recognized himself as evil. In other words, in order to cause damage, such an attack first had to touch the victim's consciousness.

Ainz was protected from such things.

In other words, if you consider this as numbers, then Ainz's karma could increase the damage done to him by a similar action a thousand times. However, Ainz's mind defense meant that the base damage from a similar attack that couldn't touch his mind at all was zero. And no matter how many times the zero was increased, it will always remain zero. Therefore, such a Phantasm was absolutely safe for Ainz.

However, for Marie Antoinette, even if she was pure - having acknowledged and accepted her death - she was doomed from the very beginning.

"I thought you changed, My Queen," the man smiled, misunderstanding his failed Phantasm when trying to attack Ainz, "When I met that magician, my Phantasm did not work on him... He found the strength to resist fate - no, he destroyed my guillotine. He rejected his fate and execution - he rejected his own death - and looking at you I thought that you would find the strength in yourself to resist execution…"

"But, I'm sorry, My Queen," the crystal still holding Sanson began to crumble slowly, "Now it's finally over."

"Not really," he heard a voice nearby, after which he turned to the side. Hell, the second girl he completely forgot about!

"Excalibur!.."- on the body of Arthuria there were many wounds - her armor was pierced and crushed, and her face was cut many times - but she was alive. And the black blade in her hands, shining with an ominous light, reminded Sanson of his own weapons.

About the executioner's guillotine.

"Fafnir!" - he instantly shouted to the dragon that immediately rushed to the defense, but Arthuria only smiled.

"It will not help," she said with a grin, after which the blade, still burning with black light in her hands, striked, "Morgan!"

A second later, a stream of darkness rushed forward.


It took only a few tens of seconds before the dust from the blow of Arthuria began to slowly subside.

Sanson felt pain in his whole body - a blow deprived him of the entire right half of his body... However, he was still alive.

The howl of the dragon caught the attention of Assassin - and he turned his eyes to Fafnir, who still managed to cover part of Sanson's body - but he paid for it himself.

It was as if someone had torn off the dragon's scales with its flesh, after which he frantically wounded him with blades until his body became a bleeding piece of meat. All the main power of the blow fell on Fafnir's body, so he could only utter a mournful howl instead of a mighty roar - then he lowered his head, allowing Sanson to see the mutilated face, through the fragments of which the skull looked through.

Assassin suddenly heard footsteps and looked at Arthuria, who walked through the dust, slowly manifesting herself, like a ghost that came for his soul.

Arthuria took another step forward, then another, after which she was next to the body of Marie Antoinette. Looking at her, Arthuria closed her eyes, and then turned to Sanson.

"No," she said, and then slowly moved forward.

Sanson looked at the girl uncomprehendingly, feeling how the last minutes of his life were leaving.

"No," she said again, "She accepted her fate."

"Even knowing that she would lose," Arthuria smiled, "Even knowing that she would die - even after accepting a hopeless battle... She still fought. And even when she died, she sacrificed herself for the sake of others. She met her death as an old friend…"

Arthuria approached Sanson, after which she brought the blade for the last blow, to which Sanson reacted calmly. He only looked up at Arthuria.

"She is My Queen after all," Assassin smiled, to which Arthuria answered with a smile.

"Yes," she smiled. "She is the true Queen."

After that a blow was dealt.

The blade in Arturia's hands fell only a few centimeters, without touching Sanson's chest, after which she froze.

"Huh?" - she sighed, after which her mouth was filled with blood, - "Ha?"

"You shouldn't forget about me," a voice heard nearby made the girl feel the wound on her neck slowly starting to bleed.

"Phan... tom," she realized instantly to whom this voice belonged and turned to Assassin.

"Of course, my dear," The Phantom of the Opera nodded, slowly turning the blades that replaced his fingers into a human hand, "Of course, it's me."

"You... Dishonest... Bastard," Arthuria could only spit blood, and then fell to the ground.

"Phantom of... the Opera…" - Sanson felt his weakening every second, so looking at the face of the appeared Assassin, who was waiting for a moment for his blow, - "You…"

"Of course I am," the man took a step, after which he looked around Sanson, "You are dying."

"I know," Assassin smiled, "Finally... I can be... Free from the Witch..."

"Fafnir is dying too," said the Phantom, ignoring the man's words, after which he turned his eyes to the dragon.

"Yes," Sanson nodded and smiled, feeling his eyes close, "Good..."

"No," the Phantom's voice suddenly struck Sanson, forcing him to open his eyes. "You will not die so easily."

"Ha..." laughed the man, "Ha... Ha ha... Ha ha ha... Why deny the obvious, Phantom? Even the Witch... Even Gilles will not be able to heal me... Or Fafnir... Now."

"Yes, it's impossible to heal you," the Phantom nodded at this, after which a light half laugh appeared on his lips, "But this does not mean that you will die. My Christine will still find a use for you."

"Huh?" - Sanson just looked at the Phantom with a daze, but froze a second later.

"The army is advancing to storm Orleans," he sighed, then turned to Arthuria. "In that case, we need to hurry."

Arthuria heard a step next to her, but could not do anything. She was wounded before - but now, after the last wound - she could not even gather enough strength in herself to get off the ground.

Thin hands turned the girl over, which was able to look into the beautiful face of the Phantom, covered with a disfigured mask.

"You are very beautiful," the man admitted after a second of inspection, "What a pity that you turned out to be the enemy of my Christine..."

Arthuria could only grit her teeth and speak,- "Go to Hell."

"I was already there, lady," the man smiled, after which his fingers, once again turned into blades, lay on Arthuria's neck, "And I returned."

With the next movement of the Assassin's hand, Saber, Arthuria Alter, died.


Life Denial: EX (B) (Case)

Production of negative energy by the undead is an integral part of their existence - as well as their natural characteristics. This is especially true for the Elder Lichs, which, with their touch, are able to cause metal to rust, and people to die. This is especially true for Overlords, each of which is such a powerful source of negative energy that their very presence can turn a flowering garden into thickets of dead grass. And, of course, this applies especially strongly to Ainz.

Ainz is not only the Overlord of the highest rank and a great necromancer, but also the creature who subjugated Helheim - the reality of the dead - and the ruler of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, the stronghold of the forces of Evil and negative energy. Ainz is so saturated with negative energy that it would be easier to consider him an anomaly, a living distortion of reality, consisting of negative energy of such quality and quantity that even divinity is not save from the distorting and destructive presence of a living embodiment of unlife.
 
Chapter 25: Road to Orleans
Chapter 25: Road to Orleans

Ainz was moving forward slowly while feeling the wagon swaying beneath him. Of course, he could also ride in front of the army, on horseback with Gilles, Jeanne and John - perhaps even carry his flag along with the standards of the army - but being unsure of his abilities as a rider, he preferred to just sit in the wagon, allowing himself not to worry about a possible fall from the horse and just indulge in observation.

The army was moving slowly — soldiers clinking with weapons — horses sometimes spurred by their riders — all slowly moving forward. Ainz once again looked around, noticing the trees slowly passing by and the faces of the soldiers, ready for a new battle, maybe the last for them.

"L'HOMME ARME!" - an unexpected sharp sound startled Ainz - "DOIBT ON DOUBTER!"

The sound was like a scream, if the scream periodically changed its tone and depth - for a second, Ainz thought that someone had stepped on a cat very close to him.

"ON A FAIT!" - Ainz flinched once more, when after a second of delay the scream rang out again and again, Ainz began to turn his head in all directions, - "PARTOUT CRIER!"

"Where are these hellish sounds coming from?!" - Mozart's voice distracted the magician for a second, after which he glanced at Caster, who was trying to plug his ears with all his might.

"QUE CHASCUN!" - the sound capable of tearing eardrums rumbled once more and Ainz saw several soldiers moving in front of the column and not so far from him grimacing, "SE VIEGNE ARMER!"

After these words, Ainz was finally able to find the reason why this terrifying noise was now pouring into his ears.

"D'UN HAUBREGON DE FER!" - shouted one more line from a terrible monster, hiding under the face of a young girl, marching not far from the wagon of Ainz himself.

"Please stop, I cannot bear this torture anymore!" - Mozart's voice became even louder, but Bathory had already opened her mouth to sing further, so Caster had no choice but to just shut her up with his own hands, - "I swear I hear everything a thousand times better than a normal person - but never, never in my life have I regretted it more than now!"

"Ugh!" - immediately Elizabeth pulled away when Mozart shut her mouth, - "What do you think you are doing?!"

"What you am I doing?!" - Mozart instantly pulled away from the girl, looking at her in horror, - "What kind of torture was that?!"

"Torture?!" - immediately Bathory was offended, after which she looked at Caster with anger, - "The song is to raise morale before the fight!"

"So that was a song!" - Mozart immediately grabbed his head, and then looked at Lancer again, - "So you say that it was... A song?!"

"Of course!" - Bathory was indignant with the look of insulted innocence, - "What else could it be?!"

"It was just a scream!" - Mozart accused the girl with a finger.

"How dare you!.." the girl tried to be indignant, but her speech was interrupted by the heavy fan of Kiyohime, which was delivered to the top of her head a second later, "Why?!"

"The fake dragon is causing problems," Kiyohime opened her fan, after which she fanned herself, - "Moreover, for the dragon himself... It is incomprehensible to the mind how I could spend so much time with you."

"You!" - Lancer immediately rushed - but this time she nevertheless chose Mozart as her target, that already ran away from her anger a second prior. Kiyohime, feeling some responsibility for the stupid creature entrusted to her, rushed after her. However, Ainz only looked away from the fight that remained behind the march. The magician was not even worried that the Servants might be left behind - they would still catch up with the army, so instead of worrying, he simply turned his eyes to another company of Servants who were moving next to him.

"They are too relaxed for those who are going to fight," Archer said calmly, and then moved forward. Of course, there was some distance between him and Ainz, but fortunately being a Servant still allowed the magician to make out his words.

"Come on," Cu Chulainn only dismissed the thought, "Let them have fun before the fight. Everything is better than senseless jitters."

"Maybe," Archer said sparingly, after which he turned his eyes to the army, which was moving next to him, and was now passing by a swarm of three Servants, trying not to stare at them with all their might, "However, I'm still wondering what the army will think, watching an adult man fights with two girls.

"Only that children have no place on the battlefield," Caster shrugged and turned his eyes to Archer. "And perhaps you should watch the kids closer."

"Me?!" - almost stumbled out of the red Archer, glancing at Cu Chulainn, - "And why should I?!"

"Well, look," Cu Chulainn used his staff to lean on him, after which he began to speak. "Jeanne obviously should not deal with children, since she is a symbol of France, not Gilles, because he is the main commander, and not Ainz, since most soldiers do not even know about his existence. Not me and not Rider, since we were busy with soldiers in the infirmary. And, of course, not Serenity - no one in his right mind would trust her with kids. You are the only one that remained - a cold and detached cool warrior - the love for children would complete your image completely."

"I'm a warrior and an archer, not a nanny!" - the guy was indignant, but this was not enough.

"You aren't an archer really if you use only swords," Caster sighed.

"I don't want to hear this from a magician whose main weapon is a spear," Archer sighed and looked at Caster angrily, but Cu Chulainn just grinned back.

"But at least I have ny runes," Caster just shrugged, "And I can do pretty impressive things with them."

"I'm also pretty good at a sword fight," Archer replied calmly, finally moving away from the thought of children.

"More or less," Caster waved ambiguously with his hand in the air, showing his attitude to Archer.

"And what makes you consider me this "more or less"?" - only looked at Caster Archer.

"You shoot swords well," Caster smiled at the absurdity of the phrase, "And you can fight with them because you know how to fight with swords. As a Servant, you are not particularly strong."

"Should I consider that an insult?" Archer looked coldly at Caster.

"No, rather it's a praise," Cu Chulainn unexpectedly declared, after which he looked at Archer. "What you cannot take by force, you take with cunning and skill. It is worthy of respect, actually."

Archer, not fully understanding whether he should have been offended by this or not, stopped, looking only at the back of Caster, who was moving forward.

Ainz looked again - this time finding a group of three riders moving slightly ahead of him.

"I will consider it an honor to fight with such a legendary knight side by side," Siegfried smiled at Rider, dressed in a white cloak, that only slightly spurred his horse.

"Not worth it," the man dismissed these words, "We all are fighting together today, and besides, perhaps I am the one that is honored. I have never fought alongside other dragon slayers side by side in my life."

"As I am," Siegfried only smiled, after which he turned to the third participant in the discussion, which at that time only remained silent.

"In this case - I can't even describe what an honor it is for me to fight with you two side by side!" - Mashu smiled at both riders, after which the horse under her arms suddenly bucked, forcing the girl to grab onto the reins.

"Not the best stallion you got there" Siegfried smiled at the girl.

"No, no, it's not that!" she immediately tried to brush aside these words, - "I must have the Ride skill, just... I'm not the best with regard to being a Servant."

"But!" - the girl immediately tried to make excuses, - "I can protect you! I can do a great job with the shield!"

"I apologize," Siegfried apologized immediately for touching on this topic, after which he smiled. "In that case, I will rely on your shield."

"Of course," the girl smiled, after which she turned her gaze to Rider nearby, "True, the shield does not help me on horse riding... Tell me, could you teach me this?"

"I?" - The Rider stopped, after which he smiled a little - "I'm sorry, but in truth I myself am not particularly good at this."

"Really?" - Mashu looked at Rider in disbelief, - "But you are so confident in the saddle…"

"This is not my achievement," the man smiled. "This is all my horse... In truth, this is all his doing."

"You value him highly," smiled Mashu, after which her horse kicked back again.

"Of course," Rider smiled. "I would not be afraid to entrust my life to him."

At this moment, the Mashu's horse finally stood up, after which the girl tried to spur him uncertainly to force him to move along with two other riders, but this did not work out for her.

"Apparently, there's indeed a problem," Siegfried said in the end, after which he pulled his stallion, "Well, I'll look for another..."

"Don't!" - immediately Mashu tried to stop the guy, - "I'll do it myself now…"

"It's no problem," the dragon fighter smiled.

"But you are a legendary hero, Dragon Slayer Siegfried!" - The girl was immediately dumbfounded, - "You should not do this!"

"I shouldn't," Siegfried smiled. "And if there was a dragon here, I would have not. But now let me fix this little annoyance."

Instantly spurring the stallion, Siegfried rushed back. Mashu, with a sigh, kicked her horse lightly in frustration, making him snort.

"I feel bad for him," Shielder rubbed her face. "He shouldn't do that."

"He just does his job, nothing more," Rider smiled back, "If he decided to help, then why should we be against it?"

"And yet," Mashu sighed, after which Ainz turned his gaze to the side again. This time only to face nose to nose with Serenity, who was next to him, unnoticed by Ainz himself.

"Ah, Serenity," the magician smiled instantly, suppressing the urge to flinch at the unexpected effectiveness of her presence concealment, after which, trying to hush his inner awkwardness, put his hand on her head and patted her hair. She, sensing a familiar action that she lacked so much, only giggled confusedly.

"Thank you, Master," the girl smiled instantly. "You know how to help a girl with her thoughts."

"Help?" - Ainz looked at that incomprehensibly, - "But I did nothing."

"You did even more than necessary for me, Master... My husband," the girl nevertheless said a few seconds later, after which she smiled.

"I did nothing special," Ainz smiled at Serenity in response, feeling a slight misunderstanding rise inside him.

To this, Serenity only shook her head a couple of times, after which she looked at the magician carefully, "My whole body, my breath... I myself am a poison from which there is no escape. Even if you are protected from poison, then this is still a risk... And I am grateful to you that you still risked for me."

"Nothing of the kind," Ainz sighed. "I didn't risk anything for you... Speaking of which, it is more likely that you are the one risking yourself for me... Sorry for that."

"It's okay, my husband," the girl smiled. "Such is the life of a Servant."

"Thank you, Serenity," Ainz smiled back, then ruffled the girl's hair. After sitting for a few more seconds, she finally got up from her seat and, a little unexpectedly for Ainz, jumped off the wagon, and then headed back.

"Hmmm..." - Ainz looked after the retreating girl, and then nodded - "Okay, maybe she is just... No, not a single thought. Maybe she needed something there? Women are strange creatures."

Ainz continued to look after the retreating girl when a new face appeared next to him.

"Good afternoon," Jeanne said it calmly, so this time Ainz did not jump, nevertheless hearing her steps.

For a second, Gilles also slipped by next to Ainz, greeting him with a nod, and then headed off somewhere back into the ranks of the army.

'Maybe he went to stop the fight?' - Ainz remembered the three Servants left behind and sighed. Nevertheless, such events are really sad.

"Good day," finally Ainz nevertheless answered Jeanne's greeting, after which he turned to face her.

Jeanne smiled back at him, after which she turned her gaze to the Servant's nearby.

"Hell, I'm the greatest Celtic hero, I must not drag horses!" - Cu Chulainn appeared next to Rider and Mashu, holding the reins of a new stallion, - "I have to fight in great battles, and not do the manual work!"

"I apologize," Mashu bowed in response, forcing Cu Chulainn only to wave his hand.

"Ah, forget it," he sighed, after which he waved at the horse next to him, "Climb up."

Apologizing again, Mashu nevertheless dismounted, after which she moved to Cu Chulainn's horse.

"They are good people," came a voice next to Ainz, making him remember that Jeanne was now right next to him.

"Yes, perhaps," Ainz sighed at these words, after which he looked at the people behind. A whole army of people.

Jeanne, catching his eyes, sighed.

"Many will die on that day," she said, causing Ainz to shake her head. He did not feel anything from the realization of how many people would die in a future battle, but...

"In the end, none of this happened," the mage sighed.

"What do you mean?" - Jeanne looked at him carefully.

"All this..." - Ainz sighed "After all that has happened and in the end the story will simply be erased. Soldier, battles, Witches, monsters, magic, undead... In the end, nothing like this will ever happen."

Jeanne, hearing this, however, only smiled, - "That is not important. Even if some things do not remain in people's memory and in history textbooks - we will remember this all the same. Memories and our lives... They will not be in vain simply because they will not be remembered after many centuries. After all, we lived... And we had a meaning in this life."

"It is possible," Ainz sighed. "However... What is the point? The battle in the end is pointless - the soldiers who survive in the battle of Orleans... History will erase them all - some of them will be lost, some disappear without a trace - but still they will all die."

"It is possible," Jeanne sighed, "But the memories of them will remain — at least for us. And it is also valuable in itself."

"Memories…" - Ainz paused for a second, feeling how something moved in his soul from this word, after which he dismissed this.

"Yes," however Jeanne only smiled, "We will know and remember that we fought for a reason - that we did something miraculous... Something right... The bad things that happened to us should not erase all the good that we did. Our battle is a battle against monsters, Witches, evil - it cannot be meaningless... Even if no one else will remember it."

For a second, Ainz froze. Jeanne's words suddenly touched his soul.

"Jeanne," Gilles appeared next to Jeanne, distracted the girl, but could not get Ainz out of his thoughts, "We are approaching Orleans. Could you speak to the soldiers? Words from their Saint could help them."

"Of course," the girl sighed, after which, glancing at Ainz, still pondering next to her, jumped off the wagon and moved back. Gilles, being next to her, nodded to the girl, after which he did not follow her, but remained next to the magician, who was still thinking about something.

For a few seconds, Gilles moved next to the wagon, and then nevertheless, looked at the magician, - "You know... I envy you a little."

"Hmm?" - finally distracted Ainz from his thoughts, glancing at Saber.

"Jeanne talks a lot about you," Gilles smiled at Ainz, after which, when he finally made sense of what was said, he shook his head, "No, no, nothing. In fact, I'm even glad."

"Glad?" - Ainz looked at Gilles.

"Yes, glad," Gilles smiled, "When she talks about you, she always smiles, and her eyes sparkle. I'm glad to see her like that."

Ainz silently continued to stare at Saber for several seconds, then sighed.

"You heard my plan," Ainz looked at the soldier again. "You should not overestimate me, really. And my plan… it's not built around the survival of people and of good deeds."

"I know," Gilles sighed at this, and then smiled, "They say that a bad deed done for good is worse than any evil... Tell me then, can you say the opposite - that a good deed done even with the most selfish of motives should it still be considered good?"

For a few seconds Ainz was silent, after which he looked at Gilles, "I don't know."

"Nobody knows," Gilles sighed, "Nobody. But one thing that I know - they are good people... And you are also a good person, Ainz. I'm glad to fight in my last battle with you."

With these words, Gilles directed the horse back, back to Jeanne, leaving the magician alone.

And yet, not quite alone.

"This girl!" - in the end, Cu Chulainn appeared as if from nowhere, fortunately not being near Ainz, but joining Rider, who was moving nearby, on foot, - "Oh, Rider!"

"Yes?" - the brown-haired man turned to Caster, but he only shook his head.

"No, not you," he grinned, after which he turned in the direction of the horsewoman who stood farthest from the moving army and shouted to her, "Medusa!"

The girl, in the end, reluctantly, however, moved her horse towards Cu Chulainn, forcing him to grin.

"By the way, I never thought about it, but," the mage sighed and glanced at the two Riders, "Won't you become a great team, since you are both Riders?"

The brown-haired man only shrugged and looked at Medusa, who was holding the blindfold at her eyes at the moment.

"I don't know, but I would be glad, if this will turn out to be true," the man smiled at Medusa, after which he looked at Caster, "I am not the most suitable person for a battle. In the end, I am more likely a protector than a warrior."

"Yes?" - Cu Chulainn looked at him a little in surprise, - "But aren't you a dragon-killer?"

"Yes, that's what they call me. I'm not saying that I'm useless in battle," the rider smiled. "However, I'm not quite a warrior. "

"Excellent," smiled Cu Chulainn, "Because I would need a defender. At least then I could do whatever magic I myself wanted. What about you, Medusa?"

"It doesn't matter," the girl only sighed. "I have good opportunities for attack and a couple of abilities suitable for defense."

"Fine!" - Cu Chulainn smiled, - "At least I could then kill at least one noticeable enemy on my own! Maybe even the dragon himself - I think we would be able to knock him down together."

"It is possible," the man on the horse shrugged, then stopped and, looking back, sighed, "It seems that Mashu didn't manage to cope with the horse. I will return to her."

"Wait," Cu Chulainn stopped the rider when he was already heading back. "The soldiers will approach her."

"It is possible," the rider did not argue, "But I will still help."

"Saint," Cu Chulainn grunted, watching the horseman's back move away from him, after which he looked at Medusa, "At least the two of us would definitely work together."

"I'm not a vampire," the girl sighed, "But I swear to Hera, I will find a way to let all your blood out of you if you start this conversation again."

"Hey, that was only once!" - Cu Chulainn immediately tried to object, but Rider looked away from him and directed the horse away. It seems that something happened between them in the camp, which Ainz did not even know about.

In the end, Ainz sighed and looked up at the sky.

It is like his days in Yggdrasil...

Ainz smiled, after which the suppression of emotion made him go dark again.

But those days have passed and they could not be returned.

His Ainz Ooal Gown will never return. Never.

Conversations stopped.

At that moment, Ainz felt a connection with a Servant form in his head and nodded. They are approaching Orleans.

It is time to carry out his plan.


At the moment the foot of Medusa touched the road in front of the gates of Orleans, Chevalier was already in place, watching the Servants approach with his usual cheerful smile, as if he were not at all bothered by the impending armada of his future opponents.

"I must admit that I expected you earlier," the guy smiled at the moment when Archer — and then all the other Servants — stopped in front of Saber himself at a distance of several tens of meters, "Besides, I don't see the army behind your back - although I was sure that you still will bring it with you... And I don't feel three more Servants - hmm... Does this mean that your Master chose to send you to fight on the front line on your own, without his support?"

"Like yours," Archer just shook his head at Chevalier's words, after which he carefully looked at the walls that stood literally a hundred meters behind d'Eon's back, "Why the farce? You would not fight alone - maybe in this case you will introduce your friends to us?"

"Ah, of course," Chevalier immediately smiled, after which, as if not afraid of an attack, he turned around, "Guys, get down! It is impolite not to greet the guests!"

After a second, five shadows instantly jumped from the wall - and Medusa felt the appearance of new Servants very close to them.

"I suppose you already managed to meet all the gentlemen present," at that moment Chevalier glanced at the two standing girls on his side - Carmilla, who looked at the Servant opposite her with hatred, after which she looked at Archer, holding a huge bow, - "And the ladies of course. But just in case, let me remind you."

"Saber," the man pointed to himself, "Chevalier d'Eon."

After that, the guy moved his hand to the right, - "Carmilla, our beautiful Assassin - and her two colleagues, Charles Henri Sanson and the Phantom of the Opera."

"Let me also introduce you to two faces, possibly new to you," at that moment Saber lifted his hand, pointing to a girl with a huge bow and a man in a black gown standing to his left, "Archer and Caster."

"I hope you get along," the guy smiled, causing Medusa to tense up. The most paradoxical thing in Chevalier was that Medusa could not determine with certainty-was his tone mocking at the moment when he said this - or was it friendly.

"I think we'll come up with something about this," Archer nodded in response, without a single emotion in his voice, after which he glanced at Chevalier.

"Well, then," Chevalier sighed, and then slowly pulled his blade from its scabbard, causing the rest of the Servants to strain, "I must admit, I would like to continue our meeting - but the reality is that we need to fight - and possibly kill each other."

"Although, of course," the moment Chevalier finally pulled out his sword and stood in the rack, he sighed, "I would expect such meanness from myself — but not from you. On your side, let me count... A girl with a shield, Archer, Mozart, Medusa, that poisonous girl, Cu Chulainn - and four Servants who refused to serve the Witch. Saber, Lancer, Rider and Berserker. Ten against six - do you not think that this is a little dishonest?"

"Behind your back are three hundred wyverns and tens of thousands of dead," this time Cu Chulainn intervened in the conversation, "Finish this farce."

"Oh, really?" - a little surprised, as if he had just realized this, Chevalier turned to the city, over which hundreds of wyverns continued to turn and whistled, "I completely forgot. In that case, perhaps... It would be foolish not to use them in battle, right?"

"Commander ..." he glanced toward Caster, who was only taking a breath. After a second, hundreds of wyverns fell down over the city.

The battlefield instantly exploded with flickering figures and dozens of attacks.


The first was Chevalier.

Without even turning his face from the city, he suddenly pushed off the ground, and then with a united movement, in some unthinkable pirouette, while in the air, he struck. The narrow blade of Chevalier aimed at Archer - but the Servant easily jumped back - after which Chevalier's sword grated powerlessly against the metal that appeared before him. Huge metal shield.

"Oh, and you are very beautiful, lady," Chevalier smiled at the moment when he could see Mashu blocked the blow. A second later, the long narrow dagger of Medusa stuck in Saber's stomach, forcing him to gasp, after which a sharp blow of Mashu sent him in a short flight.


Archer rushed forward a moment earlier, bypassing the situation. His goal was Sanson, who until then seemed to him to be the most suitable opponent for him - however, an arrow plunged before him into the ground, from which Archer jumped back, and made him stop.

"So you're the one they call Archer?" - the girl who was holding a huge bow in her hands instantly pulled a new arrow, after which Archer went to the side in a leap, - "Let's see what you are really worth."


Unlike the two previously mentioned, Elizabeth Bathory was able to get to exactly the enemy with whom she wanted to fight.

Carmilla easily walked away with a graceful movement from the spear that arose in Lancer's hands, after which she easily repelled a direct attack with her hand, leading her to the side. Bathory, however, instead of stopping in a vulnerable position, continued to move, plunging her spear into the ground, and then used it like a pole to turn around sharply, trying to kick Carmilla. Assassin was not ready for this, and therefore the girl's knee crashed into the face of the woman, who staggered back.

"Long time no see, Elizabeth Bathory!" - the girl smirked at the moment when Assassin was able to erase the blood that suddenly spilled on her beautiful face from her broken nose.

"Girl," Carmilla frowned in disgust, "You... Are nothing — you are unworthy of my name!"

"I gave up my fate and human accusations," she grinned, and then turned her spear in her hands, "I don't even want to hear the accusations from the murderer of hundreds of women!"

"You are just the me who could not accept the truth about herself," Carmilla looked with hatred at Lancer, which she only stuck her tongue out childishly, taunting the woman.

"You are just the me who agreed to accept evil and turn into a monster because of resentment and hatred," countered Lancer, and then pointed her spear at Assassin, "Now - shut up and let's fight!"


Right next to them, Caster - Caster of the Witch - only looked at the empty space next to him, and then gave the order to the remaining Servants.

"Go," he ordered instantly, after which the Phantom and Charles rushed off, leaving Caster alone. He, however, did not begin to move anywhere after - instead, unexpectedly, the black mage's spell struck an empty place very close to him. Serenity, whose movement was noticed, threw off her disguise, after which she threw several blades in a jump. Caster himself did not respond to this - a sharp gust of wind knocked down the blades before they could pierce his body.

"You," he said, immediately pointing to Assassin, who had come out of invisibility, "That poisonous bitch that poisoned Jeanne!"

Serenity did not begin to talk - instead, she rushed forward to Caster, with the intention of driving a blade into his body. However, Caster did not take risks.

"Book of Prelati!" he called instantly to his own Phantasm, after which a violet tentacle that hit the ground made Serenity step back.

"I know that you are poisonous," Caster grinned smugly. "In that case, the solution is quite simple. I won't fight you by myself."

A second later, the ground trembled beneath Serenity's feet, causing her to jump back several times, dodging tentacles that appeared as if from nowhere, covered with transparent mucus and half-open mouths with saliva dripping from them.

"Tell me in this case, bitch," Caster looked at the tentacle, where one of Serenity's poisoned blades pierced into its body, at its convulsive trembling and how, just after a few seconds after the blow, it fell to the ground dead, "Why is your Master - and its allies - aren't there on the battlefield right now?"

Serenity only looked at Caster like an idiot, thinking for a second about whether there would have been at least someone from the Servants who would so easily reveal a secret to the enemy - after which she came to the disappointing conclusion that there are still a lot of such people - and rushed into the battle.


Siegfried was preparing to fight the dragon. Rider was also preparing to fight the dragon.

However, both of them were waiting for a strange disappointment at the moment when they met with the Servants - but could not see their main opponent anywhere.

Or is it? ..

The two Servants rushed forward - but the one whom Chevalier named as Sanson blocked the way. For a second both swordsmen froze.

The assassin looked before him... Strange.

His body was not wounded and even his clothes were fully restored - but to say that he was healthy was impossible. Instead, Assassin continued to stand in his place, looking at the floor - sometimes a small cramp ran through his body and his head twitches to the side, as if from time to time he had seizures.

"So you are our opponent?" - Siegfried said it out loud, but Assassin did not react to the hero's words, only jerking his head again.

"I feel the evil of the dragon from him," Rider leaned toward Siegfried, and then quietly said this in his ear, but that was what caused Assassin to jerk his head sharply, raising his face to the two dragon-killers.

"Siegfried, my good friend," he smiled. "How long have we not seen..."

"If my memory serves me right, then we never saw each other," Siegfried looked at Assassin. He, hearing the words of Saber, froze.

"Of course..." he said and smiled. Sanson's smile gradually grew in breadth, turning into a beastly grin - after which Assassin raised an open palm to his face, - "That's right... That's right - we never met... Ha ha ha…"

Sanson's quiet chuckle reached the ears of the two Servants despite the battle unfolding around them.

"Ha ha ha..." Sanson grinned again, and then laughed out loud.

Siegfried pushed his blade forward - but suddenly noticed a strange thing. Gradually, the Assassin lowered his palm, running across his face - however, Saber could see that in those places where his palm runs across his face, there are bloody marks. Siegfried instantly determined that the guy's hand was clenched like claws piercing Sanson's flesh.

"It's self-torture," Rider leaned toward Siegfried. "He's ripping off his skin."

"AHAHAHAHAHA!" - Sanson continued to laugh, slowly running his hand over his face, after which, at the last moment, reaching the end of his face and tearing off another piece of skin, he suddenly stopped, looking at his opponents. Blood continued to drip from the many wounds on the guy's face - but he only smiled - "Tell me why I... Why he... Why do we both suffer? What for?"

"I will free you from your suffering," Siegfried put his blade forward, pointing to Assassin, "Surrender now."

"Surrender?" - Assassin staggered back from the word, as if from a whip, after which he laughed again, - "Oh no, my dear friend, not at all! I will not give up - I have no right and way to do it! I will fight - fight with all our strength!"

"Our?" - Siegfried prepared his blade for the strike, to which Rider answered the same. However, Charles only laughed at these actions, - "Stupidity, Siegfried, stupidity! That is your main mistake, my dear friend! Really - stupidity…"

In the hands of Assassin, still covered with his own blood, his blade appeared instantly - a huge and awkward, like a guillotine.

"And now - fight, dragon-killers!" - Sanson grinned madly, - "Free us from this torment!"


"So we meet again?" - The Phantom of the Opera said this calmly, observing how Mozart is slowly approaching him, - "Great, great! After all, it is in this battle that your death will become another step on the path of my Christina!"

"I would argue about this," Mozart said it calmly, after which he pointed to the man, "And now, I'm sorry, but I have some responsibilities in this battle. Requiem for Death!"

Impossible music, not created by God's Child, seemed to feel the moment of possible invasion of reality - however, it was not so simple.

"Christine, Christine!" - the power of the Phantom of the Opera took shape in the same second - after which the world froze when two destructive songs collided for a second. This confrontation lasted only a second - after which Mozart's music, ready to tear reality, receded. The destructive song of the Phantom of the Opera died down in that second too.

"I didn't know that you could do that," said Mozart at the same second, but the Phantom of the Opera only smiled.

"Your Phantasm embodies music that cannot be written," Phantom explained benevolently to Caster, "My music embodies all the songs that could have been - but did not happen. We are equal in this."

"Maybe," Mozart smiled, "But this does not mean that your singing has become better."

"Oh," the Phantom smiled, but his smile came out contemptuous and a little bit angry. Assassin's hands began to turn into two huge, blade-clawed paws, - "I will stuff those words into your throat."

"And even that won't make your singing better," Mozart smiled, after which he sent a spell.


"Damn it, I again remained to carry out side tasks!" - Cu Chulainn uttered angrily, sending spell after spell into a huge cloud of wyverns moving right into the thick of the battle.

"Could you stop whining?" - Kiyohime responded calmly, dodging the blow of the next wyvern, and then with a flick of her hand sent it on a short flight, - "I have enough of it from the stupid girl."

"You can't imagine what it is like! - Caster indignantly waved his staff, sending a fire arrow at the nearest wyvern, - "To be the greatest Celtic hero and to turn out to be unnecessary all the time! Even in this damn battle, I was forced to kill the wyverns - wasn't that why we took the army with us?"

"The army will be here in a few minutes," the girl answered calmly, after which she easily pulled her fan. The rising gust of wind caused the wyvern to recoil - after which, with a slight movement, Kiyohime separated the creature's head from its body, - "Just in time to move the Servants out of the way, otherwise the army would simply die as a side effect of the battle."

"All according to the plan, yeah, yeah," Cu Chulainn muttered to himself, after which he shook his head, not forgetting to burn another monster with a stream of fire, after which he looked at Serenity, "Although, even after Archer told me, I just can't believe in the fact that Ainz created such a plan so long ago... Damn, how did he even manage to predict the fact that Archer would fall under the control of the Phantom of the Opera and not tell him the plan so that the Phantom would not know about it and at the same time learn about its existence, to make enemies behave in such a way that the plan become possible... Damn it, it hurts my head to even think about the very fact of the existence of such a plan! This is complete bullshit!"

"Yes, I confess, only once I happened to meet an equally stunning man," Kiyohime hit the wyvern, and then suddenly froze. The monster, sensing the absence of blows, tried to rise, but Kiyohime, still in thought, pressed it to the ground with her foot and looked at Caster, "By the way... Where does Ainz come from?"

"If I knew," Cu Chulainn sent a spell forward, "He never told it. Judging by his habits, he may be Japanese - or maybe just a traveler who spent a lot of time there."

"Traveler?" - Kiyohime thought about it, slightly shifting her weight to the other leg, making the wyvern plaintively howl, - "Hmm..".

"Hey, don't get distracted!" - Cu Chulainn sent a spell, after which he glanced at Berserker, - "Even if we do not like this work there is no reason not to do it."

"Yes, yes, of course," Kiyohime raised her leg, and then lowered it, breaking the spine of the wyvern, "I just thought..."

"About what?" - Cu Chulainn asked a question, sending a flurry of fire in three wyverns at once, forcing them to separate.

"Nothing special," Kiyohime took a few steps, appearing next to the head of the wyvern, the spine of which she broke a second ago, and then put her foot on its head, "Just... I think I should talk later with Ainz... Closer."

"All the girls want to talk to him," Caster sighed.

"Oh," Kiyohime smiled, from which Caster suddenly felt a chill run down his back, "I think that the other girls will not become... An obstacle... On my way."


Eye of the Mind (True) - a skill that indicates the ability of the user to look at the current situation from all points of view, evaluating all possible risks and opportunities for the development and outcome of a situation, the conditions that led to it and the features surrounding it. This skill is responsible for the ability of the Servant to determine not only the weaknesses or strengths of opponents, but also to create plans or correctly assessing the situation in which they are, as well as the ability to avoid the effect of illusions or understand the principle of an ability or its mechanism.

There are two versions of this skill, True and False. The false version is a granted power - either from a special birth or from divine intervention, or, perhaps, from the effect of an artifact - while the Eye of the Mind (True) is an ability achieved by the person himself, from the vast experience of the Servant or from a long study of the subject.

In other words, Eye of the Mind (True) is a manifestation of incredible experience and insight from the mind associated with their experience. This skill only works in areas in which it was originally acquired - most often in combat.
 
Chapter 26: Orleans: Beginning of the fight
Chapter 26: Orleans: Beginning of the fight

Mozart sighed intermittently, catching his breath from Assassin's attacks, and then jerked away once again, almost losing his arm from one sweeping blow.

'I really will lose this way' - the musician scowled unhappily. Of course, he did not think he would receive a great power by becoming a Servant, but still - he was weak. His opponent was strong - very, very strong - and while Mozart was useful in many situations, the magic of Orpheus gave him incredible flexibility in terms of tactics. But still in direct combat, he was weak.

"It seems that I have no other choice" - Mozart glanced to the side where the rest of the battle was. Somewhere in the distance, sparks from the battle of two dragon-killers and Sanson were visible, the shadow of Chevalier was visible, evading attacks. Archer's arrow pierced the building next to him, burying a wyvern that decided to fly from below and attack the entrenched Cu Chulainn under the rubble - after which the vague shadow of Serenity slipped nearby, pursuing Caster. After that, Mozart's gaze settled on Bathory, who was fighting nearby - and Bathory, who was also defending herself. The magician sighed - 'Apparently, I have to use this opportunity... I still do not like complex plans though.'

After that, the musician jerked to the side.

"Not bad," Phantom of the Opera praised sparingly toward Mozart at the moment when his steel- clawed paw passed literally a millimeter from the neck of the mage who managed to use his spell.

Mozart did not answer this verbally, instead preferring a simpler and more effective method. Several magic shells appeared at the moment when his music touched the strings of reality - after which they immediately rushed forward. Fortunately or not, but the Phantom was able to escape the path of attack, and then rushed forward.

"Tell me, musician," the Phantom's claws cut open the shield, cast in a hurry, and then pierced Amadeus's flesh, that made a grimace of pain, "How does it feel to lose your beloved?"

"It hurts," the caster answered calmly, "But it is not as painful as being rejected."

The Phantom could not endure this remark. A moment later, he rushed forward, exposing his claws, the most impressive weapon that he had - it seemed that even his face had changed at the moment when it came to his damned love for Christine - however, Mozart hoped for such a development of events.

"It's too easy to piss you off," Amadeus replied calmly, after which the spell, prepared before that, made the Phantom freeze in a half-step. At the same time, realizing that he had just let his anger take over him, his visage instantly changed - after which his grin turned into a calm, cold face, as if there was never anger in his soul.

"Now - let me do what you didn't succeed in doing," Amadeus smiled, after which the Phantom felt something touching his mind. Quiet and beautiful singing suddenly made the Phantom stop - after which, when the strong but brief curse subsided, remain in place.

"Good," bringing the verse to the end, Mozart sighed, and then took a step forward, "But not enough."

The ghost, on the other hand, felt how a slow, quiet singing penetrated his mind, seemingly through every cell of his body - as if he had not heard the music, but felt it with his soul. Slowly, Caster approached him - and Assassin felt the tone gradually build up, penetrating his mind more and more.

Assassin knew what the meaning of Mozart's song was. He himself used it more than once.

"I didn't know that you also resorted to manipulating the mind," the Assassin grinned, feeling how the will to resist were leaving him.

"Oh, believe me," it seemed as if Mozart was speaking, but in fact his words were intertwined in his singing so organically that Assassin literally heard them inside his mind, "I'm not new to dirty tricks."

Stronger and stronger, deeper and deeper, Mozart's voice became more and more insinuating, commensurate with his every step, bringing the mage closer to Assassin, penetrating through the layers of the Phantom's mind. Superficial thoughts, current personality, subconscious mind, memories...

The Assassin smiled when Caster took the last step towards him, allowing the music of the mage to get to the most secret essence of the Servant.

And freeze in horror.

To Mozart's honor, it was worth saying that he managed to evade when Assassin's claws split through the air - so he survived. However, he still did not expect such a trap - and therefore, after a second, Mozart's severed arm fell to the ground.

Amadeus did not dare to continue to attack - instead of taking several jumps back with the help of his magic, he only glanced at the Phantom in an incomprehensible way.

"Welcome to my mind," the Assassin smiled, feeling how the curse of the musician, having reached those depths of the mind that he should not touch, passed, "Do you like it?"

"What..." - Mozart's gaze stared at Assassin in fear — however, it was impossible to understand what was more in it — fear due to a severed hand — or fear due to what Mozart saw in the Phantom's mind, "What is it?"

"My mind," the Phantom smiled, after which his smile turned into a grin, "Not the one my Christine gave me. Really mine."

Mozart was fairly honest and peaceful during his lifetime - he did not use his magic for evil and did not use his influence to punish his opponents. However, he really did not shun dirty tricks. Assassin was not the first whose mind was touched by a mage. In his life, neither his wife nor his children — nor casual passers-by — escaped this. This was not a highly moral matter, which Mozart was proud of - however, he would have accumulated ten or twenty times when, out of sheer curiosity, he used his magic not only to give people emotions or joy, but on occasion to see inside of pure, beautiful people, bright in soul - and petty, greedy, buried by their lowest desires.

Once, by accident, his magic touched the mind of a killer. A cruel and unprincipled man, his mind was unpleasant to be inside - three murders, two rapes, six robberies. A little while later the criminal was executed - however, Mozart remembered the sensations from his mind. It was a cruel, cold, unpleasant place, like a desert crypt full of small insects swarming in the corners - so that they could not be seen, and so that they were known.

This was negligible compared to what he touched in the mind of the Phantom of the Opera.

"What are you?" - Mozart looked at Assassin, for the first time since the battle, not as a person, but as something alien. As a monster.

"Oh, Phantom of the Opera," Assassin smiled, after which he bowed, deliberately not turning his claws into an ordinary human palm, "Nice to meet you, musician."

The mind of the Phantom of the Opera was like a seething abyss made up of blood and sewage. It was like a vile monster, full of ever-hungry mouths and wriggling slimy tentacles, reaching for a defenseless victim, wanting to devour another offering.

"Oh, my mind is a very special place, don't worry," the Phantom smiled. "Even mine... Colleagues prefer not to touch it - so I understand you. I certainly understand - do not be afraid, people who are much greater than you, were horrified at the sight - I'm used to it."

"And now I understand everything," Mozart sighed and closed his eyes. "Your terrible singing, and why Christine did not choose you."

The next second, when the name of the Phantom's lover was uttered by the mage, a bloody veil covered Assassin's eyes - however, instead of rushing forward without seeing any obstacles in front of him, the Phantom only grinned.

"Speak as much as you want, musician," the Phantom smiled, after which he glanced at the wound inflicted on Mozart. Blood flowed from the stump of his right hand - like a stream, not stopping,- "But you have little to say. How much can you hold out against me now? A minute, two?"

"Three," said Mozart, instantly realizing that this time his plan did not work, after which he looked apprehensively at his opponent, "But in any case, I did not plan to drag the battle with you longer than necessary."

"Excellent," the Phantom grinned, after which he looked madly at Mozart, "Then I will have time to tear off your skin and hang your corpse before this battle is over."


Chevalier dealt another blow - however, this time too, the blade grated powerlessly on the shield metal.

"Damn me, lady, you are good!" - he admired, instantly passing from the offensive to the defense at the moment when a dagger of Medusa struck into the ground next to him. Mashu took advantage of the attack, after which she tried to push Chevalier away - but she was easily sidestepped. After which, without any hitch, he evaded from the next blade of Medusa, turning his back to Mashu for a second. She could not help but take the opportunity - and yet another blow caused Chevalier to lose concentration. This was enough for Medusa - and the girl who immediately appeared next to him stamped her graceful leg into Saber's stomach. After this he could only gasp, after which, using the moment of impact, he jumped back.

"That hurts, you know," he smiled, after which he inspected his blade.

Mashu was not without wounds - her hands were cut narrowly with Chevalier's sword and several small bleeding wounds remained on her body. Medusa, although she tried to shield herself with the girl's shield, continued to periodically limp on one leg, which Chevalier managed to reach with his attack.

And yet, it could not be compared with Saber's wounds. Chevalier d'Eon was covered in wounds, many of which still continued to bleed - a particularly successful attack by Medusa cost him a deep cut on his face, having drawn a furrow along it without passing his left eye. Because of this, it seemed as if Chevalier was close to losing - but instead of being exhausted enough to fall in place - Saber only smiled.

Chevalier was strong. Very strong. Perhaps monstrously strong. He could compete with any of Ainz's servants - and he could defeat most of it.

But in the battle against Medusa and Mashu at the same time, albeit by not very much, but Chevalier was inferior. If he fought with Medusa - most likely, he would still win. If he fought with Mashu - his victory would only take a minute. But at the same time Chevalier could not fight with the two of them. More precisely, of course he could - but without hope of victory.

And yet this did not mean that the victory over Chevalier was easy .

Chevalier rushed forward - this time his blade was aimed not at Mashu, but at Medusa, who was ahead. She, however, only jumped back, finally throwing her blade toward Chevalier, at the moment when Mashu appeared next to him. This was what Chevalier sought.

Chevalier easily intercepted Rider's blade, after which he himself abruptly threw it, aiming at Shielder. She had no choice but to deflect the thrown blade by the shield, allowing Chevalier to appear next to the girl. Medusa managed to throw her second blade, causing Chevalier to retreat - however, Mashu cried out when Chevalier's sword entered her stomach.

"Not bad, not bad!" - Chevalier smiled, after which he stepped back, fleeing from the blow of the Mashu's shield, - "But what? Is that all you can do? Oh, you will defeat me - but how much time it will take! I already see the flags of the army rising above the horizon - no matter what your plan is, you do not have time!"

Medusa only frowned at the remark. Mashu was not so stupid as to look away from Chevalier, and for Medusa this action was useless, but the army really had to arrive in only a few minutes, so this time Medusa could believe that Chevalier was telling the truth.

But still…

"We have already succeeded," smiled Mashu, after which she put forward her shield.

They really managed to do what was planned - the Servants of Ainz and the Servants of the Witch were scattered - someone was already fighting inside the city, while someone was fighting not far from them - but still hundreds of meters away.

"Oh, really?" - Chevalier was surprised, - "But where is your Master? Oh, this terrifying mage - I'm sure if he fought now, our battle would end long ago."

"Maybe," Medusa replied shortly, "But he has his own plans for this battle."

"Really?" - Chevalier was genuinely surprised by this words, - "I thought, only I alone have a plan for this battle... Hmm, what a pity!"

"But still you are right," Medusa caught the soldiers approaching slowly by the growing roar of hoofs, "The army is approaching."

"Oh, lady, of course - I have an excellent reputation when it comes to truth and lies!" - Chevalier smiled.

"In that case, we need to finish," Medusa said calmly. Chevalier grinned.

"If you think so, lady," Chevalier smiled and rushed forward. This time, however, his movement was stopped by Mashu who was nearby.

"Bellerophon!" - the voice of Medusa sounded loudly, and the world lit up with light.

It was as if a beautiful stallion woven from light appeared in an instant in front of Medusa. A beautiful horse, whose radiance was like the sun, bowed its head in front of Rider, allowing her to jump on his neck, and then opened its huge, snow-white wings.

"Pegasus," Chevalier smiled, forgetting for a second that he was fighting, "How beautiful."

After that, Mashu, who had not forgotten that she was fighting, sent Chevalier into flight with a blow.

Chevalier easily, however, was able to catch his balance in the air, and then turn around in order to land on his feet - but he did not succeed. It was as if white lightning flashed across the sky - after which Chevalier's body was swept away, flying tens of meters. The impact of such a force did not allow d'Eon to maintain balance and a moment later Saber crashed to the ground like a doll whose strings have been cut.

"Oh-ooh-ooh," - Saber slowly began to rise from the ground - "Lady, your strength is worthy of every compliment that I can come up with!"

Medusa that controlled Bellerophon from its back only turned around for a new attack.

Chevalier tried to rush to the side - however, this time again, Mashu got in his way.

"And you, lady, too," Chevalier smiled at the moment when his gaze came across an obstacle, after which Bellerophon struck again.

Instantly, Chevalier flew back, like a leaf falling into a hurricane, after which he again hit the ground dozens of meters from the battlefield.


Carmilla walked away from Elizabeth's blow easily, not allowing it to hurt Carnilla's body, after which the staff in her hands turned into a mace that hit Lancer. The girl, having just squeaked, set off on a short flight.

"As I thought," Carmilla only grinned at the moment when Lancer's body hit the ground, "Weak and stupid."

"Shut up!" - with some kind of childish indignation at the name-calling, Bathory jumped from the ground, and then put down her spear, - "Old freak!"

"Old... Freak?" - Carmilla looked at Lancer, after which her face was contorted with anger, - "Oh, and you know how to drive me crazy!"

After that, the Assassin rushed forward, simultaneously with Lancer. This time, Lancer, however, was ready - in order to not allow her spear to be pulled to the side, she held it a little closer, and then sent it to the very heart of Carmilla. She, however, only stepped aside, after which Assassin jumped over Bathory. Lancer instantly redirected her spear, raising her hands - however, Carmilla in this case, of course, was already gone. Bathory, raising her spear, left her body unprotected - therefore, after a second, the tip of Carmilla'sstaff pierced her stomach.

"Brainless weakling!" Carmilla with force - and even some pleasure - turned her staff, making Bathory sob from pain, and then retreated the moment when the girl's spear fell down, "Worthless!"

"Go to hell, witch!" - Cried out the bloody Lancer, grinning, - "At your age isn't it dangerous to do such tricks? Be careful or you might break something!"

"You little bitch!" - Assassin rushed this time, but this time Lancer was prepared. Carmilla jerked away from the spear, but it still plunged into the woman's chest, instantly ripping open a furrow.

"Ha-ha, look! The blood did not help you become either more beautiful or stronger!" - Bathory smirked, then sharply waved her spear, cleansing the blood from it.

"What do you even know about me!" - Carmilla hit the staff on the ground, - "I was innocent! I was innocent!"

"You are a murderer!" - Elizabeth pointed her spear at Carmilla, - "You killed dozens of girls, you killed hundreds!"

"I'm innocent!" - Carmilla looked at Bathory with anger, - "They said that there is no other way! No one told me that this should not be done!"

"You need to be told that killing people is bad?!" - For a second, Lancer was speechless, after which she was completely furious - "You're sick! Sick old hag!"

"I'm only twenty-seven!" - Carmilla rushed forward.

"Don't lie to me!" - Bathory spat out an insult, - "You were fifty-one!"

"Shut up!" - Carmilla seemed to have lost all her reason - her movement lost all shine and gloss, turning into the movements of a wild beast. It seemed that the girl had ceased to pay any attention to Lancer's spear, trying to get to the girl.

"I'm not a damn serial killer!" - Lancer thrust the spear to the side, driving it into Carmilla's leg.

"You will become it!" - Carmilla finally reached Lancer, but she, instead of panicking, unexpectedly bowed her head - after which she plunged her horns into the body of Assassin, causing her to gasp in surprise.

"Never!" - said Lancer, after which, letting go of her spear, plunged her fist into Carmilla's face, after which Assassin managed to retreat, - "Never! You could be a great singer - but chose to become a monster!"

"Singer?!" - recoiled Carmilla, sighing, and then looked with anger at Bathory, - "everyone said that our voice is terrible! Idiot!"

"Well, let me prove that they were wrong!" -Lancer grinned smugly, and then stepped back.

"Bathory Erzsebet!" - a second later, it seemed as though from the earth itself, towers instantly began to rise. Carmilla was able to recognize them instantly.

"Cachtice Castle," the Assassin was instantly able to realize when the towers rising from the ground began to supplant the buildings of the city, destroying them in their path, "You decided to use my castle against me?! My house?!"

"That's not all!" - and only at that moment Carmilla could understand what kind of horror awaited her. Her ancestral castle was disfigured - what she initially mistook for towers was not that. These were gigantic…

"Subwoofers?!" - Carmilla recoiled for a second, after which she looked at Lancer with sincere misunderstanding, for a second getting rid of her anger, - "This is the most idiotic Noble Phantasm that I have ever seen."

Lancer was offended by this for a second, but still continued. She owned two Noble Phantasms - and now she wanted to use both.

"And now - the main performance from the greatest of divas!" - pompously said Lancer, after which her blood boiled, - "Kilenc Sarkany!"

In a sense, it was possible to call Carmilla the true Elizabeth Bathory. It is impossible to prove whether her acts were truly as they were presented in court. Whether Elizabeth Bathory was truly a murderer in history is impossible to prove. However, this is how her image entered the legend - the bloody Countess Bathory. She remained in human memory as just that, and therefore the Servant was born - Elizabeth Bathory, Carmilla, the bloody countess. However, there was no memory in people's memory of another Bathory - a young girl who wanted to become a singer, arrogant and childishly cruel, but still an ordinary person. And therefore, Elizabeth Bathory, Lancer, was not destined to appear.

However, stories about Sarkan remained in the story. A powerful dragon, capable of controlling the weather with his voice and possessing incredible strength.

While Carmilla was "Elizabeth Bathory, that went down in history", Lancer became an innocent girl who was distorted by rumors about her, turning her into an incomprehensible monster that bears signs of human rumor. In most other cases, this would make Elizabeth a demon, however the only trait that was known allowed the unbelievable to happen.

Elizabeth Bathory was very fond of singing, no matter how badly she did.

And therefore an incredible event turned the girl instead of a demon into a dragon. However, even her family, Bathoyi, according to legend, descended from dragon-killers, did not allow her to become a real dragon, instead turning it into a person wearing the seal of human rumor, reflected in the form of dragon features - horns and tail.

Such a force gave Bathory a lot of power, which she could use to attack or to create a Noble Phantasm - which Bathory took advantage of.

And she sang.

Unfortunately, her inconsequential singing abilities and the legend of Sarkan did not allow her to really sing - and instead of a Phantasm like that of Mozart or the Phantom of the Opera, the girl simply shouted.

With a volume of a thousand decibels.


The Phantom of the Opera evaded the next spell, after which he moved closer to the mage. The stamina of the musician were running out - but still, he tried to avoid imminent death, due to which the claws of the Phantom of the Opera stuck in his chest instead of his neck, after which with one movement split Caster's chest, causing him to breathe intermittently from pain.

"You're getting weaker," the Phantom smiled. Of course, he was also wounded - but unlike Mozart - completely superficially, having paid for the numerous wounds inflicted on Amadeus with torn clothing and several bruises mixed with burns.

"I know," Mozart answered calmly. His strength was really running out and that was true.

'Come on, come on!' He cast a glance at Bathory in the distance 'Come on!'

The next second, the blades pierced the caster, forcing him to hiss in pain as he lost part of his abdomen.

"Come on, come on!" - The Phantom of the Opera triumphed at the moment when his blades pierced the musician's body again, - "Come on, come on! Give me the last moment of your life! Give me your death! Give me death for my Christine!"

'Yes!' - in the end, the mage exclaimed nevertheless, when the distant battle of Bathory stopped and the towers slowly emerging from underground lifted above the battlefield - 'Finally!'

After this, Mozart froze and the Phantom of the Opera's blades finally reached their goal, ripping the musician's heart, making him freeze for a second, and then fall to the ground.

"Ha ha ha ha" - the Phantom burst out laughing, stretching out slowly, claw after claw, hand from the body of the mage, turning it into an ordinary human palm, - "I won! Of course, it could not be otherwise - my Christine gave me victory!"

The Phantom of the Opera laughed, and then glanced at the body of the defeated opponent," Finally! Finally, damn musician - now your words will no longer poison my mind!"

"Not really," a voice suddenly sounded in Assassin's head. "Let me tell you something else."

The Phantom of the Opera froze, and then turned in the direction of Caster - but instead of talking, Assassin saw only his body, under which a pool of blood spread.

"This body is dead," Assassin felt as Caster grinned with a smug smile. "But I still have some time."

"What the hell have you done ?!" - The Phantom froze in misunderstanding.

"You yourself let me into your mind," Caster said smugly, after which the Phantom froze.

"You fled in horror!" - Assassin said immediately.

"Oh, I really didn't expect such horror in your head," said Caster. "But that doesn't mean that I was unprepared."

"You?!" The Phantom turned to Caster's already dead body, looking at how his pupils slowly became clouded.

"You see, such is the life of God's Child," smiled the mage in his head, "I hear too much. The steps of the soldiers kilometers from me - the flapping of the wings of a butterfly - and the music coming from each person. Archer's lingering call, the brave motifs of Cu Chulainn, the pure acapella of Mari... And even your crazy whispers turning into white noise. I knew that I could not control your mind - but still I entered there."

The Assassin froze in shock, after which he looked at the already dead Mozart's eye.

"Now, let me finish our battle," Mozart said calmly. "Look to the left."

The Phantom looked away to see the huge structure towering above the battlefield - and the girl who was at its very top, just like the singer is in the middle of the stage.

"The girl's singing is terrible," Mozart said with a sigh, "This violence against the miracle of music is even worse than your voice. But at the same time, one ability gives me the opportunity to determine the forces that are associated with art - even if her singing can be called art only conditionally. And thanks to her singing, I knew that she will use this particular Phantasm. Even if in the end it's just a scream."

The Assassin fell silent, realizing that he had fallen into Caster's trap.

"And my curse is that I hear everything much more clearly than any other people" - Mozart sighed - "So let me use this power as my trump card. After all, all music submits to me - so let me take away the strength of the Noble Phantasm of Elizabeth for myself."

Assassin finally realized what was Mozart's final gambit.

"So, convincing me that you don't know my mind you got into my head," Phantom of the Opera said it calmly, "After which you left part of yourself inside, to later use the Bathory's scream amplifying her cry a thousand times - after which, pour it inside my mind."

"Thank you for explaining this," Mozart smiled, and then sighed, "By the way... Two minutes forty seconds. I managed even faster than expected. "

"Now I understand," Phantom of the Opera finally said, looking respectfully at his dead opponent, "Why Chevalier called you the most dangerous of all."

"Thank you for such a high appreciation of my abilities," Mozart smiled. "Now, it's time to die."

The next second, the phenomenal cry of Elizabeth Bathory burst out of her throat - however, that voice that was supposed to be an all-sweeping wave was drowned out. To be more precise, it was instantly absorbed by the power of Mozart, which intensified the Phantasm a thousand times more - after which the remnants of God's Child were scattered, allowing the final cry to sound in the head of the Phantom of the Opera, instantly destroying his entire body to the very last atom.

Caster, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and Assassin, Phantom of the Opera, perished.


Elizabeth Bathory used her Noble Phantasm, but Carmilla, preparing to use her Phantasm for protection, froze at the moment when instead of a monstrous scream she heard only silence.

Somewhere in the distance, cries of people and wyverns were heard, spells were uttered and exploded, blades grated and buildings collapsed - however, it seemed as if Elizabeth Bathory's voice had completely disappeared.

Lancer exhaled to the end, after which her Phantasm was scattered with sparkles and the girl slowly sank to the ground, after which she opened her eyes, waiting to see the destruction created by her voice. However, instead of seeing the ruined streets and her older version buried under the rubble, she only looked at it uncomprehendingly.

"But how?!" she said instantly. She felt that her Phantasm worked! Her voice was to turn into a barrage, blowing everything in its path, into a hurricane whirlwind, smashing stone and steel with equal ease.

"How could it-HAH!" - Lancer froze in place when the tip of Carmilla's staff pierced her chest.

"You weren't even able to use your Phantasm, weakling," Carmilla said disgustedly, then shook Lancer from her weapon, "You are simply a mistake that should not exist."

"Hah..." said Lancer, after which she grinned at Assassin. "At least I don't leave this smell of oldness behind me."

Carmilla, instantly furious, hit the girl with a heel, but she only gasped, and then grinned, "Weak... Are you getting old?"

Carmilla brought her staff for the final blow, after which an unexpected blow made her fly off a couple of meters.

"Lancer, you idiot!" - instantly someone grabbed the girl's body, - "Don't you dare to die!"

"Oh, come on, Kiyo," the girl smirked, no longer distinguishing what she saw in front of her, but recognizing her friend by voice, "It will be easier without me."

"Lancer, you idiot!" - Bathory was sure that in different conditions Kiyohime would accompany these words with a blow of a fan, but now the girl's hands just lifted her from the ground, - "Don't dare to die so easily! You haven't paid it off for all the time that you got on my nerves!"

"Heh," Bathory smirked, feeling her strength leaving her completely. "You can get all your revenge in the next life."

With these words, Lancer, Elizabeth Bathory, died.


Chevalier slowly rose from the ground, realizing that he had lost this battle. Lost completely.

With a sigh, he tried to lean on his left foot - however, a sharp bout of pain told him that it was broken. After that, he tried to lean on the right - after which it, with a vile crunch, broke, forcing him to fall to the ground and grin.

"Okay, okay," Chevalier smiled, looking at his opponents approaching him. "I acknowledge your victory, ladies. I lost."

"I will not trust your words, even if my life would depend on them," Medusa took the last step to Saber, and then took out her blade, "But I will give you the opportunity to utter your last word."

"Thank you, lady, you are so kind," Chevalier smiled, after which he reached for his sword. Medusa brought the blade, but he slowly raised his sword, and then stuck it in the ground, using it as a support, slowly rising, - "Do not worry. I lost this fight, even I can admit it."

After this, Chevalier turned towards the city, where other Servants still continued to fight, and slowly raised his blade.

Medusa prepared for the jump, but Chevalier just turned around, grinning.

"Don't worry, lady," d'Eon smiled. "This time I'm not betraying you. Fleur de Lys: Profusion of Hundred Flowers, Dance of Lilies!"

The next instant, Chevalier's blade lit up with white light - after which it scattered with a bunch of sparks, after which Chevalier's body shone. However, neither Medusa nor Mashu were the target of the last, strongest of Chevalier's Phantasm's. This time, they saw neither divine beauty, nor radiance, nor light — nothing blinded them and made their minds clouded. The goal of the Chevalier Phantasm was the Servants of the Witch.

Caster, who fought Serenity, suddenly froze - after which Assassin, obeying the Master's plan, instantly rushed away from him. Archer froze, letting the other Archer go on the offensive. Sanson stopped, ceasing to attack the two dragon-killers. Carmilla froze with her scepter brought in to strike at Kiyohime. Even the many wyverns suddenly stopped, allowing Cu Chulainn to exterminate dozens before they could budge.

Chevalier's first Phantasm was a charm ability that allowed him to move. The second took away his ability to act, instead giving him the opportunity to stop many opponents at once. The third was the strongest of all, because he was able to act on any number of enemies that Chevalier designated. And at the same time, the third Phantasm demanded the largest payment from him.

Chevalier's body, like dry leaves, was caught in the wind, which began to slowly destroy him. Slowly, Chevalier's body turned into a divine radiance, absorbing the mind and eyes of all his opponents, forever imprinting in their minds a beautiful view of the most beautiful of people.

"Who are you really fighting for, Chevalier?" - Medusa took the last step towards her opponent, forcing him to smile.

"For France, lady," he sighed and looked at her. "Who else can I fight for?"

Mashu took a step towards Saber. He was an enemy, Hassan died because of him, because of him many of their plans were destroyed, Archer came under the control of the Phantom of the Opera - all of them were in danger. But still…

"Thank you," Mashu said this, making Chevalier just a little grin.

"Oh, thank you, lady," d'Eon turned his eyes to Mashu, "For making Chevalier's life so unforgettable. Now - please hurry up. This Phantasm will act only until my body is completely dispelled. And you worked wonderfully - therefore, I did not have much strength left to maintain it."

Mashu just nodded at this, and then rushed forward. Medusa followed her — however, Chevalier did not see this — instead, he devoted all his strength to maintaining his final song.

The army passed him — he no longer saw how the gates were open, how the soldiers faced the undead, how the Servants took advantage of the opportunity that had opened up for them, and how the battle continued.

In the end, Chevalier felt that the final moment of his play had nevertheless come.

His Phantasm faded and the battle spun again.

"Well then..." Chevalier smiled at his distant enemies, feeling that his whole body had been turned into pure light and he had only a few seconds left. "Thank you for watching Chevalier d'Eon's life. My Queen, I'm sorry - I hope that we will meet in another life."

With these words, Saber, Chevalier d'Eon, turned into the last ray of light - and disappeared.


Eye of the Mind (True): EX

The holder of a skill of this rank, in fact, cannot lose. No matter how the situation turns out and in whatever conditions the holder of this skill is in, he will always be able to turn the situation to his advantage, find a way out of any hopeless situation, use another ability created specifically for this case, or turn to his artifacts with the most suitable effects for the situation. In this case, this is not even the skills responsible for the ability to analyze a situation or use one's own experience, how much the possession of an incredible ability in any condition to be always be ahead of one's opponent, no matter how perfect his adversary's plan or how great his abilities. This skill does not make the user invulnerable and does not mean that any plan created will be ingenious, nor does it mean that any battle of the Servant will be carried out by creating an ideal trap designed for the enemy - it simply means that, in fact, any situation in whose chance of victory for the Servant is zero percent - he will still be able to surpass any conditions and remain the winner.
 
Chapter 27: Orleans: Continuation of the fight
Chapter 27: Orleans: Continuation of the fight

At the moment when Caster stopped moving, affected by Chevalier's Phantasm on his mind, Serenity only hesitated for a second, after which, immediately taking advantage of the distraction, she rushed away.

Caster, powerlessly frozen, as if struck in awe by the first time he saw the sunrise, only managed to think this last thought.

"Damn you, Chevalier," he sighed, feeling his mind sink into the captivity of Saber. " I had every reason not to trust you..."

After that, Caster's gaze was lost in the beauty revealed to his mind. It seemed to him as if he had once again found himself there, far, so far...

It was as if he again was slowly leading his horse through fields of wheat, and in front of him was his Jeanne. Smiling, she casually held her banner with her left hand, brushing the bangs from her forehead with her right, trying to stay on the horse moving forward. And Gilles himself smiled at her, looking at how the girl was trying to act as an adult and to be strong, to appear in the eyes of the soldiers following her, as a symbol of the victory of France. It was as if he again was now moving to the camp, where he would have to slurp a pot of disgusting camp soup, and then, hiding it from Jeanne, pull out a bottle of wine from the cart, which he hid just in case. It was as if he was waiting for a long planning of the attack again, and then a sound sleep until the next day, after which he would rise again in the morning. He will smile at Jeanne, who woke up early again, after which he will invite her to a nearby field, where he will train her to fight with swords. Of course, in the end he will win, but not strike the last blow - Jeanne herself admits defeat - after which Gilles will begin to teach her the correct stance, and then - the right hit.

As if he was reliving the distant days of his life ...

Chevalier's Phantasm stopped unexpectedly - as if at some moment Gilles suddenly realized that distant memories were only memories - and now he was here. He fought under Orleans, again. Again with Jeanne, but now...

Caster's shoulder suddenly echoed in pain, forcing him to grab hold of it- and discover the blade. The small dagger used by that Assassin. While running away, she nevertheless took the time to throw poisoned weapons at him. And that meant only one thing.

Gilles de Ré, the Caster of the Dragon Witch, was dying.

No, he would not die now - even if Assassin was dangerous, like her poison - it would take a long time before he died. However, he will inevitably die.

Caster looked at the monsters he had called. During the battle with the girl, many of them died - many parts of the bodies, cut up tentacles and dead carcasses of monsters lay around him, sometimes languidly twitching in their death throes. However, none of the monsters that were injured will survive. Not even a couple of minutes.

Caster was a Servant - he was much more powerful than his summoned monsters, and the dose of poison that he received with the attack was minimal. But still he will die soon. That was a fact.

But not so soon.

Caster smiled.

But not as soon as his enemies would hope.

At that moment, the earth shook beneath him, after which the monsters called by the mage, the thoughtless monsters, suddenly began to look around, and those who only thoughtlessly pulled the tentacles began to twitch their whole bodies, as if trying to escape from Caster's magic.

Slowly new tentacles began to rise from the earth, however, instead of the expected dozens, hundreds pushed up, almost merging with each other into a single forest of hungry hands rising to the sky. The monsters, previously under Caster's control, were taken up by tentacles, which dragged them inside an ever-growing lump.

He used his Phantasm earlier - but the full strength of such an ability took time to activate.

The tentacles began to wrap around Caster, as if merging with his body, until the whole body was buried under a huge multitude of black and purple hands.

The mass took shape gradually, turning from a ball of tentacles into a single form of a giant monster. A huge monster, as if born from a nightmare, consisting of tentacles flowing into each other and flickering between them multitudes of always hungry mouths.

Then, at the moment when the monster was fully formed, Gilles, who became the likeness of its heart, grinned, slowly turning to the Servants who continued to fight, watching the army burst into the open gate, slowly clearing the way to the castle.

He will die, of course. It should be so. For his sins and for his deeds, he will go to Hell.

But before that, he will fight for Jeanne. Just like then.


The monstrous roar made all the combatants pause for a second.

Almost all, to be precise.

Kiyohime continued to look at the body of Lancer, who died in her arms.

Berserker's head was empty.

Why was Kiyohime called into this world?

This question was asked of her by Ainz at their first meeting and Kiyohime dismissed him.

But once she had heard this question before.

From herself.

It was strange - for faraway France in distant times, the legend of Kiyohime had no meaning - it had no fame. In fact, her summoning should not have taken place. Neither her appeal, nor her appearance in this world, created around one impossible event in a distant country on the other half of the earth, should not have been.

And yet she appeared in this world.

Why? It was difficult to answer this question. Perhaps the Holy Grail was to blame, or perhaps the will of the world. Perhaps someone intervened in the measured course of events and made Kiyohime appear where she never existed - it was too difficult to answer.

But Kiyohime was not supposed to appear in this distant time, in this distant place, in this distant world. But still she appeared.

And unlike many other Servants who arose in this world that fought for the Witch, or against her, she did not appear in the center of events, wanting to protect people or allow the Witch to rule these lands. She was called up in a distant village, on the very outskirts of France, alone, not understanding anything, empty and wandering senselessly through this wrong world.

She did not need rest or food, did not have a Master and should not have fought. She was not needed here.

So she just walked. She traveled the strange world days and nights, looking at the living peasants, fighting soldiers, dying monsters. Without any meaning or hope. Just walked, looking at it all.

Until one day she met a stupid girl. Loud and catchy, terribly noisy and annoying, with two horns and a tail peeking out from under her skirt, she demanded that she be allowed into the most luxurious inn room without charge, after which she was served hot water, a hearty dinner and a clean bed.

Back then Kiyohime didn't like her at all - and this was the first time that Berserker used her fan as a weapon, hitting it on the girl's head, silencing her from surprise at first - and then causing her to scream at Berserker, trying to defend her insulted dignity.

Kiyohime answered her the same way - and they first got into a fight. Without her Phantasms, Kiyohime had low chances - however, she was able to, by sheer chance, knock out the girl during that fight. Then, when she was convinced that Lancer was still alive, Berserker passed on.

A few hours later she saw a red spot blazing with hatred, approaching her. Then they fought a second time.

This time, Lancer won. Kiyohime remained lying down, and Lancer stood with a grin over her, telling her that she was a dragon, so victory was natural for her.

After that, Kiyohime became furious and used her Phantasm, after which Lancer lost again.

After that, Kiyohime left the girl and moved away. And at night she saw the girl approaching again.

She told her that as two dragons they should stick together with each other. Kiyohime then first told her that she was just a fake dragon and set off. Lancer did not remain far behind.

So they passed the day - Lancer screamed, sang and in every way irritated the nerves of Kiyohime. Kiyohime first tried not to react to her, then sometimes she began to hit Lancer with her fan when she was especially unbearable. And in the end, she came to the conclusion that if Lancer gets on her nerves, then Kiyohime has every right to answer her the same. And endless insults from Berserker rained down.

Lancer was angry, screaming, getting on her nerves twice as much, threatened to beat Kiyohime again, but did not leave. And then kept walking next to Berserker.

So they walked, foot in foot, all this time. How long have they been going this way?

When she walked alone, she counted every second that she lived. Six days eight hours twenty seven minutes forty two seconds. The time until her meeting with Elizabeth Bathory.

How much later? Kiyohime did not count. They walked with her around this world, wandering unceasingly from city to city, for so long... Weeks? Months? Years?

They met recruiters from the Witch, fought with her monsters, encountered robbers, tried to travel the world...

And now, Elizabeth Bathory, annoying, stupid, brainless, with zero hearing and voice...

Died.

Just died.

Kiyohime could not understand this.

"Stupid girl," Carmilla said this, shaking off her stupor, after which she glanced at Bathory's body, and then at Kiyohime.

"Yes," Kiyohime said this, looking at Elizabeth.

So long together, so many nerves wrecked by each other, so many quarrels and insults...

"Yes, she's a stupid girl," at this moment, as if just realizing what had happened, Kiyohime felt something wrestling her mind for control over her body. And she did not want to resist this, so instead she turned to Carmilla, looking at that one with almost pity,- "But you are a dumb bitch."

Carmilla was taken aback for a second, after which Kiyohime realized that she had lost control of her body.

"Tenshin Kashou Zanmai," she smiled a crazy smile, "Samadhi Through Transforming Flame!"

In the next second, a blow of incredible strength almost swept away all the buildings standing nearby, turning the street instantly into a cluttered wasteland.

Caster's monster froze at that moment, glancing at the sight that opened to him.

The fire, so hot that it burns with a blue flame, descended to the earth, taking shape. A huge, clawed paw emerged from the blue flame, immediately crushing the buildings next to it like a house of cards, after which the second, destroying everything that was left behind. Then the third and fourth - after which the huge wings cast a shadow over the entire city, forcing the Servants, who had already glanced at the appearance of Caster's monster, to freeze again, looking thoughtfully at the next giant monster that just appeared in the last minute.

After that, the long neck that made the dragon look like a snake stretched out of the fire, carrying the dragon's face, with two pairs of white horns on the sides of its head.

After that, Kiyohime lost her mind and did not respond to what her mind was saying. But even if she still retained control over her body, her actions would not have changed. Because her mind screamed only one thing.

'Burn them!' her mind screamed, 'Kill them all!'

And Kiyohime was happy to obey.

A stream of flame instantly struck, burning hundreds and thousands of monsters in its path. Carmilla tried to rush away - however, she instantly noticed that she was not even the target of the attack. The dragon's tail, long and flexible, like a snake, swept her from its place, throwing her away like unnecessary garbage, throwing the woman hundreds of meters away.

After that, the dragon turned his gaze to the giant monster, in the center of which Caster was still located - and Caster could swear for a second that the dragon smiled.

And rushed to the most noticeable goal.


Archer continued to strike blow after blow. The other Archer continued to defend herself as best as she could, but Chevalier was right - in close combat she was much less dangerous than in long-range combat. Of course, when they fought before,the female Archer, knowing her weakness, did not allow the enemy to approach her, keeping him at a distance - but after the Phantasm of Chevalier she lost the initiative to Archer, fighting almost completely defensively.

"How dare you call yourself an Archer if you fight with swords?" the female Archer knew about this fact, so she tried to compensate for her weakness even if just verbally, but her opponent was not so easily provoked.

"How can you fight for the Witch?" He retorted calmly, after which he sharply swung the blade, forcing the girl to hiss in pain and back off again, pulling the bowstring of her bow.

"I can understand why the Phantom of the Opera agreed to work with her," Archer said calmly, "I can understand Sanson or even those Servants who died long ago - Dracula and Lancelot."

After that, the girl shot, but at this distance it was not difficult to predict the attack path, so Archer easily dodged it and continued striking with his two blades at the same time.

"I can't understand Chevalier," Archer said calmly, "But that's a given, I suppose, I don't think he can be understood so simply."

"But without knowing anything about you, I can only judge you by your behavior," Archer struck once more, but this time his opponent was able to block the blow by substituting her huge bow for a sword, "And you do not look crazy, loyal or so absorbed in the prospects of ruling the ashes in place of this world. So tell me, why are you fighting for the Witch?"

"Is not enough reason that she is my Master?" The female Archer grinned viciously, and then backtracked again. Archer chased her like a hunter chasing prey.

Somewhere in the distance came the cry of the monster of Caster, to which Kiyohime, turned into a dragon, answered with a volley of fire, after which the angry roar gave way to a painful howl.

"It would be enough if you showed even a drop of loyalty," Archer continued to attack. He was not particularly interested in finding out the personality of his opponent, however, by conducting a dialogue there was a possibility that she would give out information about herself - besides, this distracted the enemy from the battle, so he continued the offensive.

"What do you want to hear from me ?!" the female Archer fired again. The arrow could have pierced Archer through - but fortunately, he stepped aside from the attack.

"Everyone has at least some justifications for their actions," Archer continued the attack, forcing the girl to jump again.

"Okay, so be it," The female Archer sighed. "And what do you want to hear from me ?! I fight because this is the only way possible!"

"Really?" Archer said this while at ease, delivering another blow. This time, the blade still reached her body, causing her to scream in pain, "The way to what?"

"To salvation," the female Archer answered, after which she tried to hit Archer with a shot — but he managed to get away from the attack.

"Another Saint?" Archer scoffed at that, "Too many of them being gathered..."

"No, I'm not a Saint," she jumped away, and then again and again, trying to gain distance, "But if I can save the children of this world, I'm ready to sacrifice everything that I have."

"Save the children by supporting the Witch?" Archer arched an eyebrow. "An unconventional method."

"You won't understand," the female Archer sighed, and then attacked again. "Take a look at this world. Is this the world that the children need? Is this the world in which they should live? If the world around is trash, then why should we make them suffer? Tell me, Archer, are you really so cruel?"

Archer sighed. He had nothing to answer to such an exclamation, but he slowly learned the facts about his opponent, so after delivering another blow, he was forced to continue, - "And what do you suggest? Burn those children who already live in this world so that they do not suffer? Don't you think this is somewhat... A cruel act?"

"Sacrifice one to save a hundred," the girl answered with a shot. "Isn't this the right action for a hero? If this world is destroyed, then children will not have to be born in this damned place full of pain and suffering."

Archer - actually, both Archers believed that the Hero's vocation was to sacrifice one to save hundreds. However, such a thought - to destroy the world so that evil had nowhere to happen - was for Archer - a man like Archer - somewhat... Counterproductive.

Archer sighed, and then attacked again - but his opponent did not jump away this time. For a second, he wondered why, after which the enormous mass of Caster's monster that swept behind the girl made him understand why.

"They are having their fun" - Archer noticed this when he saw a monster collapse nearby, after which a huge dragon stuck his teeth into it. Of course, Caster was strong - his monster was very strong - but against a real dragon, against Kiyohime, he was nothing.

"You have a very bad understanding of what Buddhism is," answered Archer, after which he dodged the girl's shot. This time, however, he nevertheless managed to get to her - having failed to retreat, the female Archer suffered under the blow of Archer, so that he was finally able to slash her hand. The girl screeched and jumped back.

"Enough talk, Archer!" - in the end, she came to the conclusion that she couldn't win in any other way, "Let's get this over with!"

Archer nodded, then rushed forward. The girl was an Archer, so it would be most logical to assume that her Phantasm was a long-range attack, she would not shoot at herself.

The girl, however, did not interfere with his attack, grinning instead, and then put her hand on her bow.

"Phoebus Catastrophe!" - the next second, two arrows in the girl's hands lit up, after which, instead of firing at the approaching Archer, she suddenly lifted her bow to the sky, firing both arrows into the sky, causing them to disappear with two solar flashes.

"Ah, so that was the reason for this talk about children," Archer sighed. "Atalanta."

The girl did not react to this, immediately stepping back, fleeing from Archer's blow - but he was in no hurry to pursue her.

"Well, if we have already reached the point of using Phantasms," Archer sighed, "I am the bone of my sword..."

A second later, the Reality Marble of Archer was imposed in reality, turning all reality surrounding him into his own world. Unlimited Blade Works.

Instantly, it was as if the whole city was covered with a shroud, as if in a second it had turned into the fields of forgotten wars and thousands upon thousands of battles, lost and won - but nobody cared about their results. Just a lot of battles - distant and meaningless.

The power that Archer possess gave him the ability to reproduce any blade that he had ever seen and knew. However, instead of the blade itself - it was only a copy of it, albeit only a little but still inferior to the original. And at the same time, Archer's strength and Phantasms was not embodied by a single blade or even a multitude of blades. It was his forge for blades.

A Servant's Phantasms were only capable of being used when used with a certain level of infused Mana. Too little - and the Phantasm will not activate. Too much - and the Phantasm will break. Almost all Servants have the ability to use their Phantasm with a strength even greater than what was originally intended - however, all that would accomplisht only one thing. That their Noble Phantasm will be destroyed.

Therefore, Servants are only incredibly rarely, almost never resorted to this ability. But not Archer.

Archer could reproduce thousands of copies of blades that were slightly inferior to the original. However, he could use them as never before by their original owners. Unlike the heroes, Archer could afford to squeeze the maximum out of the heroes' weapons, allowing it to collapse from overload. Because the strength of Archer was not in his weapon, but in the forge, that could produce weapons. What difference does it make if you lose your weapon if you can regain a new one, exactly the same, after only a second?

However, Atalanta's Phantasm was not only two arrows shot into the sky, so when the forge of Archer's swords took its place in this world, a distant midday sky suddenly flashed.

It was like a storm in the middle of a clear sky - after which it was as if a clap of thunder resounded in the ears of all the Servants and soldiers below. The sky, illuminated by a bright flash, instantly turned into the color of the sun, then flared up, striking a thousand lightning strikes down. Although, they were not lightning at all.

Thousands of arrows, shining white like God's wrath, struck down from the sky.

This was not one of those Phantasms whose power is easy to control - it was an attack aimed at the whole area. It was easy for them to hit the target - but only because the target could hardly dodge the thousands of arrows that hit the ground at the same time,arrows blessed with the strength of Apollo and Artemis. Therefore, Atalanta could control the target of this attack, hoping to catch Archer - in this Atalanta was successful. However, this did not mean that she planned to do this initially.

Not far away, Caster's monster just made a mournful howl when Kiyohime, turned into a dragon, pressed it into the ground, and then raised her eyes to the sky, only to see God's inevitable anger hit the ground.

The Rain of thousands of arrows found its target - after which hundreds upon hundreds of blows dug into the body of the dragon, causing Kiyohime to roar in pain. However, this was not enough to stop the attack.

The arrows struck with cruelty, tearing apart the flesh of the dragon, piercing the skin, damaging the scales and breaking its wings, causing Kiyohime to howl from pain. However, the rain continued and continued, with all the menace in the world striking blow after blow.

Archer did not see this, seizing the opportunity he had, and then instantly hit Atalanta. This time there was a blade in his hands - the legendary Gram sword that was recreated by his forge - and from just one blow the girl was thrown away, like a weightless fluff.

This time, the girl was thrown tens of meters - punching through walls and roofs, she fell to the ground, and then rolled over several more times, stopping at the very end. After a second, she got up again - this time looking at Archer not with hatred, contempt or misunderstanding - but with some respect.

"Perhaps you are strong," she finally admitted, "However, you will never be worthy to be called Archer while fighting with blades."

"In that case, let me fix it," the blade in Archer's hands disappeared, after which a bow and arrow appeared in his hands. However, although his forge could create copies of other kinds of weapons - it was not a bow from legends at all, like the other blades he created - it was a regular bow, albeit excellently made. The next second, Archer shot an arrow - however, Atalanta easily dodged the attack, as if the shot was not intended for her at all, after which she looked at Archer with a sneer - "You are a failure of an Archer."

"Perhaps," Archer allowed himself a grin this time.


The arrow crashed into a stone pavement, causing Cu Chulainn, who was finally distracted from the extermination of the wyverns due to the coming of the army, to stand still.

"What the fuck is this?" Caster extended his hand to the arrow, and then with a slight pressure palmed it.

An arrow. An ordinary arrow - Cu Chulainn was not sure what kind of arrow it was, but it was the most ordinary of arrows.

"And where did it come from?" Caster twisted his head around. As far as he knew, there were no archers among the dead in the service of the Witch, and no one in the French army wanted to kill him with an unexpected attack. Of course, there could be Servants - however, the only Archer among the Servants of the Witch - as well as among the Servants of Ainz - would hardly have missed when trying to attack from afar - and both of them were busy with their battle. At least the storm that arose from the sky, which overwhelmed Kiyohime, was a confirmation of this, as did the swords archery of Archer.

"And what is it then?" - Caster looked at the arrow carefully, after which he tried to look for the two fighting Archers. Fortunately, they were not far away - Cu Chulainn managed to see both Atalanta dodging the attacks and Archer chasing her - "Wait a minute, in Archer's hands - is that a bow?!"

Cu Chulainn, of course, joked that he was not an Archer in the literal sense of the word, if he continued to fight with swords - however, this did not mean that Archer had to use a bow if it was a weaker option. Yes, and Archer himself would not have chosen this option for no reason. So why?

The cry of the wyvern distracted Cu Chulainn - however, turning to his opponent, he saw how Medusa pushed herself off the roof with an elegant jump and ended up in the sky - after which she kicked the wyvern into the pavement.

"I'll take it from there," answered the girl to Caster, and then turned around. Cu Chulainn nodded in appreciation, after which he returned to observing Archer.

After a second, a detail caught his eye - another of Archer's arrow fell off the bow, but this time it plunged into the pavement not so far away, where now the wounded Kiyohime, who had already turned back into her human form, continued to lie, and where Bathory died. For a second, Cu Chulainn thought for a moment, after which he realized something and looked at Archer.

'Damn you, Archer!' Cried Cu Chulainn mentally, 'And if I hadn't noticed it?!'

Archer in the distance only smirked.


The battle with Sanson was not progressing at all in the way the two dragon-killers might have hoped. The Assassin was not particularly weak on his own - however, having turned into a chimera fused with Fafnir, he became only stronger. However, the battle with a stronger opponent was not new to the dragon-killers - the problem was from a different source.

"No attack affects him!" Siegfried exclaimed, fending off another blow from Sanson's monstrous cleaver. Rider only nodded, attacking from the other side - however, Assassin burst out laughing and grabbed Rider's blade, injuring his hand, after which he jerked sharply to the side, easily throwing Rider himself.

Sanson was injured - however, this was nothing compared to the injuries of Siegfried and Rider. Both of them were wounded - not even looking at Siegfried's armor, not looking at Rider's defense - it seemed as though they had been passed through a meat grinder. Their armor was twisted and crumpled in many places, blood continued to gush through numerous holes, while the Assassin only continued to brandish his weapons in all directions, completely unoccupied with wounds.

"Are you really so weak?" Sanson laughed, striking another blow with his monstrous blade, "Come on! I was hoping you would set us free - but no, Siegfried, you are weaker than I remembered you!"

Siegfried avoided another blow, after which he tried to attack, but Sanson only got away from the blow, "Isn't it difficult to fight when your opponent is not so huge and slow, huh?!"

"You don't say," Siegfried sighed intermittently, catching his breath, which caused Rider to attack.

The merger of the Servant and the dragon was disgusting - but effective. Having gained the power of a dragon, Sanson could fight with both Servants on equal terms with only brute force and speed, and at the same time, since he was protected from the weakness of being a dragon - most of the tactics and abilities of both dragon-killers were now useless.

Even when Chevalier's Phantasm made him freeze - the Servants hardly managed to do more than inflict a couple of wounds. Even the attempt to cut off Sanson's head ended only in a long, narrow, bleeding - but not at all dangerous wound on his neck.

"How weak you are!" Sanson swung for another blow. "And we lost to you in the past, Siegfried?" How weak we were then!

The next blow fell on Saber, almost drove him knee-deep into the ground, after which Rider had to attack again, distracting Assassin, who gained strength beyond even a Berserker.

"It is impossible to fight him in this form," was Rider's only conclusion at the time when his next blow was fended off, "Even if he were a dragon, the battle would have been much easier."

"Well, let's show us why you are called murderers of our kind!" Fafnir grinned in Sanson's body. "Why can't you even fight us?!"

"Siegfried, distract him!" Rider stepped back, not allowing Sanson to follow him.

"Distract us?" Sanson burst out laughing, even for a second interrupting his attack. "Why distract us?! We are happy to fight Siegfried ourselves!"

After this, Siegfried, who had just freed himself from the captivity of the earth into which Assassin drove him into with a blow, instantly parried the next blow, allowing Rider to retreat to a distance.

Heck, he did not plan to use his Phantasm in this way!

"Abyssus Draconis!" He finally said, pointing to the enemy, "In my name, in the name of Saint George, I announce that your nature will now become visible to our gaze and your evil will be revealed to this world! Amen!"

For a second, Sanson froze, ceasing to attack Siegfried, allowing him to take a breath.

"Saint George!" Sanson turned to Rider, "There it is! That's whose smell aroused hatred in me! Of course, the famous dragon slayer himself! Siegfried, you know how to pick allies for yourself!"

Siegfried tried to attack, but Sanson, completely unconcerned, only put his hand against the attack. Siegfried's blade instantly crashed into his hand, almost cutting into bone, but the extent of his attack ended there.

"Well, it looks like I now have no choice!" Sanson suddenly jerked his hand, almost tearing the blade out of Siegfried's hands, "Fine, fine! Let's drop the masks!"

After this, Siegfried stepped back, making Sanson twitch again.

"Fine! Excellent!" - as if Assassin's body continued in getting cramps, forcing him in unimaginable poses, changing his voice, turning it from a mad human to an animal roar, "Come on! Set us free!"

In the next second, clothes tear, after which part of his cloak swelled, after which a huge hand - no, a dragon's clawed paw - hit nearby, demolishing the buildings with ease.

Somewhere in the distance, rain of arrows fell on Kiyohime, burying her underneath it, after which Caster's huge monster began to turn into black slurry, freeing the body hidden inside - however, the two dragon-killers did not care.

"Excellent!" Sanson's words were almost impossible to make out at that moment, when the second hand was transformed into a clawed paw and the face of the person began to turn into the face of a monster, "Great!"

After that, as if someone had pulled the last switch - and in an instant, Assassin's body exploded in seething flesh, taking the form of a dragon.

Rider got to Siegfried at the moment when the dragon nevertheless issued its roar, at the moment taking on its true appearance.

"Now he took the form of a dragon," George calmly remarked, forcing Siegfried to look at the dragon from the bottom up. "Has it become better?"

"Not really," Saber said. "Now I can't even see his head."

"What are we going to do?" George asked calmly.

"The same as before," Siegfried answered no less calmly, " Try to kill him."

The next cry of the dragon stunned both Servants, after which both of them noticed how a huge cross on the dragon's chest shone at the moment when it began to draw in air.

"When he was a Servant, he would at least not spit fire," said George, after which both rushed away.

At such a distance, dragon's breath would fry both of them, so they should have avoided the attack. However, at the same time, if they had not taken the flame upon themselves, the fire would have hit the other fighting Servants.

Therefore, it was a stroke of luck when, at the moment before the dragon exhaled, a small shadow darted towards them.

"Lord!" The girl managed to shout, putting up her shield, after which the second part of her sentence was drowned in the roar of a dragon, breathing out its flame. Fortunately, the magic of Mashu's shield managed to block the flow of flame, becoming an invincible wall that arose on the enemy's path.

"Mashu!" Siegfried remarked to the girl, at the moment when the stream of flame of the dragon died out and a new roar of the monster shook the earth.

"I'm here!" The girl rushed to the Servants. "What should we do with him now?!"

Siegfried raised his eyes to the huge monster, which was already preparing for a new attack, after which he looked at George. He, catching Siegfried's eyes, only nodded.

Siegfried exhaled and looked at the girl. "I have a plan."


Archer continued to attack. Atalanta continued to avoid it. Unfortunately for her, Archer was winning this confrontation.

This time, he was no longer holding Gram in his hands, but Caliburn, that at the moment with every blow that didn't hit the opponent's body, was destroying the walls of the houses that get under his blade and destroying the environment, crushing stone with the ease of a hot knife through butter.

"Damn you, Archer!" Atalanta exhaled, then stepped back. Archer did not respond to that, only continuing to advance.

In fact, Archer's opponent was driven into a corner - she could only retreat without the ability to even try to attack, expecting how her life could end with the next blow. Yes, Atalanta was stronger than Archer in terms of parameters - but Archer outpassed her many times in terms of skill, because of which, even her seemingly complete superiority could not even force Archer to slow his advance.

Atalanta was legendary - she was one of the Argonauts, a great archer of Ancient Greece, a pupil of Artemis and Apollo herself, saved from death in childhood. She vowed to serve them and she dedicated her victories to them...

"Fuck you, Archer!" Atalanta dodged another blow, barely having time to remove her head from the blade, "Why the hell are you even fighting with swords?! Do you even understand what the essence of the Archer class is?!"

"What difference does it make if it works?" Archer answered almost melancholically, almost shrugging his shoulders, and continued to attack.

'Damn, damn, damn!' - Atalanta was thinking about how she could get out of this situation. She had the opportunity, she had another chance, another Noble Phantasm - but the damn Archer did not even give her a chance to use it, forcing the girl to run away, as if like a scared beast, fleeing from the hunter.

'Damn him, I'm first in running!' The girl almost bit her lip in frustration. She left so many men like fools forcing them to lose on the run - was it really now that she had to lose?! Damn it, it wasn't even a race to determine the worthy of being her man - it was a battle! In the end they will kill her, damn it!

Fortunately for the girl, however, the roar that rang out at that moment distracted the fighters, forcing them to look for a second at the picture of a rising dragon that had appeared before them.

"Kiyohime?" Archer thought for a second, but before realizing that the new dragon had nothing to do with the girl, Atalanta managed to seize the opportunity.

'Damn you, Sanson, and damn the Witch for this magic - but it turned out to be useful!' - the girl instantly reached for the hide, all this time waiting for the right time, then, at the moment when Archer rushed to her, she used her second Noble Phantasm, - "Agrius Metamorphosis!"

The next second, Archer, who carried the blade for the attack, was nearly demolished by a blow of magical energy that spilled out at the moment. The black, cursed mana instantly permeated the air, turning it into a viscous black whirlwind, as if created from pure evil - after which, after a second, Archer received a blow of such strength that pain and awareness of receiving damage came to him only when he flew a dozen meters through the air.

Fortunately, Archer was able to catch himself, after which he sighed and reached for his ribs. Six is broken, a lung is pierced - but in the general picture it is not so scary.

A second later, a creature appeared in a huge hole in the building that was made by Archer's body.

Of course, the features of Atalanta could still be seen - however, now she looked like a werewolf. Her gaze was insane and even her pupils was changed, turning into beast like ones - a slow-swaying film of black energy covered the girl's body, looking at which Archer could instantly understand that it meant nothing good.

"The skin of the Calydonian Boar," Archer instantly recognized the Phantasm, after which he glanced at Atalanta, "The great archer, whose most famous achievement was not even made by her..."

Atalanta attacked - however, this was not because Archer's words agitated her. At the moment, her mind was clouded, so she hardly even heard his speech - and it is unlikely that she could understand it. She rushed at him precisely because her mind was clouded - the situation had finally changed. Now she was a hunter - and Archer was a prey.

"An archer who does not use a bow is not worthy of being an Archer," Archer prepared to strike, quoting the words of Atalanta, "What a hypocrisy."

After a second, the blow crashed into him, it almost sent Archer on the next flight, forcing him to be driven back a little on the ground from the forceful blow, after which the next knocked the ground out from under his feet - and the third one crushed him into the pavement so that he barely managed to use the blade for protection.

'Good,' Archer sighed and sneaked a glance at the square where a second arrow was stuck into the ground, 'It will be harder than I thought... I hope Cu Chulainn will not let me down.'


Kiyohime slowly opened her eyes, looking at the situation in which she was now. To her right lay the remains of a monster that she had destroyed while she was in transformation, slowly spreading out in a pool of black slime. Caster was not among the remains.

"He escaped after all..." - the girl remarked to herself, after which her body responded with pain. Of course, the wounds received while in the form of a dragon did not disappear - and even if they became less dangerous after the transformation - the amount was such that Kiyohime understood that her regeneration could not cope with it in any case.

Somewhere in the distance, a dragon's roar rang out - and the girl looked at the bulk of the monster.

"Sorry, we won't be able to fight as two dragons," the girl sighed, and then turned her gaze to the left.

Bathory's body lay to her left. Her body had already begun to crumble with sparks, so the girl knew that Lancer was dead. And Berserker herself did not plan to linger on this world for long.

"At least I won't have to walk this world alone again" - the girl sighed and a slight smile touched her lips, after which she closed her eyes.

She did not know how much time she continued to lie so, feeling the strength leaving her before she was attracted by a sound.

"So this is what your saving of children looks like?" "Archer, the one whom she initially considered Anchin, was standing nearby. His condition was terrible - his right hand hung lifelessly, continuing to bleed, and there was no unharmed space on his body - multiple wounds and injuries covered him from head to toe. The left hand continued to hold a blade, which at the moment is pointed to his opponent. Kiyohime understood that she did not have long in this world, but nevertheless she shifted her gaze to his opponent.

There was almost nothing human in Atalanta - a film of black energy covered her body, not even allowing her features to be seen, and the small cat ears, which had added cutesy to her mind previously, now looked like animal atavism, which made the girl look like a werewolf. Even her gaze was full of bestial cruelty - however, for a second, when the gaze of Kiyohime and Atalanta touched - she suddenly saw it all for a moment - that her mind returned to her eyes.

"That's the price of salvation," the girl said it firmly, making Kiyohime smile. What a pity that she could not save anyone...

After that, Berserker, Kiyohime, closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

However, Archer continued to fight. Looking into Atalanta's eyes, he slowly turned his blade. "So what? Destroy the world to prevent anyone from suffering? I did not know that the ability of creating brilliant plans were included in the legend of the Argonauts."

"Let one suffer in order to prevent the suffering of hundreds," Atalanta slowly turned her gaze from Kiyohime to Archer, "Tell me, is this wrong? One or many, that's the whole question."

"Throughout my life I fight, killing one to save hundreds," Archer said as he exhaled, "But your approach... It's an insult to everything I fight for."

"I don't need your approval, Archer," Atalanta prepared for a new blow, "I only need victory."

After that, Atalanta moved - but she did not succeed. A moment later, the girl looked at the ground beneath her to see the runes around her.

"When will you learn," Archer said calmly, "Don't let your opponent talk in the middle of the battle. It seems to me that no one even respects this rule."

Atalanta looked at Archer in a panic. Runes?! But how?! Archer should not have such abilities. Other than…

The girl glanced to the side, only in order to see not far from Archer the mage responsible, that at the moment is lazily leaning on his staff, looking at the trap created by his hands.

"Do not allow any new suffering, Archer," said Atalanta at the last second.

"I'm sorry, but this story is not about me," Archer sighed, after which he lifted his blade and slowly put it on the bowstring of the created bow, aiming at the shot at a distance from which he could not miss.

After a second, Archer, Atalanta, was consumed by an explosion, which in one instant wiped her off the face of the earth.

Cu Chulainn approached after a couple of seconds, when the mana from Archer's shot dissipated in order to see how slowly Archer settles to the ground.

"I was well-battered," he said with a smile, after which he finally fell to the ground.

"Hey hey, Archer, let's not die here yet, huh!" Caster shouted at the archer.

"Ah, Cu Chulainn," the Servant saw, after which he looked at him, and that at the dragon, which made another roar in the distance, "Better deal with this one."

"They will be able to do it without me," Cu Chulainn grumbled, "I'd rather patch you up. Medusa showed me how it's done."

"Then take care of the little girl over there," Archer nodded to the side, where the weak but still living signature of Kiyohime could still be felt.

"Well, you are a bastard, Archer," Cu Chulainn sighed, moving closer to the guy. "That's how he added work for me. And by the way…"

At this moment, despite the fact that Archer was injured, Cu Chulainn, who was not restraining himself, punched him in the face.

"Did you fucking go mad to put such puzzles for me?" Caster looked at Archer with anger, "And if I hadn't understood what you meant?!"

"Caster, you're not as stupid as you try to seem," Archer grinned, and then fell to the ground.

"It seems now that I understand how you reacted to my compliment," Cu Chulainn sighed, but Archer could no longer hear him.

Archer, name unknown, fell into a deep sleep.


"Is it clear?" Siegfried glanced at his two allies, after which Mashu and George nodded in response, and then looked at George separately, "Then get started."

The plan was extremely simple - Mashu and George had to serve as bait, distracting the dragon - George had to attack and Mashu withstand a dragon's strikes, after which Siegfried would finish the job. This is a plan Mashu could approve of.

So a moment later, Mashu rushed to the side with George, leaving Siegfried behind. Five steps, ten, fifteen...

'Now George is supposed to attack' - the girl looked at the man next to her and prepared to take the dragon's strike.

Twenty, twenty five...

'Why isn't he attacking?!' Mashu looked at Rider, which seemed to be not paying attention to the dragon at all. The dragon, without even looking at the two running Servants, began to turn to Siegfried.

Thirty, thirty five...

Mashu stopped, "Rider, what the hell ?! We must help Siegfried."

"It's pointless," George said calmly, after which he picked up the girl and rushed away.

"What?!" Mashu was definitely quite surprised by this turn of events, "What are you doing?! Put me down! We must help Siegfried!"

"Siegfried cannot be helped," George answered calmly, "This is a dragon, a living embodiment of power, and not some boss from a computer game. He cannot be distracted by such a primitive trick, so our attacks are pointless - he would still continue to attack Siegfried."

"Damn it, Rider, let me go!" Mashu tried to break out of his grip, but she didn't succeed, "We have to help Siegfried!"

"No," George answered calmly, as if not at all concerned about what had happened, "Siegfried himself decided to stay and sacrifice himself."

"He didn't say that!" The girl jerked again in Rider's hands, forcing him to hold her tight.

"Of course, because in that case you would have decided to stay," George answered calmly.

"You tricked me into simply removing me from the battlefield!" Mashu would gladly point a finger at Rider, but she couldn't do it. "You're Saint George, defender of the weak!"

"And I protect the weak," George answered calmly, "Not the warriors who accepted their duty."

A second later, Mashu felt that the run had stopped and she was let out of his hands, but Rider just turned to Cu Chulainn, next to whom they turned out that he was slowly healing Archer and Berserker - "Cu Chulainn. Hold her."

"Don't," Mashu sighed. "I get it."

Rider, glancing at her, only shook his head, "I apologize for that."

"I understand," Mashu only shook her head and looked at Siegfried in the distance.

He, only smiling, looked at the dragon, who was very close.

"Well, Fafnir," he glanced at his opponent. "Let's finish this!"

The dragon, issuing its last roar, sucked in air, preparing to incinerate his enemy.

"Hah, I thought so," Saber smiled, then lifted his blade into the air. The cross on the dragon's chest flashed white light, after which the cross on the Siegfried's chest flashed with white light, "Balmung!"

After a second, as if a stream of whitish-blue flame is hitting the sky, cutting it into pieces - after which the incredible power of the dragon-slayer blade, freed from all seals, fell upon the dragon. The dragon, anticipating his death, released the last breath of his flame toward his killer.

A moment later, the Assassin, Charles Henri Sanson, Dragon, Fafnir, and Saber, Siegfried, were consumed by incredible strength in a flash - and were dispelled a second later.


Carmilla slowly felt her face. Despite the fact that she was now lying under the rubble, barely feeling her body - the first thing she was worried about was her face.

And her face was disfigured - the nose broken by Lancer's blow was still broken, her beautiful cheekbones were disfigured by wounds, her hair looked like a burnt rag, her lips were smashed, huge bruises were forming under her eyes - but this was the least of Carmilla's worries.

Her whole body was broken - her right arm was practically not felt, both her legs were broken and her spine was broken in two places.

They just didn't notice me.

Carmilla stopped at that thought.

They just didn't notice me.

Kiyohime did not even pay her any attention - she was simply swept and thrown away, like some kind of garbage.

Carmilla closed her eyes, trying to understand where she was.

The blow of the dragon threw her away like garbage, but this did not make it lose its strength. Carmilla flew many hundreds of meters from one blow, so breaking through the roof she found herself in the very center of Orleans, in the damned Witch's Palace.

Carmilla tried to take a deep breath, but her broken ribs dug into her lungs, causing her to cough.

Damn this girl, damn Bathory! Damn her friend, Kiyohime! Damn their Masters, the Witch, all of them!

The girl slowly tried to rise from the floor, but in an instant a blade dug into her shoulder, causing her to fall again with a hiss in pain.

"Who?" The girl glanced to the side only to see the poisonous girl there. She did not even pay attention to Carmilla, only rushing past her.

After all, now Carmilla was poisoned. Now she will die.

'No!' Carmilla wanted to yell from this.

'No, no, no!' - the girl grabbed her head. Not so easy! This is not the way her story should go! She can't die for nothing!

A thought pierced Carmilla's head. Of course, because if she is healed now, then she will not die! She can't die so easy! She will simply expel this poison from her blood!

But for this she needs blood.

Carmilla's gaze fixed on Serenity's back, which simply continued to run away, ignoring the already doomed Assassin.

Young.

Beautiful.

Girl.

The ideal goal.

"Phantom Maiden!" Carmilla used her Phantasm, after which an iron maiden, who appeared as if from nowhere, instantly extended her chains to Assassin. She tried to evade - but she was not given a chance to do so. A moment later, Carmilla's Phantasm pulled Serenity inside, then closed, piercing her with a multitude of iron spikes.

Carmilla burst out laughing instantly when she realized that she was able to survive again.

The steel spikes of the Carmilla's Phantasm didn't just pierce the body of their target - they plunged into the flesh and began to pump out the victim's blood, returning it to Carmilla, pouring new strength into her veins.

The girl slowly rose from the ground, feeling her wounds instantly heal. Yes, she could.

Serenity, absorbed by the Phantasm, was supposed to experience hellish suffering - it was an ideal target for Carmilla's Phantasm - so the girl is prepared to hear a scream of pain.

However, instead, only a quiet chuckle came from the iron maiden.

"What's so funny?!" Carmilla looked at her Phantasm. Her opponent was supposed to be in incredible pain now - Carmilla felt her blood pouring into her now.

"My body is poison," came the voice from the virgin - calm and even a little detached, "Perhaps you are the most inappropriate opponent for me."

"Girl," Carmilla sighed and smiled. Having regained her health, she acquired a magnificent mood - "I would never fall for this trick. Of course, my Phantasm can filter poison from your blood - do not rejoice ahead of time."

"What a stupid thing," Serenity's voice did not at all sound like the voice of a suffering person. In her life, during the training of Hashishin, she suffered much more pain, - "There is no poison in my blood. My blood is the poison. Zabaniya."

After a second, Carmilla's body exploded in pain.

Serenity's Phantasm allowed her to multiply the effect of her poison many times - therefore, Carmilla, who had already filled her body with liters of blood of Serenity, felt in an instant, as if her whole body had been ignited by incredible fire. She was not so wrong.

Serenity's venom was not like the poison people make - it was a special, incredibly strong mixture, for which there was no antidote or a safe dose, so Carmilla, who let whole liters of poison into her own veins, felt how every cell of her body instantly died.

A moment later, the withered body that was left of the Assassin, Elizabeth Bathory, crumbled to dust.

Her Noble Phantasm crumbled a bit later, allowing Serenity to take a step forward. And fall to the ground.

"Bad," the girl stated. The fact that she could not feel pain did not mean that she became much more powerful - therefore her body, bloodless and tormented by many thorns, could not move on.

The girl closed her eyes, - "I hope I did it."

"Thank you, Serenity," after a second her Mast... her husband's voice came, "You did everything right."

"This is nothing, my husband," the girl smiled at the moment when a hand touched her head and ruffled her hair, "You have done much more for me."

With a smile from these words, the Assassin, Hassan of Serenity, died.

Ainz, having run a hand over the girl's head for the last time, rose from his knees, "Forgive me, Serenity."

After that, the magician turned back, - "Forward, the Witch is waiting for us."

Jeanne and Gilles, teleported with Ainz, only nodded, forcing the magician to nod and head forward.

The last and most powerful of reinforcements have arrived.


Eye of the Mind (True): EX (Case)

If we take into account only Satoru Suzuki, a person and a player, then he would still have a similar skill at the level of A rank. As a person who spent years in battles, albeit virtual, Satoru possesses an incredible wealth of knowledge regarding tactics and strategy, immense knowledge in the field of understanding opponents, special abilities of many different creatures, but the creature known as Momonga - or Ainz - reinforces this skill to incredible heights, incomprehensible to the simple mind.

Ainz is a being who surpassed divinity, existed before the birth of the world of Yggdrasil and after its end, a being who reached the heights of skill and killed gods and demons for fun is the whole story of his existence. In the world of Yggdrasil, a world devoted to the battle with countless many of the most incredible opponents with abilities exceeding human understanding, there is not even a couple of dozen living creatures that Ainz did not kill. Ainz is a kind of special killing machine, sharpened to destroy millions of types of opponents, prepared for all possible and impossible conditions, repeatedly crushing creatures so ridiculously powerful that their mere presence can distort reality and destroy worlds. In other words, Ainz is a perfect mechanism of victory.

However, victory does not always mean the ideal planning or execution of the plans.
 
Chapter 28: Orleans: Continuation of continuation of the fight
Chapter 28: Orleans: Continuation of continuation of the fight

After the teleportation, Ainz took a few steps forward a little thoughtfully.

The plan seemed perfect to him.

First of all, he had to send his Servants and the army to attack the Witch, watching their battles from afar, studying their opponents and analyzing their abilities. Unknown Servants, possible hidden monsters of the Witch and, of course, Fafnir.

Ainz was not stupid - leaving the two Servants to fight with the arriving dragon, he first established observation with the help of several of his spells, in order to finally get information about his opponents.

And he was shocked to learn that the dragon summoned by the Witch was Fafnir. The Fafnir.

In Yggdrasil, there were several types of opponents that you can fight - ordinary mobs, players,and bosses - all of them differed in their abilities and powers, up to the point that some players, such as World Champions, could defeat three or even four level one hundred players in a battle, and some bosses were so weak that they could lose in a battle with even to some of the mobs in the game. However, in any case, there were three categories of opponents game-wise. And lastly there are World Enemies.

Throughout the game, there were only thirty-four named World Enemies. The final boss of the game, the World Eater, the final opponents of the three additions to the main game - the Twelve Seraphim of Sephiroth, the Seven Lords of Mortal Sins, the Five Rainbow Buddhas, a special opponent added to the five-year game - the Lord of the Seventh Heavens. And the Eight Great Dragons.

The World Eater was the final boss of the game and the most powerful of all possible opponents in the game, and in order to add additional significance to him in the eyes of the players, even in order to get to a fight with him, the players were forced to go through eight of his strongest subordinates, the Eight Great Dragons, each of which in itself was a World Enemy, requiring twenty to thirty players of the hundredth level even to attempt a battle, not to mention a victory. Each of these dragons was an incredibly powerful opponent with a large number of special abilities, various advanced tactics and many unpleasant surprises that awaited anyone daring to oppose them in battle. Eight different dragons, each of them was unique and extremely difficult to defeat, each of them had its own significant place in the lore and required a huge amount of quests in order to be able to fight them, so each of them was remembered by all the Yggdrasil players.

One of these dragons was the Dragon of the Primeval Force, the Golden Dragon - Fafnir.

To say that Ainz was shocked at the first sighting would be an understatement - his suppression of emotions had to be activated three times at the moment when he found out that his opponent was the Fafnir himself.

Of course, Fafnir was not the strongest of all the dragons, and he was extremely inferior to the World Eater - the creature that Ainz had once killed in battle - but he remained a World Enemy - in other words, a battle with less than twenty trained players of the highest level, with the right equipment and full knowledge of the fight was suicide.

Therefore, Ainz's plan formed quickly enough. If he cannot defeat Fafnir, then he simply will not fight him.

Ainz had to use the Servants as a distraction to get Fafnir out of its lair - and with the help of the army he could track down other possible opponents that the Witch had saved for the last battle - something stronger than wyverns and skeletons. At the same time, Serenity had to use her Presence Concealment in order to avoid the battle with Fafnir and arrive at the Witch's castle, so that Ainz could directly teleport to the Master who had summoned the dragon and destroy her before Fafnir got to him. When Ainz made the plan, it seemed perfect to him.

After Ainz along with Jeanne and Gilles separated from the army, the magician began to watch how his Servants entered the battle with the enemy, waiting for Fafnir to appear. The Servants should have acted like this: taking their opponents on opposite sides, they should have given Ainz the opportunity both to observe Fafnir's battle and to distract it for a longer time.

Of course, the army would really perish in a battle between the Servants simply from random attacks, but this was only the official version. In fact, Ainz needed the Servants to disperse throughout the territory, after which, when Fafnir appeared, the dragon should begin to hunt the Servants; their separation would increase the time it would take it to hunt the remaining Servants. Ainz knew that even he would hardly survive if several of Fafnir's blows lands in his current body, so he suspected that most of the Servants would die from only one dragon attack - therefore, the distribution of the Servants over the area seemed to him the most logical, since in this case it would force Fafnir to move around the area, taking away most of his time, not because of the battle with the Servants, but because of the time he needed to get from one target to another. During this Ainz planned with the help of Serenity, without being distracted by the battle, to go straight to the Witch and destroy her before Fafnir could get to him. And so, the plan has been implemented, and...

Fafnir is dead.

The Dragon managed to fight with two Servants, even three, should he count Mashu - and killed one. After which he died.

Of course, Ainz watched Siegfried's Noble Phantasm, its strength - it was definitely a very strong special ability, with additional damage against dragons, so Ainz believed that it could kill even a level eighty dragon with one strike - maybe even a level ninety.

But World Enemies were above levels. No ability could one shot them.

Ainz knew a few stupidly powerful attacks, spells, skills that could kill even the most powerful of the bosses, such as the Lords of the Worlds, with one blow - he himself possessed several similar abilities and many more items, disposable and not, collected in the game and received thanks to in-game gacha - however, there were no such abilities, even World-Class Items, capable of killing a World Enemy. Hurt? Impose restrictions? Neutralize their power? Yes, he had plenty of such and each player would have hoarded a dozen of such things. But there were no things that could kill Fafnir with one blow.

Balmung was a well-known blade in the game, and its use by Siegfried as a Phantasm was very impressive - but this would not be enough even to force the Golden Dragon to go into the second phase of the battle - and Fafnir had five of them.

Therefore, Ainz at the moment when Serenity nevertheless reached the Witch, was slightly... Perplexed?

Yes, that was the right word. It was not shock, denial, and not anger. It was the most sincere of perplexity.

"This is so... strange..." was all that Ainz could think, looking at the corpse of his Servant. Strangely, he was so prepared for the last battle and so afraid of Fafnir - and in the end, after he created a special plan in order to avoid a battle with FafnirFafnir was killed by a distracting maneuver. It was somehow... unfair, even.

Ainz continued to stand still and look at Serenity, whose body was already beginning to turn into pure mana.

Not that he became so attached to the Servants - how much time did they spend together? Three weeks. Three weeks is not enough to call someone a friend - just an acquaintance or colleague. Therefore, he did not experience any remorse, sending them into a trap for certain death. However, when he found out that the trap was not generally required, he felt... It was not a shame but rather regret - especially for the fact that he was wasting the lives of his subordinates, his collection, so… Ineffectively.

"Ainz?" Jeanne's voice distracted him. "We have to go."

Ainz just nodded at this and looked forward. Indeed, such thoughts should be left for a later time.

In the end, the magician moved forward - and two Servants followed him. Nevertheless, even if Fafnir turned out to be... not at all what he expected - he still had to get rid of the Witch.


The castle turned out to be quite a big one, so it took some time before the three could finally see the final doors.

"Throne room," Jeanne said clearly, forcing Ainz to look at the door again. Of course, it was a big door, so it could even be called impressive, but it didn't at all resemble the throne room in his Nazarick or even those that he saw in the game, so for some reason the magician only once again remembered the plan drawn up against Fafnir.

"Another Servant is approaching us," this time, as soon as they got a little closer, Gilles said this with all clarity. Ainz, a little thoughtful, only nodded.

"I will stop him," Jeanne instantly stepped forward, but was stopped by Gilles.

"Not worth it, Jeanne," he smiled, "I will do it. You have a meeting with the Witch ahead of you, and I... I think I know what kind of Servant this is."

"Gilles, but!.." only the girl tried to object, but Saber shook his head.

"Don't bicker with me," he answered with a sigh, "Believe me... It is me who must meet this Servant."

Jeanne, having waited a few seconds, only nodded and smiled, - "Good luck, Gilles."

"Of course, Jeanne," he smiled, "If you wish me luck, then I cannot lose."

"Yeah, good luck," Ainz answered as if his mind was absent. If you think so, then all this time he was so afraid of the Servants... No, of course, he knows that the Servants are the strongest of all existing opponents... That is, they should be like this, right?

Gilles just nodded, after which he turned and rushed away from the two.

"Well, this is it, Ainz," Jeanne smiled, touching the door. "Behind these doors lies the end of this war and these battles... Thank you for making this possible."

"Yeah, sure," Ainz answered, still lost in thought. After all, it still could not be so simple? Somewhere, after all, some kind of dirty trick was clearly hiding behind all of this...

Jeanne only smiled, and then pushed the door, opening the entrance to the throne room.

The throne room was deserted - torches did not burn on the walls and the candles were not lit at the chandelier. There were no flags on the relief columns and the absence of people made the room seem more like of an abandoned building. However, there was no webs on the walls and there was not even a layer of dust on the floor, as it happens with old, unused buildings, which made the throne room even more creepy. There were only three things throughout the room.

The first thing was the carpet. A red velvet carpet laid from the entrance to the throne that stood on a pedestal in the distance. The second thing was the throne itself - a cold, massive throne stood on a pedestal in the distance, towering as a crude mass of pure stone. There were no decorations on the throne itself — no carved curls, no ornaments, no emblems — the throne was just bare, cold, a stone block in the distance.

And the third, last thing in the throne room was the Dragon Witch herself.

Sitting on the throne, she was slacking a little on it, propping her chin in her hand, that was armored in a black plate glove. Her blade lay next to her, already drawn- black steel, not reflecting light, lay next to the girl on the second armrest.

"It took you a long time to get to me," the Witch said boredly, after which she looked at Jeanne, "But still, finally, you're here again. What is it like to be in Orleans again - now not to help the people, but to plunder the city that you defended?"

"This city was destroyed by you a long time ago," Jeanne took a step towards the Witch, glaring at her, "Even if I wanted to plunder it, there is nothing here."

"Oh," said the Witch, lifting her arm up from the armrest, "So, are you already thinking about plundering the cities of France, moreover, your beloved Orleans? Oh, it turns out, I didn't know much about you, o Holy One."

"I would say that you know nothing about me," Jeanne took a step toward the Witch.

"What a stupid thing!" The Witch grinned instantly, slowly rising from her throne, grabbing her blade, "Jeanne, we are one! I am you! Has your stupidity really reached the point that you are not able to recognize your reflection in the mirror?"

"We are not one," Jeanne finally said, taking another step to the throne, "You and I... I know, maybe we are alike. Maybe we have the same face and habits, the same stories and the same powers... But you are not me."

"Really?" The Witch stopped, after which she looked at Jeanne with amusement in her eyes, "Is it true, Jeanne? Or do you think that a Saint like you would be better than me? That you are so bright, pure and kind that human rumors does not concern you? Oh, Jeanne, then I have bad news for you!"

The Witch began to approach slowly, without even raising a blade for the battle - "Jeanne, we are one. Your pain became my pain - but when you humbled myself, I gave retribution. Your life became my life - but when you became weaker - I gained strength. Your memory became my memory - but when you were mistaken, I learned from your mistakes. Oh yes, Jeanne, we are not the same thing - I'm that perfect self who has outgrown you and became the real Jeanne d'Arc."

"And what have you become?" Jeanne, not sensing a threat from the approaching Witch, moved towards her, not raising her banner, which now hung lifelessly, almost touching the floor, - "A monster."

"The Saint," the Witch smiled, "The Saint that the people deserve. For betrayal, stupidity, cowardice... For my burning."

"So you became so because of your death?" - slowly, the two girls came close to each other, "If just one act of the people could immolate your soul so much, then it means that you have never been a Saint."

Finally, the two Servants came closer, standing opposite each other. One height, one face, one name. However, it seemed as if they were a crooked mirror reflection of each other. Black plate - white armor. Spear - sword. Long braid - short bob cut. Blue eyes - golden ones.

Two Jeanne stood opposite each other, looking at each other, as if trying to make out something from themselves in reflection.

"You lost," Jeanne finally said, "Your Servants, your dragon, your monsters - they are all defeated."

"Oh, are they?" The Witch only smirked, "I do not need them. Their whole purpose was only to catch you - but who would know that you would come into my hands yourself. I was waiting for our inevitable battle, o Holy One."

At this moment, Ainz, finally massaging the bridge of his nose, was distracted from his thoughts and took a step forward.

A crack, as if from broken glass, instantly made everyone present turn towards the white transparent barrier, towering above the magician. A crack ran across the barrier - after which it immediately cracked and burst, instantly disappearing.

'It was an activation of the barrier against espionage,' Ainz instantly recognized this, after which he turned his gaze to the Witch. Is this really the trap that he was waiting for?!

However, the Witch stood still, looking with interest at the necromancer. Ainz's barrier was designed in such a way that when it was activated, he sent a strong enough response spell, so that if the Witch used some kind of ability she would have been swallowed by an explosion - however, instead, the Witch stood in her place. Moreover, since Ainz additionally used on himself another defense against espionage, so that even when activating the barrier the enemy could not see anything, from his parameters or skills, even if the Witch could somehow neutralize his spell - she still had to at least be surprised. However, nothing was written on her face.

"Hm, mage," the girl looked at Ainz carefully, "I must admit, I already forgot about you."

This was quite expected, given that Ainz, lost in his thoughts, had already forgotten about the battle too.

"I really wanted to get to Jeanne from the very beginning," the Witch smiled, "But you must admit that I was surprised. You know, it was you who killed my strongest Servant, Dracula."

'Wait…' - Ainz felt his mind once again flipped in his head - 'Strongest?!'

"And in the end, you looked like it wasn't even hard for you," the girl grinned, "Indeed, you are a dangerous opponent. I will enjoy victory over you."

Ainz, completely ceasing to pay attention to what was happening, locked himself in his head, pondering what was said. Maybe she meant the strongest in a figurative sense? Or maybe ironic? For example, in order to hurt him, that he escaped strong opponents or something like that?

"However, I believe that now..." The Witch didn't have time to finish, as a flame spread over her whole figure.

"Napalm," the magician distractedly used the spell. After all, everything cannot be so simple, because there is obviously some kind of trap here...

The fire instantly consumed the Witch, causing Jeanne to jump away from the soaring column of flame. Ainz just looked at it with a in his eyes. If now he can so easily end the final battle...

"Ha ha ha!" - suddenly laughter rang out from the column of fire that had not yet fallen, "So, are you trying to burn me again? Ha ha ha! What a funny joke, mage! But know that your magic is nothing to me!"

A second later, the column of fire fell, again showing the Witch. However, she was not scorched - not even touched by the flame. Even her hair was not ruffled by the rising fire.

'Phew, what good news!' Ainz finally rejoiced. So the trap that Ainz expected was still there. After Fafnir, after Dracula turned out to be the strongest of the Servants of the Witch, after the wyverns, there was still some thing that made the Servants the strongest! Yes, for sure, the Witch took all their powers from Fafnir and the Servants in order to make herself strong - for sure, this is such a common trope! Naturally, here it is!

Finally finding a trap, Ainz's paranoia calmed down, allowing him to relax. Nevertheless, he found the reason why the Servants remained the strongest and were so... Whatever word he should choose... Not optimized for battle.

"Well, come on, now fight!" The Witch finally raised her blade, pointing it at Ainz. Jeanne instantly grabbed her standard. Ainz smiled. Finally, a battle that will show him that his fears were not in vain!


Gilles moved through the corridors and rooms of the castle, approaching his goal, which he felt as a Servant. Turn, turn, another turn...

Finally, Gilles was nevertheless able to turn out of the maze, and then instantly struck. His blade cut through the air, but before it could reach Caster's body, an unexpectedly strong gust of wind turned him aside, preventing Saber from finishing what he had begun.

"You!" Caster instantly recognized his opponent, and then jumped back. Saber, however, remained standing still, "to Hell with you, Gilles de Rais!"

"You don't need to talk about Hell, mage," the commander of the French army sighed, after which he looked at the magician, "Gilles de Rais."

Caster just looked at Saber. "So you did recognize me in that attack."

"How can I not recognize myself?" Gilles glanced at his opponent.

Now, when they were opposite each other, both of them were finally able to make out their opponent.

Gilles de Rasi, Saber, was a thin tall man, dressed in steel armor, holding his blade on his outstretched arm. Gilles de Rais, Caster, was a hunched, emaciated looking man, whose mantle hid the painful thinness of his hands holding a book lined with skin. Human skin.

"But you did not tell them who I am," Caster grinned, and because of his bulging eyes, his smile took on an insanely manic hue.

"I wanted to deal with you personally," Gilles said this calmly, looking into the eyes of his opponent.

"Oh, I will gladly answer to you your ardent aspiration!" the mage grinned.


Jeanne and the Witch continued to fight. The Witch struck blow after blow, putting Jeanne on the defense, and then brought the blade for the final blow...

Then Jeanne instantly disappeared from the blow. A second later, the Witch turned around at the last moment in order to have time to repel the spear directed at her back.

"Attack from behind, o Holy One?!" the Witch threw a grin at Jeanne, but although she tried to turn it into a mockery, her frustration and anger leaked into her voice, making her words more like an angry exclamation than an insult.

"Damn mage!" - the girl jerked to the side, moving away from Jeanne's attack, after which she glanced at Ainz, who was hanging nearby in the air. He tried to attack her several times, using different spells - however, none of them worked against her. Her defense against magic was enormous, almost absolute - there would be only a couple of dozen people in all times of the existence of the earth who could now overcome it with magic, so Ainz's abilities were ineffective. The Witch thought that this would be enough to win.

How wrong she was!

The Witch defended another of Jeanne's blow, after which a blade pierced her back.

"Devil!" She cursed, after which, in a sharp turn, she chopped off the head of the enemy who had attacked her from behind. This one looked like some kind of skeleton, dressed in armor, and was weak, but his attack still reached the Witch.

The Witch knew that Ainz was an extremely powerful mage, a necromancer, and therefore considered herself the most dangerous opponent for him. Possessing protection from magic and locking the necromancer in the throne room, where he would not be able to do his magic by raising corpses, she planned to make him if not useless, then at least harmless. She didn't succeed.

The bloody necromancer turned out to be an irregular necromancer. To raise the undead, he did not need the corpses of living beings - he could simply create undead from his own mana.

"Summon Undead: Fourth" - once again the mage raised his hand, after which the smoke from his hand fell down, taking shape. This time, the smoke rose almost twice as high as the Servant, on the move taking the form of an unknown creature, as if made from pieces of flesh sewn together, holding two huge hooks in both hands. After a moment, the creature gave a roar, and then rushed forward to the Witch.

'His mana is bottomless' - The Witch dodged another attack from Jeanne, after which she threw her aside and turned to the advancing undead.

A second later, Jeanne's spear pierced the Witch from the back, causing her to spit blood.

This was the damned second problem. Teleportation! Each time the Witch was ready to destroy her opponent, the mage simply teleported Jeanne somewhere to the side, often behind the Witch, after which she had to evade the blow herself. As soon as the Witch herself tried to attack him - he simply teleported away from her and continued to summon monsters and teleport Jeanne again.

Often, battles are won thanks to chance, due to the superiority of the enemy by only a few percent. It was not one of those battles.

The Witch rushed forward at the moment when an unknown creature hit the ground, leaving a huge hook in the arms of the undead, and then at the moment jumped up, bringing her blade in order to cut down the monster's head.

After a second, something hit the Witch, and the Witch fell to the ground. A second later, the monster plunged its hook into her, which he held in his other hand.

The Witch instantly grabbed the creature's hand, then yanked it onto itself, causing it to fall, covering the Witch from the next attack of Jeanne, after which she cut off his head with a blow.

Ainz in the distance only frustratedly lowered his hand. All that he used was a spell that inflicted physical damage. By creating a cobblestone flying at the enemy, that is. It was a spell of the third rank, Ainz did not even expect the attack to work...

'There must be some trap!' - the magician's mind shouted to him - 'This is one big trap!'

Looking at his opponent, Ainz decided that she had taken the power of her Servants and was therefore incredibly strong now. After checking her magical defense, Ainz determined that she could not ignore his spells thanks not to some specific protection from one type of magic or one element, after which he prepared for a long battle. He began to summon creatures of a level at which his mana regeneration would keep his mana from dropping even one point and was prepared to slowly study her abilities and attacks, looking at how the Witch easily counters them. He even deliberately did not use any buffs in order to preserve his mana, and subsequently use the most suitable for the battle with the Witch, but instead...

He was winning.

Ainz could not hide his misunderstanding of the situation.

"Wait a minute, this is a trap!" - the magician wanted to grab his head - "Surely, surely, in all this there is some huge trap that I cannot recognize!"

But the Witch was losing, that was a fact.

Ainz simply did not understand what had happened. At what point in time did his battle turn the wrong way?

Maybe the Witch wants to trap him? Or now is getting ready for some incredibly powerful attack? Now she will call many, thousands of powerful minions?

But this did not happen.

Ainz teleported Jeanne from the attack of the Witch, after which he glanced at the Witch. A rising aura? A black cloud emerging above her? Anything that could indicate the start of the second phase of the boss, a special ability?

There was nothing of the kind.

"Do you understand now?" Jeanne dealt another blow to the Witch. "You lost!"

"Damn you!" The Witch spat, "You are weak! You were always weak and are still weak! Only this damn magician saves you! You are nothing without your friends, without allies, without all of them!"

"But I found allies for myself!" Jeanne dealt another blow, parried by the Witch, "And who is fighting for you now?! Who wanted to fight for you?! All your Servants fought for you only because you summoned them - they fled from you, they betrayed you, none of them wanted to fight for you!"

"Shut up!" - the Witch became furious right after these words, - "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

She struck blow after blow, as if trying to shut Jeanne's voice up- "None of them fought for us! No one ever fought! They all betrayed us, they burned us, they continue to hate us! They always hated us!"

At that moment, Jeanne unexpectedly took her standard aside, allowing the Witch's blade to crash into her shoulder, almost cutting her arm, "So what?"

"What?" The Witch stopped for a second, not continuing the attack.

"So what about the fact that they betrayed us?" - Jeanne only looked at the Witch, "We knew that this would kill us. We knew that this would happen. So what? Is this a reason not to do a good deed? Is this a reason to hate them?"

For a second, Jeanne and the Witch froze together. Ainz thought for a second, but in the end still did not call on the next monster, instead glancing at the two girls.

"Have you really forgotten?!" the Witch suddenly became furious, but instead of continuing the attack, she only tore the blade from the body of the Saint, "Have you really forgotten the moment of despair when you realized that they would not come for you?! Forgot how in Orleans the King abandoned you?! Have you really forgotten the fire devouring your flesh?! How did your legs burn, how did you scream in pain, how did the flame rise through your body?!"

"I remember all this," Jeanne intercepted her standard, "And that is why you are not me. I forgave them for their deeds and outgrew my death - while you could not go further. You are stuck in the past and instead of looking into the future, you are left to endlessly experience your betrayal, savor your execution and look at your mistakes. Therefore, you are weak, Dragon Witch!"

At this moment, Jeanne took a step towards the Witch, forcing her to step back.

"You and I — we never were alike!" Jeanne raised her standard, "Even though I didn't see what I became in the eyes of the soldiers and know what I really was a symbol of — but in me there is no evil of yours! There is no weakness in me! I do not have your hatred inside me - and therefore we, the Dragon Witch, have never been one! And so now we are fighting with you - and therefore you lost. Luminosite Eternelle - God is Here With Me!"

A second later, Jeanne planted her standard in the ground - and a light shone as if an angelic light illuminated her. It was as if the midday sun had pierced through the arches of the castle and the palace, illuminating her face and turning the deserted and eerie throne room into a beautiful place similar to fields full of eared rye and blossoming flowers. Even Ainz suddenly felt the light illuminate him, as if he were a child again, meeting a tired but kind mother, glad to see him after a hard day.

Ainz felt his bottomless mana reserves suddenly begin to fill up at double speed and he saw how his parameters are growing.

A second later, Jeanne suddenly struck, while the Witch tried to parry - but did not have time. Until then, powerless against her, Jeanne suddenly kicked the girl back several meters, and then rushed forward.

This time Ainz did not even need to intervene in the battle - Jeanne fought the Witch on an equal footing. She struck, while the Witch continued to fend it off, but with difficulty. This time, the Witch was finally put into a corner.

Ainz, thoughtfully raised his hand to the Witch, - "Death."

It was a simple and artless spell of the eighth rank with a simple effect. It killed the target. Unlike the higher-ranking spell, "True Death," this spell could not prevent the resurrection of the target, but it killed with no less efficiency.

It was one of the most powerful spells that Ainz could use in the current body without the risk of its destruction. In the past, when the Witch's magical protection prevented Ainz from casting spells on her, the Witch might not have been afraid of this spell. However, now, at the time of Jeanne's Phantasm, his magical power has increased, due to which his strongest curse, which he could use at the moment, overcome the barrier.

The Witch stopped immediately, after which she looked at Ainz. For a second he saw in this look... Fear. Real fear.

After a second, the sword fell out of the hands of the Witch and she fell to her knees, and a second later, completely to the ground.

Ruler, Jeanne d'Arc (Alter), died.

Ainz remained in the air for another second, continuing to survey the scene from height, after which the morning sun shone slowly and Jeanne fell to the ground, dropping the banner from her hands. However, she was alive.

"Jeanne?" Ainz took a step toward the girl, but she only dismissed him sluggishly.

"I'm fine," she breathed, "It's just that using Phantasm in this state takes away... A lot of energy. Help Gilles."

Ainz just nodded, and then set off.

His paranoia continued to scream.


Saber continued to fight Caster fiercely, striking blow after blow, so that Caster only managed to force his monsters to the blows of the Servant.

"You are a monster," Saber pointed accusingly at Caster with a blade, "How could such a freak like you follow Jeanne?!"

"You are me!" Caster only laughed in response, summoning a new monster.

"Never!" - Gilles brought down his blade, and then killed the monster with one blow, "I was the hope and support of Jeanne! You betrayed all her ideals!"

"Never!" Caster answered him with his own words and burst out laughing, "I never betrayed Jeanne! I would go to Hell for Jeanne! I went to Hell for Jeanne - and returned!"

"You betrayed all her ideals," Saber attacked again and again, "Do you remember it? Prayer, daily prayer thrice. Grace, repentance, kindness. Do you remember her ideals to talk about them?!"

"The Lord does not answer prayers!" Only Caster laughed with an even crazier laugh. "And if the Lord does not answer my prayers, then I will make the Lord hear me! If he does not hear me from heaven - I will shout to him from Hell!"

"You're a disgusting monster who betrayed everything she fought for!" Saber dealt another blow, then rushed forward.

"How easy it is to judge this without having survived what I experienced!" Caster laughed only more, after which the spell he had created turned Saber's blade aside, "Do you know what despair is? What does it mean to be alone? What does it mean to lose your meaning of life? Do you know how it feels to lose Jeanne?! Hypocrite!"

Saber dealt another blow, aiming at Caster's neck, but the mage put his hand before the blow, allowing the blade to crash into his flesh.

"I lost Jeanne the same way you did!" - Gilles pulled the blade to the side, then retreated, dodging the blow of the so called monster, "But I believed in what she was fighting for! I fought for her, knowing that she was looking at me from the heavens!"

"Faith does not help with pain," Caster grinned, leaping back, calling for a new monster, "But knowledge... Yes, knowledge can lead you to what you want. You prayed every day - and did the Lord listen to you? Did he return to you Jeanne? Do you think forbidden books are so interesting to me? No, I studied those dark knowledge in order to make the Lord answer my questions - and you know what?! It worked! My Jeanne is here again with me! Even your Jeanne is only the result of my deeds!"

Caster sent a new spell, from which Gilles only evaded to the side.

"You are just an insult to all her deeds," Saber grabbed his blade with his second hand. "You betrayed everything she fought for!"

"If the Lord and his angels send me to hell, even if Jeanne orders me to be executed, I will be happy," Caster grinned. "Because it means that I will still have my Jeanne!"

"Death," Ainz's voice came instantly, after which Caster suddenly froze for a second, and all of his monsters, whose bodies had been strewn over the floor of the corridor, almost instantly exploded with a purple slurry, splashing Saber.

"Ainz!" He turned to his ally, seeing how he was slowly approaching, looking confusedly at Caster, "You are on time!"

"Yeah," he nodded absently, looking at Caster. "the Witch is no more."

"Great news!" Gilles smiled.

"I would not be in a hurry to say that," Caster said suddenly, slowly unbending. Ainz suddenly froze, "I cannot die while my Lady is alive... And as you can understand, she is still alive."

Ainz suddenly froze and his paranoia rejoiced.

"Jeanne!" Gilles immediately rushed away, leaving Ainz with Caster.

Both mages slowly looked at each other.

"Resurrection," the necromancer sighed. Of course, resurrection.

"Not really," Gilles de Rais slowly turned to the magician. "Nothing in this world is capable of resurrection. But to prevent me from dying, while my lady is alive... The Holy Grail is quite capable of doing this."

"The Grail," Ainz slapped his cheeks. Of course, they completely forgot about the Holy Grail! Of course, this is all the damn Grail's fault!

"Thank you, mage," Gilles could finally straighten up, "I didn't hope that I could..."

"Death," just in case, Ainz casted once more, making Caster freeze for a second.

"Damn it, I can't die that easy!" Caster answered after a moment of delay, "You could have killed any of the Servants, any of them — but not me!"

"Anyone?" Ainz asked a little disbelievingly.

"Anyone," Caster confirmed, "But to Hell with it, fight me! Fight, mage!"

"Anyone at all?" Ainz paused for a second, asking a question, 'That is, all those whom I avoided and who did not fight with, I could... Any of them? With one spell?'

"Yes!" said Caster, "Now shut up and fight!"


Jeanne rose slowly, leaning on her banner, after which she sighed freely, and turned around. Now she needed to find Gilles and Ainz...

"Le Grondement de la Haine," suddenly a voice came from behind her. Jeanne did not have time to turn around to it before several copies of chains pierced her body, chaining her in place. After this, the Phantasm stopped for a second, after which Jeanne felt someone bending over to her ear - "Indeed, I'm completely different from you. But I'm still stronger."

After a second, the flames that burned Jeanne d'Arc broke out.

It was a Phantasm, inaccessible to the original Jeanne d'Arc. For her, her execution, her burning was a symbol of her sacrifice. It was a flame that signified the price the saint must pay for his holiness. But there was nothing like that for the Dragon Witch.

It was a flame of hatred. The flame by which people burned her in a distant city on far-fetched accusations when her closest allies turned their back on her, when the king of France refused to redeem her from captivity. It was a flame of betrayal. Flames, from human evil and hatred. Anger, pain and suffering, converted into a form of flame.

After a moment, the flame soared to the ceiling, devouring the body of the Servant in seconds.

A servant without a class, Jeanne d'Arc, was burned.


YGGDRASIL - DATA_NOT_FOUND
 
Chapter 29: Orleans: End of the fight
Chapter 29: Orleans: End of the fight

The Witch watched as the ashes from her Phantasm slowly descend.

That's all that remains of Jeanne d'Arc, the Maiden of Orleans, Saint of France.

The Witch slowly reached out, catching the black ash left over from her ability.

What was this before? Something from a melted stone? From scorched armor? Or maybe that was all that was left of the body of the Holy One.

The Witch slowly lowered her hand, watching the black snowflake fall from her hand, twirling in the air, and then slowly raised her face to the ceiling of the throne room. And burst out laughing.

It was a deep, resounding, slightly angry laughter at the very limit of the Witch's lungs. A terrible mixture of a villain's bass laugh and the hysterical laugh of a madman who have reached his desired goal.

The Witch laughed and laughed, feeling how gradually tears came to her, slowly running down her cheeks.

The Witch laughed like the last time in her life, with a howling bass, unable to keep herself on her feet, she fell down, after which, lying on the floor, rolled onto her back and continued to laugh.

So long…

So long…

So long she waited for Jeanne. So long she tried to find her. So passionately she wanted to kill her.

And finally she did it.

Now Jeanne burned. Burned at the stake in the same way as back then. Now she felt the pain of the Witch, the pain of fire, the pain of betrayal, once again left alone, without her friends and allies.

She died.

The Witch's laughter turned into powerless howls, as if the person could no longer laugh, but still could not stop. Tears continued to run down the Witch's cheeks.

The Saint died. Died! Died!

Now she will no longer be tormented by this flame. Her mind will not be poisoned by her words.

She won.

The Witch sobbed several times, and then slowly rose.

"Jeanne!" Came a voice not far from the girl, and she turned her head, preparing for battle, after which she relaxed a little.

It was Gilles.

"Ah, Gilles," she smiled, then slowly rose from her seat, looking at the man. "Why are you in armor?"

Gilles did not answer her, only slowly grabbing his blade, looking at the place where the Witch executed the Jeanne.

"Gilles, since when do you have a blade?" The girl once again looked at him. No, something was wrong, it was not Gilles - he looked similar, but he was dressed in armor, a blade on his belt, no mantle...

The girl's thought was interrupted a second later, when the blade of Gilles de Rais, Saber, entered her stomach.

"Hah?" She stopped for a second, looking at the narrow strip of steel that pierced her through, "Gilles, what are you..."

Gilles did not stop, instead sharply pulling the blade and struck again. This time, the Witch, however, managed to turn up her sword and the silence of the throne room was broken by the clink of blades colliding with each other.

"Witch!" Gilles dealt another blow, immediately blocked by the Witch.

"Who the hell are you?!" The witch used her power to strike, pushing the guy back.

"Gilles de Re, closest associate of Jeanne d'Arc and defender of France," Saber dealt another blow. The Witch was bewildered.

"You're not Gilles!" The witch struck right after these words, "Gilles is my ally!"

"Your ally is just a miserable fake of the real me, the same as you are the fake of Jeanne d'Arc!" Saber dealt another sharp blow.

"Go to the Devil!" The Witch struck right after. Second Gilles?! There were two of them from the very beginning?!

"You will answer for your deeds, Witch!" Saber stabbed yet again. Under normal circumstances, the Witch could easily fend off his attacks and go on the offensive - Gilles was not the strongest Saber and therefore the Witch could easily fend off his attacks. In normal conditions, that is.

However, the story of Gilles de Rais was full of hoaxes, rumors and half-truths. Some historians considered him a famous patron of the arts, the richest man in France and the great commander who worshiped Jeanne d'Arc, for whom he had fought for throughout the war. However, the public perception of Gilles was not so clear.

Gilles de Rais was a famous associate of Jeanne d'Arc, but the story of Blue Beard was better remembered the people. The story of a crazy psychopath, a murderer of women and children, a maniac who practiced black magic, consorted with demon worshipers - and about the duke executed for worshiping Satan, who fell into madness after the death of Jeanne d'Arc.

It was the separation of these two stories that allowed Gilles de Rais to be embodied in the form of two Servants - the brave commander and savior of France, Saber - and the crazy maniac who wielded dark magic, Caster. However, just as Carmilla embodied the true legend of Elizabeth Bathory, Caster embodied information about the true Gilles de Rais. Not the one that actually existed - but much more famous and significant. Therefore, the appearance of Saber as a Servant was, although possible, unlikely.

Elizabeth Bathory was embodied thanks to her distant mythological relation to dragons. Saber did not have such a lineage y. However, he had a story that united two parts of his existence into one. After all, Caster went crazy and turned to the Devil because he lost his Jeanne d'Arc. And Saber fought for France because he believed in Jeanne d'Arc.

Unlike Carmilla and Elizabeth Bathory, there was a transition between Saber and Caster, which turned one into another. This transition was caused by Jeanne d'Arc.

It was the loss of Jeanne d'Arc that turned Saber into Caster, the murderer and the lost sinner, who lost his meaning of life. Madness was inside them both from the very beginning - the madness that put Jeanne at the center of their lives. And if Caster was the one whose madness had already swallowed his mind, then Saber was the one whose madness was closing in on him, waiting for the opportune moment. And so now it has awakened - and Saber felt his madness turning into his strength.

Therefore, his next blow nearly knocked the Witch onto his back.

"Gilles de Rais!" She tried to shout to the man, "I am your Saint! Back off!"

"You killed my Saint!" not listening, the man struck again, "You have never been my Saint!"

"Jeanne is dead!" The Witch struck again, crossing their blades. "That Jeanne is dead! Now it remains only me! You have nothing to fight for anymore!"

"Go to Hell!" Saber only attacked again. "Do you think that the death of Jeanne will stop the people who fought for her?!"

The Witch even slowed down for a second from this phrase.

"Jeanne is dead! The battle is over!" The Witch tried to repeat herself immediately. "Damn it, your Holy One is dead! "

"Bullshit!" Saber attacked again, with even greater fury. "We are fighting for Jeanne! For our symbol, for our victory, for what she believed in, and not for the human!"

"This is nonsense!" The Witch blocked another blow. "You lost! I won! Jeanne is dead! You have nothing to fight for anymore!"

"To Hell with you, Witch!" Gilles struck another blow, almost forcing the Witch to drop the blade from her hands, "Don't you understand?! The death of Jeanne will not change anything now. The troops are approaching you, your Servants are dead - you lost!"

"Surrender!" The Witch shouted completely off topic, almost perplexed, "Jeanne is dead! Do you hear me, Jeanne is dead! No one will fight for the dead! No one can fight for her now!"

"I only hear nonsense and rubbish from your lips!" Saber struck blow after blow, gradually speeding up, which forced the Witch to go into complete defense, "We fight for Jeanne — I fight for Jeanne! And her death only convinces me that I am fighting for the right thing!"

"You should have run away!" The Witch, in confusion, only shouted at Gilles, "When I fought, you abandoned me! No one saved me! No one heard my prayers! Fire - I still feel the fire devouring me, every second - I remember every moment of despair! You did not save me then - so why do you continue to fight for her now?!"

"Because I fight for the Saint, and not for you, Witch," Gilles raised his blade, but when the Witch was prepared for the next blow, but nothing followed. However, the Witch realized that she was getting to the finale.

"Saint War Order", - Gilles uttered the name of his Phantasm, - "Rally Upon the Holy Banner and Roar!"

The next blow the Witch tried to block, swinging her blade to the blow - and Saber struck down with his sword. Saber's sword, without encountering any obstacles, instantly broke the Witch's blade into many fragments.

Saber's Phantasm was associated with the Phantasm of Jeanne d'Arc. Saber embodied Gilles de Rais, a heroic warrior who fought for France - an associate of Jeanne d'Arc. And therefore his Phantasm embodied just that. Gilles de Rais, a hero fighting under the banner of his Saint. The moment he felt alive. The time when he believed in the miracle of the Lord. His distant battles for Jeanne and France, when he was not just fighting, he understood that he was fighting for God, for the Holy One, for victory. The moment he knew that under the banner of the Saint, he could not lose. And therefore, there were no barriers in front of him.

The Witch's blade crumbled from one blow, forcing her to retreat, looking at Gilles with fear, confusion and bitterness. Gilles took a step towards the Witch, pointing his blade at her, feeling the Angels of Vengeance speak through him.

"Why did you betray me again, Gilles de Rais?" Said the Witch, looking at Saber, feeling the bitterness begin to pinch her eyes, "Why didn't you save me then - and are trying to kill me now?"

"I fought for the Saint all my life," Gilles took another step, after which the tip of his blade buried itself in the girl's chest, "I never even wanted to know you."

A second later, the blade of Gilles de Rais pierced the heart of the Witch.


"Jeanne!" cried Caster.

"Napalm," Ainz used a spell that instantly burned Caster, frying him to the very bone, and then sighed. What stupidity, what stupidity, stupidity, stupidity, stupidity... So long! To avoid battles for so long because he believed that the Servants were stronger and in the end... Why?! Why did this even happen to him?!

"Damn you, mage, my mistress needs me!" Caster, regenerating the damage, rushed past the magician, but Ainz only sighed.

"Hold Species" - he used another spell with a sigh, - "Teleportation."

Caster froze for a second and Ainz simply looked at him. He couldn't even kill his opponent now. But hell, he could kill everyone else?! Really?! Damn it! How?! Would?! He?! Know?!

Caster could not even free himself from the shackles of his spell, so Ainz simply walked away to the wall, then leaned on it and began to slowly slide down, covering his head with his hands. He had a headache from all this news.

Caster just stood still, waiting for Ainz's spell to end.

Ainz was in dismay. Should he now apologize to all the other Servants? Or pretend that it was just as intended? Which of these was worse — to say that he made a fatal mistake, or to hope that the Servants would not find out about it later? After all, if one day they find out, then...

"And who said that they don't know about this ?!" - Ainz grabbed his head - "If they already know, then... I became a laughing stock in their eyes! I wasted my collection on such stupidity!"

Ainz did not even know what he should have done, beat his head against the wall or pretend that nothing had happened.

Finally, the spell of the magician ceased to work and Gilles was able to free himself.

"I know people like you, mage," he looked at Ainz seriously. "You play with your victim, not killing, and only giving them the opportunity to run away just to destroy their hopes, knowing that you can kill them any second..."

"Just shut up" - Ainz didn't even understand, he said it out loud or thought - "I'm sick of you."

However, Caster just looked at the magician, - "So, you understand the meaninglessness of this battle?"

"Death," the mage answered with a curse, forcing Caster to shut up for at least a second. Or maybe he should say that he was forbidden to fight for religious reasons? It will be strange, but understandable... No, then in the future he will also not be able to fight... What a bad situation!

"Damn it, my mistress needs me!" Caster recovered a second later, after which he suddenly froze. Ainz even rose from his thoughts a little in order to look at the mage.

"I lost control of Jeanne," the mage said in a frightened voice, making Ainz breathe. Well, he lost control of the Witch... Stop, what?!


The blade of Gilles de Rais entered the heart of the Witch, after which Saber abruptly pulled it out, causing the Witch to sprinkle a little blood and slowly took a step back.

"Gilles..." she said, looking at her faithful companion, "Why?"

"You deserve to burn in Hell, Witch," Saber only shook the blood from the blade, as if he had stained it with something, "For all your sins."

This is not the first time the Witch has heard this.

"For all your sins you will be condemned to be burned and I hope that you will burn forever in Hell" - these were the words of Beaufort Henry, Cardinal of Winchester, before she was executed.

"Why did you betray me, Gilles de Rais?" The Witch slowly raised her eyes to Saber, and he could see how slowly tears flowed from the girl's eyes, "Why do you always betray me? Why does no one ever save me? Why am I always left alone? Why do I feel the pain of fire, why, my friend, why?"

"I have never been your friend," Gilles de Rais looked into the eyes of the Witch and said these words.

The next second, the Witch fell silent, and then grabbed her head.

And screamed.

It was a scream full of pain, but not a girl's scream. It was the moan of a cornered animal.

"Why, why, why?!" the girl repeated like a mantra, "Why?!"

Gilles swung the blade for a last blow to cut off the girl's head, but stopped for a second. The Witch that stood before him was slowly losing its shape.

Her body seemed to slowly turn into black mucus,then starting to flow like melted wax.

Gilles swung his blade for a blow, and then with one blow cut the head of the Witch. However, the head of the Witch, cut off from the body, falling to the ground, instantly exploded into black liquid, like a huge drop, after which the whole body of the Witch instantly turned into black liquid, immediately spreading into one huge puddle.

But the voice did not stop.

"Traitors, they are all traitors," a voice was heard, as if from everywhere and nowhere, "They just want to make me feel pain... Every second they betray me, every second they burn me at the stake... They all just wish for my torment."

Gilles looked around several times, trying to find the source of the sound, before he nevertheless looked at the black liquid left by the girl.

The puddle continued to slowly foam and bubble, as if boiling, although the hall was very cool.

"All of them... All of them... All of them..." - repeated words were heard - "Traitors, traitors, traitors..."

Gilles de Rais retreated. He could not fight against this, so he had to retreat to Ainz. However, taking only a step, Gilles felt that his legs seemed to be bogged down in a swamp.

Saber glanced down to see how a black liquid stuck around his legs, forcing him to be absorbed down to his waist.

"Why, why, why..." - the voice continued, but Gilles only brought the blade and with a sharp blow chopped off the part that stretched from his legs to the pool of black liquid.

After a second there was a scream, a girlish scream, after which something threw Gilles de Rais away.

The black mucus that had covered Saber's legs before, slowly pulled itself into a puddle, which exploded again, and then shot in all directions with black streams that shimmer and are moving about while being scattered. Gilles managed to evade one of these, seeing these huge streams breaking through the walls of the palace, but he could not do anything else in this situation.

Black mucus boiled, slowly taking shape each and every one of the streams, after which it turned one into the other, as if growing out of itself, breaking all the laws of physics and logic, rising up, as if not obeying the law of gravity.

However, gradually the black mucus begin to take shape - changing over and over again, it became covered with scales, growing claws and teeth - before becoming a complete creature.

The huge black dragon was covered with scales that looked like spikes towered above its back, covering all the way to the tail. Teeth and claws, as if made from darkness that did not reflect light. Golden eyes which looked at the world with hatred.

A moment later, the dragon looked atGilles from his place, after which it struck him with his huge claws at a speed and dexterity that could not be expected from such a monstrosity, and then brought its face closer to Saber.

"Burn, traitor," came the roar from the throat of the creature, which was the Dragon Witch.

"I did not betray you," Saber only looked fearlessly into the dragon's eyes, "For I have never fought for you."

After a second, Saber, Gilles De Rais, was consumed by the dragon's flame.


Ainz just disinterestedly looked at the creature that was rising nearby, watching the dragon slowly get out of the ruins of what had recently been a throne room.

'Black dragon, level around sixtieth,' he remarked melancholically, 'However, it can be... Although, is it really?'

"Hey, Caster," he turned to the mage, who was finally able to deal with the summoned undead at the cost of the many injuries now covering his body. "Is this dragon strong?"

"Jeanne is strong, really strong," Caster just looked at the black dragon, distracted from his opponent, after which he looked at him, "Stronger than even Fafnir."

Ainz even perked up for a second, however, remembering which Fafnir they were talking about - he want to clarify away - "How much stronger?"

"Much stronger," Caster answered immediately with a grin. "Now that Jeanne no longer need to give her mana to support the Servants, she has regained her full strength.

"So she also strengthened her Servants?" Ainz closed his eyes and planted the back of his head against the wall. That was so... Wrong.

"Of course!" Caster was almost offended, "Each of them reached the peak of their strength thanks to her mana and…"

"Death," Ainz interrupted the mage's words. It was simply wrong. Like in some absurdist comedy.

"How many times do I need to repeat it, mage, your magic does not affect me!" - Caster only straightened up after a second - "I can't die while my lady is alive!"

"Death," Ainz used the spell once more, after which he slowly rose from his stupor and went to Caster, "Death. Death. Death. Death".

Any of the spells cast could have killed any of the Servants that Ainz had met before - however, right now it was useless. But Ainz did not use it to win. He just wanted to express some of his frustration on someone.

Ainz used this spell several more times, watching how each time Gilles freezes for a second, when his soul tried to leave his body, but returned each time.

"I know what you're doing, necromancer," Caster just grinned. "I understand that. You want to make me feel powerless, to show how easily you can take away my life - each time, luring your opponent into a trap and then letting it go alive. I saw you fighting…"

"Death," Ainz used the spell once more and looked at the dragon in the distance. He should have killed him now, however...

"Death," Ainz used the spell for the last time t, then turned and slowly walked away.

"Where are you going ?!" Caster immediately shouted after him.

"I'll go get some air," the mage sighed and walked slowly away.

"Damn it, you won't go anywhere!" Caster instantly opened his book, after which he used a spell while rushing forward.

The spell seemed to crash into an invisible barrier around Ainz, immediately dispersing.

"Below the sixth rank," Ainz remarked melancholically, "Did not breakthrough Magic Nullification."

A second later, several monsters were born, rushing at the magician, but their blows only powerlessly crashed into the body of the necromancer, which continued to move on.

"Below of the sixtieth level" - Ainz also calmly remarked - "They did not break through the Physical Nullification."

Thus Ainz, not paying attention to the monsters pursuing him, and Caster, watching him with a perplexed look, left.


George looked at the dragon, rising in the distance, and sighed.

"Well, well, that means the Witch's trumps in her sleeves haven't run out yet," sighed Cu Chulainn, then turned to Rider, "What are we going to do?"

"Kill the dragon," Rider just nodded. "We have no other options."

"And where is Master, when there is a need for him?" Caster was indignant, "Wasn't Ainz's plan to get inside and not allow the Witch to throw out something like that?"

"So, now he is fighting with someone," George gave out the most logical thought in the given conditions, after which he again looked at the dragon.

The huge black body of the monster slowly turned around in place in order to find its opponents, after which, finally finding them, let out a roar.

"That is the Witch," George immediately recognized her, after which he turned to Cu Chulainn.

"Seriously?!" the guy turned his eyes to Rider, then back to the dragon. "Well, in this case, we now know for sure that her moniker as the Dragon Witch was not for nothing."

However, Rider only frowned.

The Dragon Witch was protected from magic as much as possible. Having taken the form of a dragon, she acquired incredible strength in the physical plane. In other words, defeating her in a direct battle was now incredibly difficult.

"She is stronger than Fafnir," George said this, after which he looked at Cu Chulainn, "Mage, do you have any strong spell?"

"Yes, but if it's the Witch, then she doesn't give a damn about all my abilities!" Caster turned his eyes to Rider.

"Mashu," he turned around right away, "Get your shield ready."

"Rider?" The girl looked at him, but George only returned his gaze to the dragon.

"Siegfried fulfilled his duty," George nodded. "Now it is my turn."

A second later, Rider rushed forward.

"Rider!" Caster just managed to shout to him, but George no longer listened to him.

"Bayard!" George called his faithful stallion, and after a second, the white horse of the Saint instantly appeared next to him, as if woven from the glare reflected from the sun by the walls of the ruined city.

A second later, George jumped on his horse and rushed forward.

The dragon, seeing the movement of the rider, only growled with all his might and inhaled.

"I hope Mashu had time to put up a shield" - the horseman had only time to think, after which the figure was consumed by the flames.

The dragon flame of the Witch was like a fiery whirlwind, instantly sweeping away everything from its path. The stone touched by the fire did not float like wax - a moment later it simply evaporated, turning into boiling steam. The remains of the monsters still fighting under the command of the Witch evaporated, turning to ashes, immediately burning from incredible temperatures, after which the houses and buildings that stood in the path of the fire exhale ceased to exist.

The flame consumed the Rider, not meeting any resistance, and then travelled further.

Cu Chulainn's runes flared up, after which Mashu's shield stood in the inferno's path, but the flame, instead of dissipating, only thoughtlessly hit the exposed defense.

Caster continued to cast spell after spell, trying to keep the flame from devouring the runes like a hungry beast, and Mashu continued to hold her shield, feeling the fire creeping behind it, scorching her hands and slowly melting her armor.

"George!" The girl managed to cry out at the moment when the figure of Rider was consumed by fire.

"We have serious problems!" Cu Chulainn only shouted to her, using one rune after another.

The flames continued to strike the shields for just a few more seconds before it calmed down and Mashu could turn her gaze to the dragon.

To see George, completely unscathed, rushing forward.

Rider was a great dragon slayer. His legend was named for his main achievement -Saint George the Dragon Slayer. In his legend, George killed a dragon while on his horse, after which he converted the whole city to the Christian faith. But reality does not always coincide with legend.

George was a dragon slayer and he really fought once with the Serpent. But the legend was inaccurate in how his battle went.

His battle with the dragon did not occur in only one line - "and he defeated the snake." It was an exhausting battle in which George fought to the limit of his abilities. In addition, George was not really a good horseman, so instead of fighting on a horse - having arrived at the dragon's den, he preferred to dismount.

What is the point of talking about that battle? One wound after another, a battle to the limit, a battle that drained the two fighters.

Many blows, many wounds, many losses - George lost his hand when he chopped off the dragon's claw - after which the dragon lost its tail when he managed to deprive George of his ear.

However, in the end, when the two fighters were exhausted, when the battle is undecided and anyone could win, George lost.

In the last reckless bout, the dragon managed to knock George away and knock him to the ground, pinning him with its body. George lost his blade and prepared for death.

Then something hit the dragon and distracted it.

Bayard, the old horse of George, with whom he traveled throughout Europe, escaped its leash not far from the battlefield. And instead of escaping from the roar and clash of blade, from the flame and from a dragon, it rushed into battle.

Such an accident and such a trifle decided the outcome of the battle.

The dragon was distracted for only a second, after which he killed the stallion with its blow. However, this horse gave enough time for George to grab his blade - and cut off the head of the snake.

Bayard saved George in that battle - and so became his Noble Phantasm.

George rushed forward - but already without a stallion. He died after taking the blow of the dragon flame.

"Sorry, old friend" - Rider just rushed forward.

That was his essence. Bayard, a faithful horse, always perished before George. Because his strength allowed him to always save his rider from any final blow. At the cost of his life.

The dragon, however, did not care about such trifles - instead of thinking, he preferred to breathe again.

"Damn it, he is attacking again!" Cu Chulainn shouted . Mashu just squeezed her shield - no matter what happens, they must survive!

However, when the dragon breathed out again, a wall appeared on the dragon's flame path. A golden shield instantly rose in its path, after which the dragonfire struck it powerlessly.

"Ascalon!" Came the voice of George, "The Blessed Sword By Which Force is Slain!"

The dragon's flame hit the golden shield that appeared in front of the dragon, but it didn't even move when the inferno collided with an immovable gold wall.

The blade of George bestowed upon him in that battle was not intended for murder. It was intended only to protect the weak. Such was the reflection of the dragon-killer, which became not a hero like Siegfried, but a Saint.

The flame of the dragon died down after a second, after which the golden wall on the enemy's path disappeared. George rushed on, while the dragon roared, noting that its attack had not reached its target.

George was approaching with great speed - even though he was on foot, he still remained a Rider, so the few hundreds of meters that separated the dragon from him did not become an obstacle. In addition, he was a Saint and a dragon slayer. Such a title meant at least a certain level of strength.

"Interfectum Dracones" he called after a moment, when the dragon began to inhale again for the third attack, "Dragon Slayer!"

After a moment, a golden flash pierced the sky, similar to the one that appeared when using Ascalon - however, this time there was no wall in the way of the dragon's attack.

Yes, Ascalon was granted to George only to protect the weak. However, not always as the wall that appears on the enemy's path will become an obstacle for the enemy- for having failed for now, the enemy will eventually return, only stronger. Sometimes, to protect the weak, it is necessary to stain your hands with blood - and defeat the enemy, once and for all.

A golden flash in George's hands struck the dragon a moment later - and the Dragon Witch understood. She has found her nemesis.

The dragonslayer's blade easily cut flesh through the scales, then cut off one of its huge paws in one single movement, after which, without stopping, it struck further, cutting the body, tearing the wing, to the very bottom.

After all, the legend of Saint George concerned precisely with the killing of dragons.

A moment later, the Witch breathed out the flame, but this could no longer save her.

"I did everything I could" - George, finally fulfilling his duty, sighed - "Then it's up to you."

A second later, Rider, Saint George, was consumed by the fiery inferno.

"She lost her Magic Defense!" Mashu turned to Cu Chulainn, "George removed it!"

"Damn all these Servants who don't communicate their plan!" Cu Chulainn only complained "I need time for Phantasm!"

The blade of George was Ascalon, the holy blade protecting the weak and punishing evil. Obstacles could not hide from it and evil machinations could not keep it in its scabbard. The evil overtaken by this blade could not be saved. The holy blade of George was a weapon for punishing evil - and therefore the evil, which became its goal, could not be protected from it. Protection, artifacts, abilities, skills - if the target of this blade was evil, then everything that gave it power turned out to be useless and destroyed.

And what was more evil in the vision of the Saint and the dragon-killer than the Witch and the dragon?

Therefore, the dragon, who received a terrible blow, burst into a roar, after which, leaning on its still remaining limbs, as if anticipating its death, it began to draw in air.

"He's attacking again!" Mashu turned to Cu Chulainn, who hastily laid out his runes.

"Damn it, I need time!" Caster was in as much hurry as he could, "Do something!"

"Blood Fort Andromeda," came a sudden third voice, after which it was as if a whole field covered the city.

"Medusa, you are just a miracle!" Cu Chulainn rejoiced at the appearance of Rider.

"Do your Phantasm!" The girl shouted at him. "I won't last long!"

Blood Fort Andromeda. The Second Phantasm of Medusa.

Medusa was a monster - at least that is what was told in many legends. However, at the same time, there was another story of Medusa. The story of a young and beautiful girl who lived on a distant island with her two sisters. The story of a girl who was cursed for something that she was not to blame.

The great God of the Sea, Poseidon, fell in love with a beautiful girl, but was rejected. The God, however, did not stop his pursuit.

Fleeing from his pursuits, she broke into the temple of Athena - however, the desecration of the temple was not something trivial for a God. Frightened and alone, she became a victim to his deeds.

However, Athena did not see who committed the desecration of her temple - and therefore, when Poseidon disappeared, she could only find a crying girl on the steps of the temple. And cursed her for the act that she did not commit.

Athena turned her into a monster, after which Medusa, abandoned and losing her faith, now known only as a monster, fled to her distant island, wanting to find her peace there.

However, people learned about her actions. Now they saw in her not a girl, but a desecrator of a temple, a monster. Many wanted her head - and many went after her.

Medusa did not want to fight, but neither prayers nor escaping could save her. And Medusa defended herself. And the curse of Athena, which made her a monster, gave her strength.

Thus a legend was told that no one who went to the Shapeless Island of the Gorgon sisters would return alive. So the Noble Phantasm of Medusa is formed.

An incredible concentration of magic in the air that could turn any person into stone - suck them dry to the last drop, leaving only an empty shell, or a corpse. The power of the Blood Fort was such that the magic scattered in the air would make the blood boil in the veins, seeping outward like bloody dew that appears on the skin. A second - and a person loses consciousness. A minute - and a person loses his life.

However, for the dragon, such an ability was only a shallow distraction- a short second of delay. The second that was enough for Caster.

"Ochd Deug Odin!" Smiled Cu Chulainn, "Great God Carved Seal!"

A second later, an explosion consumed the dragon.

The eighteen runes created by Odin himself after he drank from the source of wisdom were a great creation, eighteen keys to magic of Northern Europe. They contained the power of infinite knowledge from Odin himself, the ancient god of the Scandinavians, and the power of all his wisdom. Only eighteen runes carried the full power and fury of thousands of ensi. The fury that was instantly released on its target.

An explosion of phenomenal power consumed the dragon in an instant, after which the blast wave literally razed the Witch's castle to the ground, destroying those small buildings that still remained in the city after the battles and attacks between the Servants and dragons. A cloud of fire rose up hundreds of meters, slowly turning into the likeness of a cloud from an explosion of the strongest weapon available to mankind.

"At least I can add one opponent to my account," Сu Сhulainn grinned, after which the blast wave, reaching their positions, knocked him down.

For a second, deafening silence was established throughout the city, before Caster could rise from his place, looking at the defeated bulk of the dragon. Even such a powerful creature as the Dragon Witch, having acquired a new form and strength, could not withstand the attacks of the primordial power of the runes.

"That was cool," Cu Chulainn nodded his head slowly, "And now..."

After a second, however, the dragon bulk jerked, and then slowly began to rise.

"You are kidding me!" Caster looked disbelievingly at the slowly rising dragon.

However, having finally managed to move, the dragon stopped, and then collapsed again.


"Death," Ainz lowered his hand, looking at how the huge dragon collapsed again. George's ability was able to overcome the Witch's magical defense - however, even the power of the three Phantasms could not kill the Witch. Ainz, however, did not even need his Noble Phantasm.

The dragon's mass fell, and then began to flow slowly, turning into a purple slurry, immediately spreading under it.

"Excellent," Ainz sighed, and then noticed how contours emerge from the slurry.

The Dragon Witch lay motionless, feeling the mucus remaining from the dragon slowly waning.

She did not have arms, legs. Her whole skin was covered with burns and her whole body was torn to pieces. Her armor was melted into the skin, and her eyes could hardly see through the caked blood crust on her face.

"Well..." the Witch tried to grin, but her whole body responded with pain and she froze, "I lost... I always lose, right?.. Haha."

After that, the girl tried to look around, but instantly saw the figure of Ainz standing nearby.

"Ha, mage," the girl smiled. "So you will be my executioner?"

"Yes," answered Ainz and slowly moved toward the girl.

"You don't know how it feels to be betrayed," Ainz, holding his hand for the last spell, stopped.

"What is it like to be alone, at your last moment," the girl tried to smile, but her body returned with pain, "How does it feel to meet the end alone."

Ainz slowly lowered his hand.

"Oh, have you really decided to spare me?" The girl sighed. "It will not help... Nothing will help me now..."

Ainz slowly took a step toward the Witch.

"Traitors," the girl sighed. "All of them... Nobody will share my last moment with me. They all escaped as soon as they could. I was never needed by anyone. They all left me, left me alone in the end... What irony, isn't it? This has already happened, right? Once again, one - and the only one standing next to me is my executioner."

Ainz slowly took another step toward the Witch.

"Well, I'm left alone," the girl grunted a little, "Alone at the very end. What a pity - even Gilles... They all betrayed me. No one is fighting under my banner anymore. No one looks at me with admiration. No one sees my death. All those whom I called friends, all those who admired me, again left me alone. Tell me, mage, do you know how it feels to be alone?"

Ainz slowly looked at the Witch.

Once he also asked this question.

There, far away, in a distant world, he slowly met the end of Yggdrasil.

What is a game? Entertainment. A way to kill time. A pointless waste of time.

Players of Ainz Ooal Gown were such. Each of them was unique in something. In the game, they fought, completed quests, found equipment, clashed, talked, laughed...

And then they left.

Family. Children. Work. Study. Plans. Career.

All of them had a life other than the game. A university professor, a happy mother, a student at a prestigious university, a voice actress.

Satoru Suzuki had no life.

There was no education. There were no friends. There was no family. There was no career.

He worked every day, from eight in the morning until six in the evening, after which he returned to his apartment. Empty, dusty. Knowing that without education he will never find another job. Knowing that without money, he will never find anything for himself. That without looks she won't find a girl for herself.

He played because he had nothing more to do.

And the game was different. A Girlfriend? Why does he need it, he is a great magician! Career? He is the ruler of a whole world! Friends? Forty-one people whom he considered his friends were with him. Adventure? He had so many quests and stories that he could compose a dozen books about his story.

And while Ainz lived, everyone else was playing. And then they left.

Yggdrasil held the top spot for popularity for twelve years. Incredibly long time for a game. But time does not look at the dreams of one person.

Yggdrasil announced its closure. And Ainz returned to the game for the last time.

He sent out invitations, prepared fireworks, and returned to the meeting room.

On the last day of the game, only one person returned. It was even more painful than if no one had come at all. Only one person who spoke about the closure of the game as something trivial, after which he complained about work - and went away.

That is his whole story.

And Ainz returned to his throne room for the last time, after which he sat down to wait. Expecting the end of everything.

"Yes," finally Ainz said, "I know how it feels to be alone."

"Hah," the Witch grinned, and then slowly turned her head toward the magician, "Then you will understand me."

"Yes," Ainz sighed. "I understand."

After this, Ainz took another step towards the Witch and she closed her eyes, preparing to die.

Ainz slowly crouched next to her, after which he held out his hands in the girl. After a second, he lifted her body from the ground and hugged her.

"Irony, huh," the Witch only grinned, and Ainz felt a tear fall on his clothes, which were already soiled during the battle, "Who would know that I would sink so low that my enemy would console me..."

Ainz just sighed.

"I am enraged by your pity, mage," the Witch tried to smile through the pain, but the tears flowing from her eyes did not stop, "But still... Thank you."

After a second, the body of the Witch in Ainz's hands swam, turning into purple slime, after which, after a second, a golden goblet appeared from the slime, hit the stone loudly, and slowly rolled over granite.

The creature of the Holy Grail, Jeanne d'Arc (Alter), ceased her torment.

"Jeanne," came a voice next to Ainz, after which he turned to Gilles de Re, who was just looking into the void, "Jeanne... Forgive me, please, Jeanne…"

Ainz slowly got up, and then directed his hand at Caster, but he did not even respond to the actions of the magician. Slowly, Gilles moved to the fallen golden goblet, after which he lifted it.

"Forgive me, Jeanne, for I am guilty of everything," Gilles closed his eyes, after which he lowered his head and slowly trudged away.

Ainz could have killed him now at any second - but Caster did not even realize it. Slowly he walked away.

Ainz extended his hand, after which he slowly lowered it.

"Hey, we won!" the voice distracted mage, after which Ainz slowly turned to his Servants. To those who remained of them.

Cu Chulainn slowly walked forward, leaning on his staff. Beside him, Mashu was limping. Medusa walked close to her, supporting Archer. Somewhere beside them, behind Archer, Kiyohime was slowly moving at the back.

"Well, is everything finally done?" Cu Chulainn sighed, taking another step forward, after which he glanced at Ainz.

"Yes, almost." Ainz closed his eyes and then turned around. "Wait for me here. Now, I just have to... Find out something."

After that, Ainz went after Caster in order to end his doubts once and for all.


Yggdrasil: * (E-)

DATA_CORRUPTED
 
Chapter 30: Singularity I: Orleans
Chapter 30: Singularity I: Orleans

Gilles de Rais, Caster, found his last refuge in the ruined throne room, where until recently the Witch had fought and met her death along with Jeanne d'Arc.

The room itself was now completely destroyed - the walls were broken in many places, the roof fell almost completely, the columns were fragmented and randomly spread out, because of which the floor of the hall was now completely covered with dust and concrete chips.

The carpet was torn and now lay in parts in different corners of the hall, illuminated by the bright daytime sun rising above the remains of the ruined city, because of which the ruins of the throne room were now flooded with light. However, not completely.

The only thing that survived in the entire hall was the bulky stone throne. Empty, abandoned, it seemed that it was not even scratched during the battles that occurred, while continuing to stand motionless. The small remains of the masonry and the roof that still remained cast a dark shadow on the Witch's throne.

It was in this shadow that Gilles de Rais was located.

He continued to look at nowhere. Dropping his head, he held in his hands a goblet - the Holy Grail - which he held with no greater reverence than a traveler dying of hunger and thirst holding gold and diamonds in his hands. Yes, they are valuable - but not in their power to give him salvation.

That is what Ainz saw in him.

Slowly, he entered through the hinged doors, which swayed sideways but survived the collapse of the hall, after which he looked at Caster.

That's all.

Ainz sighed.

The last goal in this place. The last person with whose death will end the Singularity.

Ainz moved slowly toward his goal, but Caster, hearing the sound of the mage's footsteps, only looked up at him, and then hung his head again.

"Do not waste your time on me, mage," Gilles said, "I am already dead anyway."

Ainz said nothing in response, only slowly continuing to move toward his goal.

"Your... Your Servant - this Assassin..." Caster continued, "Her poison ... While Jeanne was alive, I did not need to worry about it, but now... Do not worry about me, mage, I will be dead in a few minutes.

Ainz, however, only continued to move towards Caster, after which, going up to that of an arm's length, he stopped. Gilles, hidden by the shadow, slowly raised his gaze to Ainz, whose figure was lit by the midday sun, and then closed his eyes.

"So it was you," Ainz said calmly, after which he looked at Caster.

"Yes," Gilles slowly opened his eyes, after which he looked at the goblet still clasped in his hands, "It was me."

There were a lot of questions in Ainz's head that he wanted to ask, but only one interest him the most.

"Why?" Ainz looked at Caster, forcing him to look at him.

"Why?" Caster just sighed. "Why did I do all this?"

Ainz nodded slowly.

"Because it was the only way," - Gilles sighed, - "Tell me, mage... Is there anything in the world that you want most? Something that will make you to overcome all obstacles in your path? Something for which you are willing to sacrifice something more than your own life, your glory, your mind?"

Ainz stopped.

Ainz Ooal Gown. His friends. His family. His real life.

"Yes," Ainz nodded slowly.

"Then do not believe the Holy Grail," Caster smiled sadly. "It does not fulfill our wishes. It only makes us suffer."

Ainz stopped, looking at Gilles.

"There was such a thing in my life," Gilles closed his eyes, "Jeanne. My whole life has been devoted to Jeanne, everything that I breathed, everything that I thought about. My whole existence was built around Jeanne and... One day she died."

Ainz looked at the Grail in Caster's hands.

"Yes, you understood correctly," Caster grinned sadly, not allowing his laugh to reach his eyes, full of pain, "The Holy Grail. What would you do if you got a thing in your hands that can fulfill your every desire? What would you wish if you once got the opportunity to turn the whole world, change history, return to the past and do the impossible?"

Ainz just silently looked at the Grail.

"I made a wish to the Grail," Caster grinned, "So that he brings my Jeanne back to life again.

"But I loved Jeanne, I loved her more than my own life," Caster smiled sadly at his thoughts, "And therefore I did not want Jeanne to die again, to be betrayed again, to be slandered and executed again. And so I desired another Jeanne from the Grail. Jeanne, who would be strong. Jeanne, who would not indulge the whims of other people. Jeanne, who would not be blind to human filth and abomination. Jeanne, who would not allow herself to die because of her ideals. Jeanne, who would remember her betrayal and would not let this happen again."

Ainz sighed. Gilles nodded at this.

"So the Holy Grail summoned my Jeanne — the one you call the Dragon Witch," Gilles closed his eyes, "The Power of the Holy Grail surpassess that of Servants and people, powerful and invincible. But…"

"The Grail does not fulfill wishes," Gilles only grinned, after which he raised the goblet to his face. "It was created as a mockery to our miserable desires and silly dreams. And so it corrupted my desire."

"Dragon Witch," Gilles closed his eyes, "The Creature of the Holy Grail. Strong, powerful and... Forever crippled."

"I wanted to create a strong Jeanne — however, instead of strength, she got only weakness," Gilles said it calmly, "I wanted her to remember the betrayal, and the Grail perverted my desire. All her thoughts, all her memories were just about that. She spent every moment of her life in endless agony, remembering her betrayal. Every moment of her life, the Grail tormented her, forcing her to feel the fire burning her again and again. Every moment of her life she went through it again and again - despair, bitterness, pain and death. Every second of her life, the Grail returned her to the flames of that fire - and never let her forget about it."

"I wished that Jeanne would not let herself be killed, would not allow people to dispose of her life again, would not put other people's ideals above her life," Gilles slowly smiled sadly, "And the Grail fulfilled my desire. That Jeanne that was born was deprived of this. Her emotions - kindness, joy, love... All of them were strangled. All that remained of her was rage and revenge, anger and pain. Infinitely nourished by her memory, again and again returning to her betrayal. There was nothing human in Jeanne - only hatred and pain. She could not see the good and could not feel the kindness, did not know pity and did not see ideals. All that led her was only endless pain and bitterness from the betrayal. All she wanted was to make this pain disappear. Destroying France, killing Jeanne, subjugating the Servants... But the Grail did not allow her to do this - each time, she only had to do an act - and it only showed her visions of her death, reminded her of her pain, made the fire devour her faster. And she fought, trying to throw out her pain, realizing that she would never be able to do it."

"I wished to return my Jeanne, Jeanne, that would not allow herself to be killed," Gilles weighed the Grail on his hand, as if a useless thing whose only use is to decorate a distant dusty shelf, "And instead, the Grail created Jeanne that wanted to be killed. Rushing into attacks, fighting the whole world, experiencing pain, she strove for death - and did not receive it. She won battle after battle, even meeting her death - the Grail returned her to life again and again, not allowing her to break the vicious circle. Time after time, she strove to free herself - and my desire bound her, making her suffer in eternal agony. She wanted to throw out her pain - but the Grail did not let her die. She sought liberation - and could not afford to kill herself. She sought liberation - but was forced to return again and again. My desire, by which I wanted to save her, cursed her to eternal suffering."

"Tell me, mage," Gilles took his hand with the goblet to the side, "If the Holy Grail was created only to mock our desires... If God is really so cruel that his reward is a punishment... What is the meaning of the Grail?"

After that, Caster let go of the Grail, which loudly hit the stone floor and slowly rolled to the side. Gilles looked up at Ainz.

"Jeanne was a Master for all the other Servants," Gilles looked at the magician carefully, "And I was the one who summoned the Jeanne. But she was not a Servant - my desire only supported her existence. I wanted to serve Jeanne - and the Grail did not let me die. Jeanne was called by me - and I did not allow her to plunge into the depths of madness. However, then, in that battle... Saber, that Gilles de Rais, attacked Jeanne."

"Nobody wanted to fight for Jeanne. Crazy tyrant, annihilator, whose goal is to bring pain and suffering to people," - Gilles covered his face with his hands, - "Who will fight for this? The fear of death was what made people and monsters obey her. Her madness destroyed the mind of her Servants, as rust destroys steel, penetrating into their essence. But I loved her. Loved her as a parent loves his crippled child. I served her, defended her, corrected her mistakes. I was the only one who did not refuse her - and Jeanne could no longer cling to anything in this world except me. But Saber took part in that battle. That one me that did not accept the new Jeanne, the one that did not find my despair and did not fall as low as me. But still he was me, the distant past of me. And Jeanne saw me in him."

"The Grail was created only for our suffering," Caster smiled weakly, "And Jeanne remembered everything. She remembered how I had not saved her from captivity, how I had betrayed her then. And now she saw my betrayal again. Betrayal from the only person who fought for her."

Gilles interrupted, and then slowly brought his hand to his heart.

"My body is getting weaker," he smiled, "I have so little left... Good..."

After that, Caster leaned back in his throne.

"In that battle, Jeanne lost control," Gilles sighed, "And I lost my connection with Jeanne. The Grail subdued her mind - and her insanity swept over her. Her pain turned her into a monster - into the monster which she was called. a Dragon Witch."

"You know what happened next, mage," Gilles sighed and his sigh came out a little hoarsely, due to his slowly collapsing lungs, "And Jeanne... She stopped her torment. She left this world."

"Maybe... Truly... This is my punishment and a lesson... About humility," - it became harder and harder for Caster to speak, - "I was... So afraid... To let Jeanne go... But the only way... To release her... From torment… Was... To allow her die... Again…"

Gilles coughed, feeling the visions in his eyes darkening.

"Tell me... Mage," Gilles looked at Ainz with a barely seeing gaze, "God... Is cruel... He does not forgive sins... And I will go down to hell again... But Jeanne... My compassionate Jeanne... Will she forgive me?"

Ainz continued to look at Caster, silently.

"I... I thought so..." Caster grinned sadly, "Then..."

"Yes," Ainz said calmly.

Ainz did not know if his answer was a lie or not. Ainz did not know if Jeanne could forgive Gilles for creating a monster with her name. Ainz did not know if the Witch could forgive Caster for the torment and pain she had suffered.

Ainz knew none of this. But…

"Yes," Ainz said firmly and confidently, "She will forgive you."

Gilles fell silent for a second, after which he grinned.

"If this... Had been said by the holiest of the Saints - Caster sighed intermittently, - "I would not have believed him... But if it… You... The Devil... Even if it is a lie... Then I will believe you…"

After this, Caster, Gilles de Rais, the cause of the First Singularity, the last opponent of Ainz Ooal Gown and Chaldeas, closed his eyes forever.

A second later, Ainz felt how slowly reality began to distort around him, and the crumbling Singularity unravel at the seams, after which he looked at the fallen Holy Grail goblet.

After that, Ainz looked up at the sky, watching a ripple ran through the sky, slowly beginning to distort, but the distant black sun in the sky continued to shine down with a gold rim.

There were many questions in his head. Much more than it was originally.

"Chaldea is in touch!" Came the chief's joyful voice.

"Get us out of here," Ainz said, continuing to stare at the slowly collapsing sky.

"Urgent evacuation?!" came Roman's voice nearby.

"No, we did everything that was necessary" - Ainz said this, after which he looked at Caster, whose body began to crumble to mana.

"Wow!" - Roman was surprised - "How so?! Have you killed all the Servants?! What about the Holy Grail?!"

"Roman, shut up!" - it was heard as the chef with his elbow pushed the guy away from the microphone - "One moment!"

Ainz felt his connection with Chaldea slowly growing stronger, after which he turned his gaze to Caster's body.

After a second, he took a step and picked up the Grail, which had previously been on the floor, after which he looked at the Grail.

The golden goblet continued to shimmer in the sun with glare. Ainz, glancing at the goblet, only put it in his inventory.


"Hello!" - Olga-Marie's joyful voice was heard right away, as soon as Ainz took a step a second after his transfer, "Welcome to Chaldea! Damn it, you quickly beat the Singularity!"

Ainz just nodded at this, after which he glanced at the Servant left behind.

Kiyohime was not a Servant of Ainz, so she could not return with them to Chaldea. Archer still had a slight limp. Cu Chulainn leaned on his staff. Mashu was holding on to her right side. Medusa only powerlessly took a step forward, almost tripping over her own legs.

All who remained.

All other Servants perished.

"That's less then we sent," - Olga-Marie immediately thought about the same fact, taking a look at Ainz and the remnants of his servants.

Ainz only nodded slowly.

"Apparently, we will have to re-summon them," Olga-Marie sighed. "It is good that the Servants called by Chaldea do not remain dead ."

Ainz blinked several times, straying even from his past thoughts, "What?"

"I say that they will have to be called back," Olga-Marie immediately glanced at the magician, "Otherwise the banquet table will look empty."

Ainz paused for a few seconds, waiting for what would happen next.

"Okay, let Roman do it for now," the chief immediately turned to the exit from the room, "Roman!"

"Yes, yes," the guy immediately leaned out of the aisle.

"Re-summon the dead Servants", - Olga-Marie immediately gave the order, and then turned to Ainz, - "But you…"

"I should change clothes and go to the shower," Ainz said immediately, after which, having waited for a confirmative nod in response, he went to his room.


Roman punched a few numbers he knew into the control panel, after which he glanced at the light slowly beginning to appear. After a second, several rings located in the central part of the machine twisted and a sharp flash of light blinded him for a second, causing the man to blink.

"I have come as bidden by the summons..." - a second later, however, the cold voice broke off, "I recognize this place..."

"Arthuria," Roman immediately smiled at the newly called-up Saber, "You are right on time!"

"Ah..." the girl immediately turned to the guy, "You... Roman?"

"That's right," Akkiman smiled at her. "Are the memories coming back?"

"Yes," Arthuria frowned, "I was summoned here... By Ainz... Then we went to Singularity... There were several battles... Lancelot... Marie Antoinette... And then I died... The Phantom of the Opera."

At this moment, suddenly Saber's hand twitched, as if from a spasm, but the girl immediately squeezed this hand with her second.

"Is everything all right?" Roman looked at Arthuria a little worried.

"Yes, everything is in order, I remembered everything," Arthuria only nodded. "Summon the others."

"Good," Roman nodded, after which he returned to the console.

Arthuria's hand twitched one more time, after which she squeezed it harder and took a step from the place of her call.


Ainz continued to look in the mirror, feeling how slowly, drops from the shower water flows down his hair.

The Dragon Witch brought a lot of suffering to people. Gilles de Rais was responsible for creating the Dragon Witch. On their hands was the blood of thousands, maybe even millions of people. Trying to defend them would be hypocritical.

However, this was the crux of the problem.

Ainz was a hypocrite.

Most people agree that people's lives are equal and valuable in and of themselves - therefore they do not allow themselves to kill, to commit genocide, or to terrorize people. However, if a choice is presented to a person - whether to let one random person whom they never met die, or the person they care about - their spouse, child, or parent - few would agonize over their choice.

Many people would not consider their choice hypocritical - but Ainz considered it to be just that. And considered himself to be a hypocrite.

Ainz considered himself a hypocrite, a real hypocrite, for whom the suffering of people on the other side of the earth is always insignificant compared to the fact that he poured coffee on himself today or crashed into a door at work, gaining a large bruise on his shoulder. For him, the suffering of one person before him was much more important than the suffering of hundreds in the distance.

So now he was looking in the mirror.

Dragon Witch. Defective Jeanne d'Arc.

A lonely and abandoned girl, locked inside her own mind and inside her own painful memories, each time forced to experience the worst moments in her life and the moment of her own execution, her own execution and betrayal. One abandoned person who was simply afraid to stay alone inside his own mind forever, alone with pain and loneliness.

Mad Caster of the Witch. Gilles de Rais.

A lonely man, forever deprived of the meaning of his life, in the pursuit of a miracle dooming himself, the one for which he made a wish, and thousands of people to suffer. Damned madman, that he simply wished to regain what he had lived his whole life for.

Ainz did not know.

If he knew that only one person was responsible for the closure of Yggdrasil, if he found out that if he died, Yggdrasil would survive, if he knew that with the death of this man his whole Ainz Ooal Gown would return to him... What would he do?

Ainz did not know.

Human life is valuable in itself. But people are hypocritical.

And Ainz was a hypocrite.

The Holy Grail.

Ainz recalled his first singularity, where he ended up with Mashu, Cu Chulainn, Olga-Marie. Where he first met Lev.

In that Singularity, everything that happened was the result of an outbreak of the Holy Grail War. War for the Holy Grail, a wish-fulfiller with unlimited power.

The change in ritual that has taken place and the many things that have happened have led to the Holy Grail War not happening correctly. But it still remained a war for the Holy Grail.

In the Holy Grail War, the rules are simple. Kill all Masters, kill all Servants, kill your Servant - and you will receive the promised Holy Grail.

Ainz did just that. He killed all the Servants. All Masters died without his participation. His Servant - Mashu - was not part of the summoning of the Holy Grail - therefore, her death was not needed in the end.

Ainz won that war.

And he took the prize.

Then Ainz took the Holy Grail for himself, not understanding what he wants to do with it. It was just a trophy, a well-deserved reward for the quest. Ainz took it with him, throwing it in his inventory as an honorary prize, and then forgot about it. Ainz collected a lot of data crystals at that time, in which he was much more interested in, and then discovered that he could call Servants with their help - and the Grail simply ceased to be necessary for him. He did not even think that the Grail could fulfill his wish.

Revive Ainz Ooal Gown.

Forty of his friends, true friends, his family. If he wished, the Grail would recreate them next to him. If he wished, he would return to his world. If he wished, the Grail would give him a world in which Yggdrasil never closed, his friends never left the game. Where his joy would be eternal.

However, now, looking at the Dragon Witch, at Gilles de Rais, at their words, Ainz did not know.

Ainz knew nothing.

If he wished to return to his world - what would he find there? An empty apartment, daily grinding work, a gray world - and death in the next forty years.

If he wanted an endless Yggdrasil - what would happen then? An endless game, perverted by the Grail, in which he was forced to watch forever as his friends from Ainz Ooal Gown, locked inside, try to escape from the captivity of the game. How they try to leave the game in order to return to their lives - to work, to friends, to families. He would have forever locked his friends in a game without a way out, looking at how slowly they burning from the inside.

If he wanted to bring his friends from Ainz Ooal Gown - what would he create? He remembered HeroHero, an old friend, always tired of his job and a guy suffering from many medical problems due to overwork. Would he recreate it? He would have received an eternally suffering person, slowly crumbling to pieces, experiencing suffering, and unable to die.

Ulbert? A lonely and embittered man without achievements in life - what would he get?A crazy maniac tormented by anger and unfulfilled ambitions, locked inside his own mind alone with its complexes and weaknesses?

Touch Me? Noble and merciful guardian of order and justice - what would happen then? A punitive and intolerant of other views, obsessed with the idea of establishing a "world order" and eradicating "evil" - and all that he considers evil?

Yamaiko? A level-headed and cheerful mother and teacher - what would have come out of her? A being incapable of making decisions, locked in the circle of observing the hatred that is happening in the world, endlessly mourning the evil done in this world?

The Grail does not fulfill wishes.

Ainz understood this.

The Grail does not fulfill wishes.

It was created only to make us suffer.

The words of Gilles de Rais floated in his mind.

The Grail does not fulfill wishes.

Ainz closed his eyes.

"Hey!" Someone tugged at his sleeve and Ainz opened his eyes to look at Olga-Marie sitting next to him.

Blinking several times, Ainz looked around.

He is sat at a huge table full of various dishes - delicacies, snacks, alcohol, fruits...

'I have never seen such a variety, except in Yggdrasil' - Ainz blinked again.

He was plunged into his thoughts so deeply that he missed everything. How he changed clothes, how he went down to the banquet, how he took his place at the head of the table...

Slowly Ainz looked at those at the table.

Archer - he looked better now. Apparently, he chose not to drink alcohol today - in his hand was a glass full of orange juice.

On his right sat Hassan. In his hand was a glass with a little wine - he did not want to drink, but did so out of politeness, as befits etiquette.

Cu Chulainn was sitting on his left - judging by the abundance of toothpicks, decency rules did not particularly concern him and he managed to fill himself with a dozen canapes, continuing to reach for a new one even now, while holding a wine glass filled to the brim with red wine.

Arthuria sat behind Cu Chulainn - also holding a wine glass on her outstretched hand, in which a little wine was poured - but apparently, unlike Hassan, she nevertheless decided to celebrate today's event.

Opposite to Saber, Medusa was sitting - she was also raising a glass, but Ainz could hardly make out what was poured into it - apparently, white wine, with just one sip worth of it.

Mashu was next to Medusa - apparently she also wanted to drink something alcoholic , but Roman didn't allow her, so now the girl was raising a glass full of grape juice.

Next to her was Roman himself - smiling, he also preferred this time to do without alcohol.

The closest one to Ainz and the chief was Serenity - carefully looking at Ainz, she tried not to touch anything on the table, just in case, so as not to poison the other Servants.

Ainz blinked, after which he looked at the chief sitting next to him.

Olga Marie carefully looked at him, raising a glass of white wine. Roman also tried to forbid her to drink today, but was sent away with his recommendations.

"Well, what are you waiting for?!" The chief could not wait, "Say something already!"

Ainz looked up.

He will not forgive himself if his friends from Ainz Ooal Gown are cursed because of his desires. He will not allow it.

So Ainz looked at himself and his glass of red wine, after which he lifted it into the air.

"For Chaldea."


Yggdrasil: (E-) (Case)

ACCESS_LIMITED
 
Chaldea 8: Summoning
Chaldea 8: Summoning

Ainz stood in front of a huge machine, which facilitate the summoning of Servants, and began to think.

He needed to evaluate the capabilities of all the other Servants. He needed to figure out his own power. He needed to go to the next Singularity. He was supposed to save humanity.

From the point of view of logic - more Servants were not necessary for him. The six Servants with whom he had gone to the Singularity with ,from the very beginning, completed their task. Of course, it would be foolish to believe that in the future all the Singularities will be as easy as the first, but at the same time, if his guesses were confirmed, then the need for additional Servants would disappear by itself.

And yet, he now faced the pseudo-"Throne of Heroes", it's material embodiment in the form of a machine, and laid out the data crystals collected in the Singularity from the killed mobs. Unfortunately, he never collected the data crystals that dropped from the killed Servants, he was too busy with his thoughts - for which he now reproached himself a little. The singularity collapsed, burying with itself all the remaining resources that he could still get, and now he could not collect it. Of course, at that time he was busy thinking about the death of the Servants - however, when he learned that those who died in the Singularity could be summoned again, he felt twice cheated. Not only was his self-recrimination useless - he still had not collected the data crystals, an extremely valuable resource at all times, because of these unnecessary thoughts.

Ainz first considered the Servants to be his collection, then to be an incredible threat, then ordinary people devoured by their desires and decisions, and eventually returned to where he started once again. Gathered as a collection.

On the other hand, it wasn't so bad. Perhaps he would really find a really strong and dangerous Servant this way? In any case, this way of thinking will help him dispel doubts as to whether or not he will find a Servant stronger than himself, or whether those called upon will further convince him in the thought that he somewhat... Underestimated his power.

"Is everything ready?" Romani's voice distracted Ainz, after which the magician nodded. In addition to Ainz himself, the summoning was attended by several more people - Romani, as the chief operator of the machinery, a chief who was interested in issues so intimately related to Chaldea, Serenity, who, having being re-summoned again, did not leave Ainz's side for a second, and Mashu, who came here, apparently, because she had nothing to do. The rest of the Servants preferred to do their own things- Archer was now working in the kitchen, having driven out several workers who had previously worked there, Medusa chose to relax with a book in her hands, Arthuria and Cu Chulainn went sparring - apparently, Caster was still affected by the fact that he never killed a single enemy, and Arthuria agreed to help him vent out his annoyance. Hassan... What Hassan was doing now - Ainz had no idea.

As well as what Da Vinci was doing now. She even found out about Ainz's arrival only a day later, accidentally colliding with Ainz himself in the corridor. She only briefly greeted him, after which she gave him a strange look, full of thought, and went off somewhere to do her own business, muttering in an undertone about "the paradox of an existence of pure information," Ainz did not particularly delve into this.

And now he was standing in front of a machine, watching how Romani was typing something into the keyboard.

Ainz sighed and closed his eyes.

A second later, a huge machinery came to life. Somewhere in the middle of the machinery, an impulse started, after which, several half rings in the center of the machine slowly began to rotate.

The machine itself was a complex and large device, full of sensors and wires - and although Ainz was a child of an era far superior to this in technological development, he still did not understand the device, the techno-magic computer in front of him and only saw a huge machine stretching from wall to wall of the rather large room, as well as the central podium, where the Servant was summoned, surrounded by a cocoon of half rings, which were currently rotating at a tremendous speed. And the small control panel with the keyboard was a little way away, behind which Romani himself was sitting, who at the moment had driven in some predetermined numbers and continued to observe the summoning process with interest.

In the end, after the rings made another turn, a flash of light flashed through the room for a second, after which Ainz heard a slow step of boots clad in steel armor.

"Servant Ruler, Jeanne d'Arc! I'm really glad to meet you!" A girl's voice came to Ainz, after which, at the same time as the dimming flash of light, the face of the Saint, already familiar to him, was illuminated by a smile.

"Jeanne d'Arc," Ainz nodded. It was logical that the central person of the Singularity will appear during the summoning , - "Glad to meet with you again."

"Again?" The girl smiled, after which she glanced at Ainz, "But we have never…"

After that, the girl suddenly cut off her sentence and fell silent, staring at Ainz.

"Wait, we did... we met..." - Jeanne looked at Ainz carefully, after which she thoughtfully took a step towards the magician, "In a distant dream..."

"In the Singularity," Ainz said, "There, we fought together..."

"Against the Witch," Jeanne remembered, after which her eyes brightened and a smile appeared on her face, "Exactly, I remembered! Then it was you who defeated the Witch!"

"Something like that," the mage answered evasively.

"Then I am glad to fight together with you again!" Jeanne smiled and immediately extended her hand to the magician, "Now I have been called up in full force and will be able to help you with all my abilities as aServant!"

"I will hope so." Ainz held out his hand, after which the contract was immediately formed.

Ainz sighed. It seems that the first summoning went well. This was clearly a good sign.

"Welcome to Chaldea," the chief's voice instantly reached Jeanne, forcing her to look at Olga-Marie, "I hope you will like it here."

"I will be in your care," the girl smiled right away, looking around the room. Ainz, then the chief, after which two people nearby - Mashu and a man whose name she did not know. As well as…

Jeanne looked at Serenity, that, noticing her gaze, took a step closer to Ainz and then embraced him with her whole small figure, clasping her hands on the magician's chest.

"Is something wrong?"Serenity stared at Jeanne, after which the Saint, sensing how she began to blush, turned away.

"No, no, nothing of the kind!" Jeanne immediately tried to excuse herself, instantly stepping off the podium and stepping aside, trying to not look at Serenity and Ainz, though sometimes throwing glances at them.

"Hm," Ainz grunted vaguely, after which he glanced at Serenity, who, having felt his gaze, immediately stepped back a step.

Then another summoning followed - and on this instance Ainz's forebodings were right.

And wrong.

As soon as the flash died out - another sound of plate boots, so reminiscent to the sound of Jeanne's boots, attracted attention.

"Servant, Avenger" the voice of the speaking one was very similar to the voice of Jeanne, but was a little sharper and a little deeper, "Summoned upon your request."

"Dragon Witch" - Ainz stated, looking at the girl who appeared. She looked just like Ainz remembered her. Not like in the last moments of her life, no. This time her black armor sparkled as if polished before a parade - on her shoulders lay a black cloak, lined with fur, and a confident grin rested on her face.

"What's with that look?" The girl smirked, after which she extended her hand overlooking the room, "Come on..."

The Dragon Witch's gaze instantly went over the figure of Jeanne d'Arc. The Saint also did not take her eyes off her alternative version.

"Oh, it means that fate has predetermined for us to meet again," the Witch instantly reached for her blade, "Fine, then..."

"We are not your enemies," Ainz intervened, forcing the Witch to stop and look at the magician, "At least not anymore..."

"Anymore?" The Witch thought for a second, after which her pupils dilated, "You! You are the one who fought with me! You are the one at the end... You... You!"

After that, the Witch pointed an accusatory finger at the magician, looking angrily at him - although Ainz could see in the girl not only anger and accusation, but also some embarrassment, which she tried to hide behind anger.

'She's probably embarrassed that she lost to me' - Ainz misunderstood the girl's embarrassment a bit and then tried to fix it - "Don't worry, that moment means nothing."

"Nothing..." Ainz made it worse by his own words, "Doesn't it mean?!"

"Yes, of course, we'll just forget about it," Ainz nodded immediately, forcing the girl to clench her fists.

"You... You... You..." - now the girl's embarrassment was completely hidden behind her anger, "Go to hell!"

"Ahem." - Ainz was a little surprised at this reaction, but nevertheless tried to continue the call, "Still... A contract?"

"Yes, damn it," the Witch instantly agreed, and then immediately walked away, not noticing either the magician, the chief, or the rest of those present, heading to the farthest corner that she could find, as far as possible from everyone else, continuing to be incensed by her situation, which is why, even the chief did not dare to approach the girl.

'Hmm, so I can even summon her…' - Ainz thought for a moment. Gilles de Rais claimed that the Witch created by him was a crippled creature, but the Witch who had been called now, although angry, did not look like a creature tormented by constant pain. And her meeting with Jeanne was much milder than one would expect...

Was it possible that Caster lied? Or is it something else?

Ainz could think about this later, while he was now worried about several other things.

The magician turned to Roman, that, after coming out of a trance, looked at him in response, and continued to lay out crystals for the next summoning.

Due to the fact that he failed to collect the drops from a lot of enemies and Servants - the number of crystals he collected was very small and he had at best two more summon. This saddened Ainz the most.

The next batch of crystals took its place, after which Romani clicked again and the half rings began to rotate.

'And who else can I summon by this machine?' - Ainz looked at the machine carefully. Technically speaking, he had already summoned Jeanne and the Witch, as well as Arthuria, Medusa, Cu Chulainn, Hassan and Archer - all of them he had met in the past, in the form of an enemy or ally. But Serenity...

Ainz looked at the girl next to him, which caught his eye and smiled a little in return.

He had not met Serenity before and was able to summon her in spite of this. Does this mean that he didn't really need to meet the one he summoned for? After all, Hassan, for example, at his first meeting with Ainz, was barely intelligent and barely able to talk - but this did not unable Ainz from summoning him as a full-fledged Servant. With Serenity, he used a slightly special data crystal, the one that he received from the dead Lev. Does this mean that he needed some special data crystal in order to call on some new Servant whom he has not yet met?

Even before the light from the flash had dimmed, Ainz heard a joyful, joy-filled voice.

"I am Amadeus Wolfgang Mozart!" - a joyful voice came, - "Leave battles aside, I promise only to decorate your life!"

The man who appeared from the summoning circle looked joyful without end - however, looking at Ainz, he suddenly froze for a second, remembering something, after which he smiled even wider - "Ainz, what a fortuitous meeting! Just to think, I didn't know that we are able to see each other again!"

"Me too." Ainz sighed and held out his hand. Mozart accepted the contract without any problems, after which he began to look around.

"Oh, Jeanne," he smiled, finding the Holy One's gaze, "Mashu... You two, please forgive me, I don't know... And…"

After that, Caster stared at the Witch in the corner and blinked.

"I didn't think I would ever meet with you again..." Mozart blinked. "Especially now that we are allies."

"Allies, ha," the Witch only grinned. "The fact that we have one Master does not make us allies - do not think too much about yourself, musician."

"I have to agree," Mozart nodded instantly, after which he took a step from the podium towards Jeanne, taking a seat next to her.

Ainz looked at the miserable amount of his data crystals, and then poured them all out into the machine.

'So, to summon someone special, you need some special catalyst for the summoning,' Ainz blinked. This thought sounded logical. Very logical.

And even tempting...

Ainz was lost in thought, so that he woke up only from the next voice of the Servant who arrived.

"Servant, Kiyohime," came the quiet and calm voice of a woman, even more like a girl, who took a step from the flash of light, "Even though I look like this, I'm a Berserker you know? I'll be in your care, Master."

After that, the girl who appeared opened her golden fan, immediately covering the entire lower part of her face, after which, after a second, she froze, gazing atAinz with a peculiar look.

'It seems that she is also trying to recall the Singularity' - the magician came to the most logical conclusion.

"Anchin!" And was instantly wrong, "How long have I been waiting for you, Anchin!"

The girl immediately tried to rush at Ainz, but Serenity instantly posed as an obstacle in her way, immediately hanging onto Ainz. Kiyohime, having seen this, instantly stopped and looked at the unexpectedly appeared rival.

"Who the hell are you?" The girl asked coldly and angrily, looking at Serenity, who was wrapping her hands around Ainz, like at ant crawling unexpectedly onto a dining table.

"I am the wife of the Master," Serenity said instantly, forcing everyone present to cough in surprise immediately — most of all Ainz.

"What nonsense," Kiyohime laughed softly to this statement, but her eyes remained cold, "Lying to me? Know that, I could detect a lie - however, in order to smell the stench of your lies, one may even not be a dragon."

"It's the truth," Serenity smiled "The Master himself called me his wife."

After that, Ainz choked on air and coughed.

"Anchin?!" Kiyohime immediately looked toward the magician, after which he, embraced by Serenity and therefore unable to raise his hand and scratch his head in embarrassment, only sighed.

"Technically speaking, it's true, I did call her my wife," Serenity only smirked triumphantly at her,Kiyohime then backed away, looking at the two "spouses" with an expression of pain on her face, as if she had just been hit.

"Anchin?!" Kiyohime looked at Ainz almost imploringly, "Why, Anchin?!"

"It was necessary," the mage answered evasively, recalling his experience in the Singularity.

"Anchin?!" Kiyohime took a step back, almost falling from the edge of the podium, "Anchin... Ah, I understand!"

Berserker instantly filled with anger, after which the girl took a step forward, pointing at Serenity with her fan, "You forced him! for sure!"

"No, the Master himself did it," Serenity smiled, "I will remember this moment until the end of my life... And in all my subsequent ones."

"You little shit, you have bewitched him!" Kiyohime took a step, after which the tip of her fan almost struck the face of the smiling Serenity, "Anchin can only be with me, for I love him more than anyone!"

"You will have to wait in a long line to prove it," Serenity triumphantly smirked, after which she looked at Ainz, "Isn't that so, my husband?"

Kiyohime, furious at such a treatment, held out her hands in order to push Serenity away from Ainz. The Assassin only smiled at this fact, expecting Kiyohime to kill herself with Serenity's poison. Serenity did not consider the killing of rivals a worthy tactic - but she also did not plan to prevent them to die on their own.

"Enough," Ainz interrupted the conversation between the two girls, after which he looked at Kiyohime, who was in distress , "This matter can be discussed a little later. For now... Contract?"

"Yes," Kiyohime nodded distractedly, after which she shook the wizard's hand. The contract was successfully formed and Serenity, enjoying her complete superiority over her rival, who slowly left the podium, also moved away from Ainz.

However, Ainz was in a hurry to make a contract not because he was worried about Serenity and Kiyohime. He was impatient to try something new.

"Is that all, I suppose?" Roman looked at Ainz, but he, despite the fact that he had already spent all of his data crystals, answered in the negative.

"I can call one more... Servant," Ainz looked at the circle of summoning with interest. A special catalyst for a special summon, hmmm...

"Yes? It seemed to me that you had run out of crystals," Roman looked at Ainz with interest, but returned to the control panel.

Ainz took a step and his hand disappeared into his inventory.

Roman typed something in the control panel. The chief was trying to explain something to Kiyohime, who was barely thinking, while Serenity looked at the new completely defeated rival with a triumphant smile. Mozart and Jeanne led a dialogue in which Mashu joined in, while the Witch, standing in the corner, continued to stare at everyone present, periodically throwing glances at Kiyohime and Serenity and immediately hiding her eyes so that they could not notice her. No one paid any attention to Ainz.

Such a foolish act.

Roman typed the last number, after which the half-rings of the machine slowly spun, and looked at Ainz, who was watching with interest the machine running.

"I thought you spend all of these... Data crystals, that's how you called it?" Roman looked at Ainz while the machinery continued to spin.

"Yes," Ainz confirmed, "They are all spent."

Roman looked inquiringly at Ainz, - "And what then did you use as a catalyst?"

Ainz smiled. "The Grail."

All disputes in the room instantly subsided, and only the hum of a running machine continued to break the silence.

"Wait," Roman said slowly, "You just used... The Grail... The Holy Grail,an object capable of fulfilling any desires, the most coveted prize among all the Servants existing in all legends and stories ... As... A summoning catalyst?

"Yes," Ainz answered simply.

The machine, which had previously worked on a routine, suddenly stopped for a second - after which its half-rings immediately spun at a frantic speed, which had not happened before with any summons. The screen, which was quietly working before, suddenly sharply turned into an alarming red and issued a huge, flickering, menacing error that filled the entire screen.

"Attention!" - came from the husky speakers, - "The system is overloaded! Error Code: Unknown! External change detected! Discovered... Discovered... Discovered... "

"Mother of God," Roman said in shock, looking at how the unstoppable rings of the machine now spinning with inhuman speed, while the errors covered the screen one by one.

"Fuck," the Animusphere was more precise.

The rest of those present only watched as the most coveted reward in history, the Holy Grail, was used as a catalyst for summoning.

After a second, the machine suddenly turned itself off. The rings returned to their original position, the screen went blank, after which the machine fell silent.

"Didn't it work?" Ainz looked at the machine with disappointment.

After a second, the room was flooded with light.

The flash of light was more powerful than with any summoning before - even stronger than all summoning combined. It was as if a light grenade exploded in the room - instantly all those present, except Ainz, protected from such trivial trifles, closed their eyes - after which they could hear the sound of quiet steps and a voice.

"Well, well," the speaker seemed to be disappointed, "You could even managed to summon me, what luck — or or perhaps misfortune ? Hmm, and who is the unworthy dog who decided to pose as my Master? If he kneels now and begins to lick my boots with and offer an apology, then so be it, I will let him be my slave."

Ainz looked at the girl. The girl then took a step and looked at Ainz.

The speaker was very young - she was only sixteen or so in appearance. She was very short - her height was approximately at the level of Serenity, but everything else was different from Assassin. The girl possessed white, as if chalk,translucent skin, behind which however, veins did not appear - except for her eyes. The eyes of the summoned were red, as if bloodshot - however, not of anger, but in as a red pupil, the color of fresh blood.

The girl had a magnificent mane of white hair, descending over her shoulders and shoulder blades to the very ground, almost touching the floor. However, her white hair and white skin only made her black clothes contrast even more. It was as if the anthracite-black dress was woven from the very night sky and was laid on her body like clothes for an expensive porcelain doll - multiple snow-white lace like snow only further accentuated the darkness of her robes.

In the hands of the girl is an umbrella, currently closed and pointed onto the floor in the manner of a cane.

The summoned one reminded Ainz of Shalltear with something elusive, but she could not be summoned by Ainz, since she was part of his Phantasm.

However, the girl, the longer she gazed at the magician's face, the more pale she turned, although it seemed impossible with her skin.

The Grail corrupt desires. However, not all.

The Grail is a tool for satisfying desires. It is able to make all that its wielder desire for, into reality. Change history, gain immortality, grant power.

However, the Grail was not meant to be used this way. The true use of the Grail is not "fulfillment of desires". When creating the Grail, God's will was different - "for you will not take your wealth to paradise". In other words, the Grail is the embodiment of worldly desires - those petty and insignificant desires that were coveted by people. Money, luxury, delicacies, alcohol - all useless and miserable things that have no value in life in themselves - this is what the Grail actually granted.

The Grail did not fulfill all desires, it was true. The Grail only enabled a person to fulfill his desires.

Food for the dying of hunger or gold for the suffering poor is what it gave. Possibility.

But the Grail also did not fulfill wishes. A sufferer who has tasted food and wished from the Grail something more than the most base, most miserable things, would be punished for his audacity. The Grail was only a tool that allowed you to move towards your desires - and not giving it to you them if you wish.

Of course, this truth did not apply to all the Grails - some of them were really vicious in their granting of wishes, defiled and broken - however, this was not the case at this time.

The Grail does not fulfill impossible desires - it only allows you a chance to achieve them.

Therefore, if Ainz simply wished to recreate his friends from Ainz Ooal Gown, the Grail would corrupt this wish like any desire for the impossible. However, Ainz used the Grail to summon.

The summoning was entirely possible on its own. Hundreds of Servants were called without using the Grail - therefore, the Grail could not corrupt Ainz's desire on its own. However, Ainz did not only want to summon a Servant.

He wanted to reach out to his Ainz Ooal Gown. To his home, Yggdrasil. To his distant, forgotten adventure in the dead world. And in no circumstances, affect his friends and their lives.

If the Grail fulfilled such a desire, it would corrupt it, most likely by giving Ainz a curse from his native Yggdrasil, or by trapping him in a dead and deserted world, which would turn his whole existence into a nightmare.

However, Ainz used the Grail as a catalyst to summon Servants.

Paradoxically, it was the best way to fulfill Ainz's wish.

Because the summoning of Servants was possible. It was not even the Grail's machinations at that moment - it was the machine that was engaged in the summoning of the Servant. The Grail was used only as a catalyst. To allow him to summon an unusual Servant. A Servant not of this world.

The Grail was just a catalyst and a source of mana. It did not summon the Servant itself - it only acted as the target. And this, just the same, was not an impossible act.

Therefore, after a second, the girl, standing still, said in shock, - "Momonga…"

Ainz finally realized who was standing in front of him, "Cainabel..."

A second later, Cainabel fell to her knees, pressing her forehead to the floor.

"I ask you to forgive me for every stupidity and insolence I placed upon you!" The girl literally exploded in a panicked cry, "I will faithfully serve you as long as you wish! You will not meet a slave better than me! It is an honor for me to give you my life and honor to live for you!"

Ainz stumbled back a little from the speaker, after which all those present looked a little disbelievingly at the magician - then at the Servant, who only a second ago had suggested licking her shoes for the right to serve her.

"Yes, of course," Ainz eventually managed to gather himself, "Cainabel, we have not met for a long time."

"Of course, my lord!" - the girl shouted as joyfully as she could, without raising her head or even loosening the pressure of her forehead on the floor, "In my life there was no happier day than when I was able to give you my life! It is an honor for me that my power has been able to serve you, my lord!"

"Um, of course," Ainz hesitated a little. They met only once in the game - and that time they killed Cainabel, after which one of the players Ainz Ooal Gown took the title "Elder Blood" granted for the victory over a rare event boss, which Cainabel himself had been.

"Rise," said Ainz, after which he added uncertainly, "My child."

After that, Cainabel stopped pressing her forehead to the floor and slowly got up, so that she would be on her knees in front of Ainz, not daring to raise her face, still with a print of the floor on the thin skin of her forehead.

"Look at me," Ainz said, a little hesitantly, while trying to suppress the uncertainty in his voice. Cainabel slowly looked up, trying to look as subservient as possible, however the horror in her eyes would have been obvious to anyone but a blind man.

"This is a Servant's contract," Ainz held out his hand to the girl. She did not even begin to listen to the magician, instantly extended a hand to him.

"I agree to serve you forever, my lord," the girl smiled, "All my life and until death."

"Yes, of course." Ainz sighed. In the game, of course, they did not have the best of relationship - although what kind of relationship could be had with an NPC, who only boasted about his invincibility at the beginning of the battle, and then transformed into a huge monster? But in any case, Ainz would have expected hostility - but not that primal horror that was now hiding in the eyes of the girl.

He urgently needed to discuss something with Olga-Marie.

Only after sensing how the connection with the new Servant was formed, Ainz instantly turned to the chief - "Olga-Marie?"

"Yes?" The girl was a little shocked, obviously not expecting such a scene from Ainz she knew seemingly so familiar guy. The girl did not even pay attention to the fact that he did not call her chief.

"We need to talk," Ainz said, and then headed for the exit. The chief followed him, as if on a leash.

"Don't fight in here," Ainz said the last parting word, and then came out.


Cainabel continued to stand still, watching the girl back disappearing behind the sliding door and... The creature.

The creature in front of her could stretch a human shell over itself, such that even the girl herself spent several seconds to unravel the disguise - but it was impossible to hide what was inside, behind an empty shell, from her for sure.

Cainabel felt her Master moving farther and farther away, after which, only at that moment, when she realized that Momonga had really left, she was able to exhale and slowly, powerlessly fall to the floor, not even trying to get up from it, so as not to dirty her expensive clothes.

"Fine," she said, "Just fine. My plan failed, they killed me, my strength was taken away - and as if that was not enough, my killer also summoned me... And not anybody else, but Momonga himself! This is worse than being in hell! Worse than to be in all the hells of all religions at once! At least there is hope for at least some kind of salvation…"

After that, the girl removed her hands and said something into the air, not seeing anything in front of her.

All those present - Roman, Mashu,the other Servants - when they heard these sounds twitched, they wanted to wash themselves, manually collecting all the words spoken by the new Servant and throwing them away, the speech was so disgusting. However, none of those present understood a word in the long discussion- this required an "Speak Evil Tongues" trait, which only Ainz now possessed in the whole world except Cainabel. And if he heard what was said, he would only be surprised at how dirty and vile a curse in the language of the uncreated can be.

Cainabel covered her face with her own hands, after which she continued to lie like that for several seconds.

"Hey," Roman tried to take a step toward the girl. "Are you all right?"

"Close that shithole that you call your mouth, human trash," the girl instantly glanced at the guy, making him stumble in place, "If you even dare to think about..."

At that moment, the girl suddenly froze, remembering the words of her new Master. Don't fight, damn it!

"It's all right," the girl immediately said, rising from her seat, "Good... Human. Tell me what does Momonga's slaves do here? How not to get placed on the experiment table? What does he usually kill a slave for? What world is he taking over now?"

"What?" Roman blinked.

"A dumb human inbreed," the girl swore, after which she finally stopped paying attention to the guy, considering him something like a table, and turned to Mashu, "You!"

"I?!" - the girl was surprised.

"You look a little less stupid," Cainabel sighed. "What project is Momonga working on now?"

"He," the girl blinked. She was not accustomed to such outright rudeness, therefore, instead of firmly putting the girl in her place, she simply began to answer, - "He is saving humanity."

"Saving?" - Cainabel blinked and nodded right away, "Oh yes, of course, saving them from themselves and the like, okay... So, how is the conquest going?"

"What conquest?!" - in the end, the Dragon Witch could not stand it, that someone was trying to occupy her niche as a crude and strong Servant, "Who even are you?!"

"Shut up, trash," Cainabel didn't even turn in her direction, "Or I will suck all the blood from your body and make you drown in it."

The Witch sighed with indignation, but the girl only continued to look at Mashu, "You. How is the conquest going? Where are they being sent to fight? Who are the opponents? How many gods are there among them? Dragons? Demon lords? Great angels? Are other Higher Beings seen or... World Enemies?"

"What?" Mashu only blinked again, "What are you talking about ?! And why do you call Ainz, Momonga?"

"I am surrounded by idiots, brainless idiots!" Cainabel grabbed her head and then turned to Mashu. "I call him that, because his name is Momo..."

After that, Cainabel suddenly realized what was said.

"Repeat, what did you call him?" The girl suddenly tensed, "Ainz?"

"Yes," Mashu nodded.

"Ainz Ooal Gown?" Cainabel's white skin turned so white that it seemed as though it could be transparent, "That is... I heard correctly... Ainz... Ooal... Gown?"

"Yes," Mashu nodded. "That is his full name."

"That is, it's not just Momonga…" - Cainabel looked like a puppet whose strings had been cut, falling to her knees, - "Of course... Of course! Of course, because the leader of Ainz Ooal Gown will embody the entire Ainz Ooal Gown, of course!"

Those present simply did not know what they should do now with Cainabel.

"Don't tell me..." the girl suddenly started, and primitive horror flashed in her eyes, "That in this place... Is his palace now too... Together with him?!"

"What?" Mashu looked at Cainabel uncomprehendingly, but she stopped listening to anyone, lost in thought.

"The whole damned palace... The whole Great Tomb... The whole of Ainz Ooal Gown," the girl muttered as if in a delusional trance, "What happened... What have you done to call upon yourself that thing?!"

"We didn't do anything!" Mashu finally got a little bolder and tried to timidly protest at Cainabel, "Ainz came here to help us, he is saving humanity!"

"Good," Cainabel suddenly and abruptly calmed down when the deluge of information in her head crossed a critical threshold, "What are your plans for the day after tomorrow?"

"What?" Mashu lost her mind completely.

"I understood what he's going to do tomorrow, okay," Cainabel sighed. "What about the day after tomorrow?"

"Mankind was destroyed!" - in the end, unable to stand the words, Mashu exploded in a fury, "Do you even understand what this means?!"

"Do you even understand who Momo... Ainz is?!" The girl looked at Mashu and it seemed to her that madness blossomed in Cainabel's eyes, "You pulled out the most terrible creature in all of existing and nonexistent universes and yet don't understand a damn thing, do you? Do you know who this is?! Do you even realize what kind of being became your Master?! What stand near you?!"

Cainabel sucked in air - "He personally killed the Seven Deadly Sins. Not demons, not incarnations - Sins themselves! He killed the Twelve Great Virtues! He killed the Five Ways of Enlightenment! He, damn it, personally destroyed the Root - and recreated it again! He killed as many gods as has existed in your world! He killed the Eight Primordial Foundations of the World - the eight pillars that hold reality itself! He destroyed nine worlds with fire and sword, destroyed more countries than have ever formed in this world, uncovered greater secrets than all the secrets of your universe combined, did things that make your Creators tremble with fear and admiration! By the way - he also killed the Creators of his worlds! He has more wealth than any legend will describe, and more power than any madman can imagine, more minions than all people in the whole universe combined, and each of them is so strong that alone they can grind your universe to the ground! He destroyed whole races, whole species, whole worlds - and you don't know anything about this! The fact that you still exist is simply a misunderstanding that he still hasn't fixed! Brainless idiots!"

After this tirade, Cainabel finally became silent and sighed slowly. All the listeners could not understand what they should do now with this information.

"Is that true?" Serenity finally asked, causing Cainabel to turn slowly toward her.

"I don't even know which is worse," the girl blinked. "That this is all true — or that it is a list of the least significant achievements of the Last Being."

After a second, the door leading from the room opened, and Ainz appeared on the threshold, without the chief.

"I apologize for the delay," in the light of what was said about Ainz, this sounded like a mockery, startling everyone, "Your rooms are ready."

"I thank you, my lord, that you care about this wretched and unworthy slave," Cainabel immediately hit the ground with her forehead.

"Ah, yes, of course," Ainz hesitated, "Cainabel, you know... You don't have to do this every time..."

"Yes, of course, my lord, forgive me for my stupidity," the girl immediately rose from the floor, but remained on her knees, not looking at the magician's face, "From now on, I will better understand your desires."

Ainz only blinked at these words in incomprehension, after which he looked at the girls around the Servants, who recoiled from his gaze, as if it was fire. Other than Serenity, who did not change at all; instead, just smiling more at Ainz, and Kiyohime, in whose eyes a firm determination appeared, and then left the room.

They're all strange, these Servants.


Last Being - lesser skill included in the YGGDRASIL
 
Chaldea 9: Chief
Chaldea 9: Chief

Olga-Marie chewed a pen thoughtfully.

She really wanted to smoke, but there were no more cigarettes in Chaldea.

On the first day after her 'rescue', she collected all the cigarettes from all the survivor, under the pretext of destroying things that could cause a fire, and then she smoked it all with pleasure, but since then, for obvious reasons, she could not find more cigarettes.

'Damn!' - the girl mentally cursed, after which she threw the pen on the table and moved away from it, then she got up and stepped aside, staring at the large stained-glass window behind her.

Unfortunately, it was useless to look out the window now. Previously, from Olga-Marie's office one could see the beautiful view of the snowy distant peaks of the Alps and the pure nature, untouched by man. Now all she could see was just the bluish dome of the shimmering barrier and the flashes of orange-red flame barely visible behind it.

Reports, reports, reports...

All this made her head hurt. She just wanted to smoke a couple of cigarettes and forget about what happened as a nightmare.

But it was impossible.

The girl closed her eyes, after which she massaged her head and returned to the stack of documents lying on the table.

Report on the functionality of the main core...

The girl looked at the dry numbers.

The first block... Destroyed, restoration impossible.

The second block... Destroyed, restoration impossible.

The third block... Damaged, partially restored, functionality at sixty percent.

The fourth block... Damaged, work is underway to restore the functionality possibly at least increasing functionality by ten percent.

The girl leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.

The overall functionality of the core is at twenty-six percent. According to estimates, it will be possible to increase it to forty percent after completing all possible repair. The remaining parts must be rebuilt, for this they would need materials, which needs money and suppliers. All things that they can't get.

"Dog shit," the girl cursed almost helplessly. Forty percent of the core... And what she was supposed to do about the rest?

The core was an incredibly powerful thing, capable of creating so much energy that it would be enough to power half the world for a couple of months. But it was not without limit.

There were no perpetual machine in nature. At least none achievable by a simple mind for sure. Of course, once her father, Marisbury Animusphere, came dangerously close to unraveling this phenomenon, creating the core of Chaldea, but even he failed to create an eternal source of energy. One hundred, two hundred, three hundred, five hundred thousand years? Yes. Forever? No.

Under normal conditions, the Animusphere would not even have thought about it. For her a century of reserves would have been enough and a thousand times more. But the conditions around her were anything but definitely not ordinary.

What happened behind the barrier was unexplainable from the point of view of any normal person, scientist or mage. There was no way to even assess what level of damage the Chaldean shields were holding back now.

Chaldea would have survived even if it had been stuck in the center of a supernova explosion. The only question is - for how long?

At the time before the calamity, Chaldea possessed ninety-seven percent of its maximum capacity of energy. After the explosion, twenty-five.

"Lev, what the hell?" - the girl looked at the document in front of her as if it were her personal enemy.

But it was not scary.

The important thing is that now, after the restoration of some part of the core functionality, the energy level was equal to twenty-four percent.

Several teams were able to restore part of the core functionality, but the energy reserves did not increase. They decreased.

The shields of the Chaldea could withstand even the hell created outside its borders. The question is - for how long?

Olga-Marie reached into her pocket for cigarettes and cursed. Empty.

Ainz also gave her an additional source of headache. Okay, she could get along with the Servants, but the creature he summoned... Animusphere wasn't even sure she wanted to know where he had dug it from. All that Ainz said was that she was an evil vampire god who once wanted to destroy an entire world. And she almost did it, but at the last possible second she was stopped.

By Ainz himself.

Who the hell is Ainz - the third question that haunted Olga-Marie.

Mechanically, she patted the pockets of her pants, checking for a pack of cigarettes before pulling herself together. Ugh, she's losing her mind!

Having escaped from the report again, the girl went to the chair placed nearby and then fell on it like a doll whose strings have been cut.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door - after which Olga-Marie looked up and rose from her stupor immediately, then trying to take on the most respectable of appearance.

"Come in!" She commanded, making sure that her hair was not tousled after lying down. Although considering that she changed her hair and began to wear it in a long tail, this was not a problem for her.

The front door to the office then slowly opened, after which the one about whom Animusphere was just thinking about appeared on the threshold.

'Speak of the Devil' - the girl sighed, "Ainz?"

"Chief," the magician greeted, after which he took a step inside.

"Did something happen?" The girl asked instantly, after which she looked around the magician.

"No, nothing, I just wanted to formally report on the completion of the mission," the mage answered calmly, closing the door behind him. The girl looked at him, and then sighed.

"It would be worth doing it while in the presence of both Roman and Da Vinci," Olga-Marie nevertheless sank a little on her chair, relaxing her back a little.

"I thought about it, but decided to report to you first," Olga-Marie glanced at Ainz, after which she remembered that he had behaved in the same manner with her in the past and relaxed a little, "Good, but still it would be better to talk about with their full company, if there is not something that concerns me specifically."

Ainz, stopping for a second, thought for a moment, recalling everything that had happened in the Singularity, after which he shook his head, "No, nothing of the kind."

"Good," the girl nodded, "Finally, some good news."

Ainz, however, having waited a second, also gave a voice again, - "I would also like to know about the Servants."

"About what exactly?" The chief looked at the magician carefully.

"Do they cause problems?" Ainz explained, "I am particularly interested with Cainabel."

"Ah, that one," Olga-Marie remembered the girl, "Nothing special. Offends everyone right and left, refuses to approach people, scares the especially frisky ones - but nothing really irreparable happened. I confess I expected the worst."

"Me too," Ainz nodded thoughtfully, "I admit, I thought she would kill a couple of people on the first day — especially given her background..."

For a second, Olga-Marie froze, reflecting on what was just said. Servants could kill people as much as other people could kill people. Even their Master is not safe - although the Master was protected by the Command Spells. However, if the Servant was no longer bound by such restrictions - there was no direct prohibition on killing their own Master - although for most Servants this meant suicide, since very few Servants could survive without the support of the Master especially without his mana.

However, what interested Animusphere more in this matter was not a question regarding killing people.

"You never told me about who this one is..." the girl sighed. "Cainabel. And why her name is so similar to the two that I know of - Cain and Abel."

"Ah, that," Ainz paused for a second, "This ... Not quite the information I would like to share."

"Hm," Olga-Marie only sighed. In the end, she expected something like that.

"She is the god of vampires," Ainz said, in the end, "You can call her... The true ancestor of vampires?"

"True Ancestor, huh," Olga-Marie grinned, "Just what we need right now."

After that, an awkward silence fell in the room.

"And you killed her?" The chief looked at the magician carefully.

"Not really me, but yes, that's true," Ainz nodded. "There were several of us... Although, I could do it alone, probably..."

After that, Ainz suddenly stopped short, as if he had given out extra information. Olga-Marie grinned at what was said.

'Who the hell are you, Ainz Ooal Gown?' - the girl reached for her cigarettes, and then she jerked her hand. No, she'll definitely go crazy with this!

"Chief, is something wrong?" This time, Ainz himself asked the girl what she had just did.

"I just really want to smoke," the girl explained.

"Smoking is bad for your health," as if some caring older brother Ainz uttered a warning, causing the Animusphere to grin.

"Whoever is destined to burn will not drown," the girl grinned at her own fatalistic joke. "The only problem is that the cigarettes are gone."

"Hm," Ainz thought for a second, "Do you really want to smoke that badly, chief?"

For a second, Olga-Marie wondered if this was some kind of test from the magician, but remembering who she was talking to, drove away these thoughts from herself - "Very much."

"Okay," Ainz sighed, and then held out his hand, "Just don't tell anyone that I did this. Create Greater Item."

After a second, Animusphere felt a strong wave of mana. It seemed as if it would cause her to be knocked down, smacked into a wall and smeared into a thin layer - but the image subsided as quickly as it appeared. Olga-Marie, having thrown off her stupor, looked at the magician, after which she saw a pack of something resting on his arm.

More precisely, Animusphere guessed that it was a pack of cigarettes. The small box was absolutely black, with gold embossing around the edges, which made it look no worse than some kind of jewelry box in which the heirlooms are kept.

"Is that?" Olga-Marie glanced at the thing that had been offered to her.

"Cigarettes," Ainz sighed, "I, of course, have never done anything like this before, but there are no theoretical prohibitions on creating this — it's still not food, so Create Greater Item should do the work."

After that, Olga-Marie somehow stared at the pack of cigarettes in a special way, after which she extended her hands to Ainz and took it.

Real.

That is, of course, Servants were able to create physical objects, magis could also do it. Magecraft is generally an amazing tool that could be used for many things.

But Olga-Marie did not remember a single mage who would create cigarettes with his magic. Nobody would have thought of such a thing.

Poison, creatures, weapons, anything. But cigarettes?

'Although I guess this is also poison in some sense,' the girl grinned, and then opened the pack.

Surprisingly, the smell of cheap tobacco did not hit her nose.

'Although' - she took out a cigarette from the pack and set fire to it with a small spark made by her own magic - 'Is creating cigarettes really that amazing compared to everything he can do?'

After that, the Animusphere drew in a deep breath and broke into a blissful smile. Yes, that's exactly what she lacked all this time.

The girl again smoked the cigarette, after which she closed her eyes.

Ideal. The light taste of tobacco, without impurities, a barely noticeable smell...

The girl could not resist and smoked again.

Amazing!

Ainz, looking at the Animusphere, sighed, - "However, I still think that it is unhealthy."

The Animusphere just nodded at this incomprehensibly, feeling how with a new puff her body becomes more relaxed and she felt her problems slowly fade into the background.

A second later, the ash fell from the end of the cigarette and fell on the girl's finger, causing her to jerk reflexively. Ash, obeying the laws of physics, immediately flew off her finger, falling to the floor. The Animusphere, opening her eyes, looked at it, and then peered into her hand.

A small burn. It will disappear in about ten minutes. After that, she looked at the cigarette, which continued to smolder, and then at Ainz, who grinned.

"And really, the fish will not teach you to breathe underwater," the girl sighed and looked at the magician, "Tell me... How do you do all of this?"

"Do what?" Ainz looked at Olga-Marie carefully.

"All this," the girl vaguely waved her hand, outlining a circle in the air, "You understand management, control a bunch of Servants, fight on the front line, make friends, kill gods, solve world-class problems in a couple of weeks... How do you do all of this?"

Olga-Marie grinned and smoked a cigarette again.

"I don't know if this is just my feeling or not," the chief this time rose from her seat and moved to the table. In the drawer of the table lay an ashtray, in which she shook off a smoldering cigarette, - "But I seem so insignificant next to you... I envy you, you know."

Ainz, having heard this, stopped for a second.

'Of course,' the chief grinned. 'I am not the first one to tell him this. What is the use of my words for such a person?'

Ainz, froze, as if thinking deeply.

"Chief..." Ainz sighed, but the girl interrupted him.

"Olga," the girl said calmly, "You can call me Olga. I don't think that I have the right to make you call me a chief."

"Good, Olga," Ainz sighed, "I think... You overestimate me."

After what was said, Olga burst out laughing, almost dropping the cigarette, - "Really? Overestimate? I would think that you are fishing for compliments or are displaying pretentious modesty if I knew you a little less."

"Although," the girl sighed immediately, "It's not that I know a lot about you. How long have I known you formally - about four weeks?"

"Yes, something like this," Ainz nodded. "Although, it's a very long time, actually..."

"Long?" Olga-Marie looked at the magician.

"Yes, there are not many people with whom I talk with," Ainz said, and then corrected himself, "I talked with. Four weeks is a good length of time."

"It is possible," the girl did not argue with the magician, "But it doesn't matter. I'm not talking about that anyway. You know, modesty is not quite right for you. At least that kind of modesty."

"I'm just not very used to this," Ainz looked at the girl carefully, "I... I'm used to the fact that most of the people I talk to are not quite alive."

"Alive?" Olga-Marie looked at the magician, and then remembered. Right, necromancer.

For some reason, right now, the mention of such an important information sounded completely inappropriate. Frankly, she even managed to forget about the fact that he is a necromancer. That he is a terrible mage who brings sacrifices and kills on a massive scale, a terrible vivisector of a scientist.

Somehow the girl could not match this information with the image of the Ainz that she knew. Quiet, modest, charismatic. Caring even...

Well, to some extent.

After that, the Animusphere glanced at the cigarette and extinguished the smoldering stump.

However, Animusphere remembered. She remembered this eerie figure of a huge skeleton, dressed in the mantle of the most perfect cut that you can imagine, decorated with gold embroidery and arcane symbols. She remembered the oppressive presence of a huge powerful and completely indifferent mass, devouring all light and hope with one's aura of indescribable power.

"Who are you?" The girl looked at the magician carefully.

After asking a question, he froze.

"I..." he began, after which he fell silent for a couple of seconds, "I cannot tell you this."

"I didn't expect any answer," the girl grinned, after which she opened the pack again and took out a new cigarette, "But still... Can you tell me something?"

Ainz thought for a second, after which he finally took a few steps to a standing chair and sat on it, "Something... Something about me, maybe yes."

The Animusphere sighed with satisfaction. It is small, but still a victory.

The girl glanced at the nearby sheets of paper, after which she closed her eyes. Reports may wait a bit. She already has ripples in her eyes from the endless lines and numbers.

"Tell me about your victory over this... Cainabel," the Animusphere finally decided.

"This…"- Ainz thought for a second, -"This is not the most exciting of story, actually. Backthen, an event happened, as a result of which Cainabel gathered enough strength to pose a threat. She has existed for a long time, but did not appear directly in the open, most of the time just remaining something like a rumor or a famous figure of legend, but then she appeared in full force. She had gathered enough strength to threaten the whole world - many subordinates, many pawns, many spells. She gathered in her fortress the most powerful of servants and attacked the whole world. It was... somewhat expected of her to attack with her full force, what is unexpected however was just that it was she herself who is leading the attack. We then considered her a great threat and set off with eight people — I was among those who went against her, but... In the end, it was a disappointing battle."

"Disappointing?" The Animusphere glanced at the magician carefully, "In what sense?"

"We thought that if she was such a dangerous god, then she would be very strong," Ainz exhaled, "She was... No, she was still a problematic opponent, it would have been difficult for me to win one on one in battle then. But there were eight of us, so at that time we... At first we didn't even believe it when we defeated her - we expected that some kind of trap would be activated and it would kill us, or she would be reborn stronger than before, or something else would happen and maybe one of her henchmen had taken her place... But no. We did indeed just killed her. It was very... Unpleasant."

"Unpleasant?" Animusphere tightened her hold on the cigarette. "Interesting choice of word."

"Unjustified expectations," Ainz sighed. "We knew so much about her and heard rumors about her so often, we expected an invincible leviathan, and yet, we found a simple god. Not the weakest - but not even the strongest with whom we fought with before."

"Before?" Olga-Marie grinned at the chance of gathering more information, "So you killed other gods then?"

"Well, ahem." Ainz suddenly hesitated. Olga-Marie understood that he clearly did not want to share this information, - "We... We killed other gods on some occasion."

"How much?" Olga-Marie looked at the magician.

"A certain number," the magician answered very evasively.

"A certain number is a very loose concept," Olga-Marie looked at the mage with a mocking gaze and drew in a cigarette again, "I can say that you killed one hundred or two hundreds."

"More," - from the utterance Olga-Marie suddenly choked on the smoke and coughed.

"What?" She glanced at Ainz, speaking with her still short breath.

"This number is more than two hundred," Olga-Marie stared disbelievingly at the magician.

"Yeah," she said vaguely, blinking a couple of times, "If you said the first, then say the second. How much... I can't believe that I am asking this... How many gods did you kill?"

"I'm not quite sure of the answer," Ainz said, "There were too many. I lost count."

"Yeah, sure," Olga-Marie sighed. "Communicating with you is an easy way to earn an inferiority complex. How much is the approximate number?"

"Not sure," Ainz sighed. "Some of them looked like gods, but they were not called gods — and some called themselves gods, but they were not."

"Okay, then," the Animusphere thought, "Then tell me how many of them were equal to the Servants?"

"I…" - Ainz hesitated, - "I'm not sure what level the Servants is exactly…"

"Okay, how many of them were stronger than" - Olga-Marie fell silent, - "Stronger than Mashu?"

"Mashu?" Ainz suddenly stared at Olga-Marie, "I... I'm really not sure about the answer for that. I did not count such opponents."

Olga-Marie burst out laughing with the absurdity of the answer.

"Great, just great!" The girl smiled happily, "And this man says that I am overestimating him! Just great!"

After that, Olga-Marie could not resist it any longer and just laughed.

Ainz, left standing, only looked at the girl, who fell out of reality for several minutes, literally bursting her guts at what was just said.

"Ha ha ha... Just great!" The girl finally brushed the ashes from the cigarette away and was able to pull herself together again, looking at the magician with a smile, "Okay, let's go from the big numbers and we will reduce them gradually. More than a million?"

"More," Ainz nodded, causing the Animusphere to choke.

"I didn't expect such an answer," the girl answered honestly. "Well, then... More than a billion?"

The worst thing, in her opinion, was that after what was said, Ainz was deep in thought for a moment. He was really counting the total, trying to remember the number in his mind, then slowly nodded.

"Most likely yes," Ainz nodded. "Something like that number."

The Animusphere, astounded, only pulled another cigarette.

And what can she say to that?

Billion... Billion...

There are currently only seven and a half billion people on Earth.

Looking at the window, behind which only a shield flickered, protecting them from the fiery inferno, the girl corrected herself - that existed until recently.

A billion is thirteen percent of the world's population.

According to the most optimistic of estimation, for the entire length of time that humanity has existed as a species, there were only about one hundred billion people that have ever lived.

A billion is one percent of the world's population that has ever existed. A whole percent.

How many of them were as strong as Mashu?

This was a phenomenally stupid question.

Mashu was far from being the strongest Servant. There were magi stronger than Mashu. But how many were there?

On the whole earth, when it used to have seven and a half billion people, there were no more than one and a half, maybe even two millions of magi. Mages comparable in strength to Mashu, a Servant albeit a very weak one, but a Servant, out of these two million... Not more than five thousand? Maybe even ten.

Total is the ten thousand.

Even if one takes into account the past, even if one takes into account the Age of Gods, the great heroes of the ancient world, the ancient myths of the Earth... How many of them were so strong? Yes, in the Age of Gods, magic was accessible to most of the people, great heroes were born time after time, myths arose on their own and monsters that could not be found in the modern world plied the earth. But this does not mean that every person who lived at that time was as strong as a Servant. Even if we assume that there were a hundred, no, a thousand times more - it would still leave only ten million.

This is exactly a hundred times less than the number recalled by Ainz.

"How did you do this?" The Animusphere glanced at the magician and grinned. "If anyone had said that he had killed even a hundred Servants, everyone would have looked at him like a madman. A billion is a number of statistics. In a nuclear war, it is estimated that only four hundred million will die…"

"That calculation is wrong," Ainz suddenly interrupted the girl. "Seven hundred and twenty milliom will die from the explosions itself and another two and a half billion in the next ten years, from hunger, diseases, chaos, and local conflict."

Animusphere suddenly broke off her train of thoughts and looked at Ainz.

Ainz looked at her seriously. Not at all in his usual manner. Without even stating a fact.

He looked at her seriously.

"In a nuclear war, seven hundred twenty million will die on the first day," Ainz said this clearly, and then began to list, "USA, Russia, China, India, Israel, Japan, Germany, Great Britain, France, Pakistan..."

With each spoken name, Animusphere seemed to be sobbing from the effects of nicotine.

"Only forty-eight countries will become priority targets for the nuclear strikes," Ainz said this calmly, and then sighed, "But absolutely all countries will suffer. In sixty-eight countries, the overthrowing of its government will occur in the first year. Another forty - five years. No government could retain their full control of their own country. One hundred and fifteen new countries will be formed. Of these, eighty-four will collapse in the next twenty years. Another seventy-four wars will take place, from global to the local scale, in the next hundred years. As a result, the population will only regain its original number of population before the nuclear attacks of seven and a half billion people in sixty-five years."

Animusphere was silent.

Slowly, she put out her cigarette and looked up at Ainz.

"How do you know that?" She asked. Ainz suddenly looked up at her.

"I just know that," said the magician, after which became silent.

Olga-Marie was silent. Ainz was silent.

Both of them were thinking about something different.

Olga-Marie silently took out another cigarette.

"You know," she said suddenly, "Just a minute ago I thought that I envy you - that I would kill to have your strength, knowledge and skills... But now... I'm glad that I am not you. I do not have to know what you know and did not have to see what you saw."

Ainz was silent.

"This is strange," the girl sighed, "In but a second — and you are just an office worker, good-natured and soft. In another second - and you say that you have killed hundreds of gods. Another second - and you talk about a nuclear war as if you saw it yourself."

"I haven't seen it," Ainz said, "But I saw the consequences."

The girl looked up at the magician.

Ainz continued to sit silently for another couple of seconds before he nevertheless rose slowly from his chair, "Yes, I guess I'll go... I still need to deal with the Servants. Good luck, Olga."

The Animusphere nodded silently.

For some reason, she did not want to let the magician go.

Perhaps she wanted to hear about how he fought with the gods and called his battles with them "disappointing." Perhaps she wanted to know what else he could do with his magic. Perhaps she wanted to ask a couple of tips on how she could better herself in leading Chaldea.

Perhaps she simply did not understand why the words about the deaths of billions of people, about wars, about hunger and chaos from his mouth sounded so dry, strange and scary. As if he knew it himself. As if he saw the nuclear fire fall on defenseless civilians.

Animusphere extinguished her cigarette and looked at the black pack lying on the table, surrounded by a gold rim in which the cigarettes rested, and then pulled out another one. She lit one and drew in the poisoned smoke.

Perfect taste, perfect smell, perfect strength.

The girl looked at the closed door, behind which Ainz had long been hidden by, and took a puff.

Who the hell are you, Ainz Ooal Gown?


Ainz walked thoughtfully along the corridors of Chaldea.

He did not see the nuclear war.

He didn't see how the bombs fell, rockets fly, explosions devouring the cities.

He did not live in the chaos of the postwar years. Years after the Third World War.

He did not see the great famine, the nuclear winter, the long night and the ashes that covered the sky.

He was born later.

After they re-established society. After the Arcological Agreements were signed. After the full support complex was first developed.

He was born much later. He read about this once upon a time.

He received only primary education. The minimum necessary to understand the world.

But understanding the world requires knowledge of history.

Ainz remembered this.

He remembered the lines in the book describing the end of the old world.

The full list of countries. Estimated count of victims. Years of the Great Famine.

He remembered them because he knew that these lines were important.

And then he ended up in this world.

And vowed not to allow it to happen again.

"Servants," Ainz suddenly smiled. The collection, of course, is beautiful.

But there is still something else for which he fights for.


Commander - one of the basic classes, useful primarily for various leaders, such as strategists or raid leaders, as well as for some types of summoners. This class focuses on various types of support, enhancement spells, and also the removing of some types of curses or debuffs from other players. An interesting fact is that despite the fact that this class is playable and completely accessible from the start to any player, due to the close integration of the gameplay of this class and the role assigned to the player,what usually happens is that most often this class is chosen by those players that are already leaders or commanders in a team on their own, which theoretically can contribute to the effectiveness of using such a class due to the coincidence of the class's abilities and the player's ideas about their own tactics, strategies and abilities.
 
Chaldea 10: Cainabel
Chaldea 10: Cainabel

Cainabel trudged through the corridors, feeling extremely irritated and somewhat furious. In just the time, the last few days, that Cainabel was summoned it was already becoming quite a familiar state of mind to her.

"Fight me!" Came the cry of a girl just behind Cainabel, a sound as loud like thunder.

More than anything, Cainabel wanted to crush this "Dragon Witch" like the worm she is. Cut off her hands and feet, and then finally chop off her head and enjoy draining the blood from the miserable still living remains - in general, just do what Cainabel did all her life before.

'No fighting' damn it.

"Fight me, jerk!" The girl's scream at the already annoyed Cainabel makes her even more annoyed than from the fact the she has to endure being near humans. But still a little less than from the fact that Cainabel was just summoned as a Servant, and not just by anyone, but by Momo… Ainz himself.

It was worse than all the cries of the worm put together.

"A brainless creature," Cainabel could not stand it anymore and turned around after another scream from the girl, almost making her bump into her at full speed,"Even in order for your brainless yapping to actually annoy me, you still need to become a couple orders of magnitude more powerful."

It was a bluff - Cainabel had no patience with anyone regardless of their level of strength. However, the worm did not know this, and Cainabel in any case could not kill this annoying louse, being tied hand and foot by the words, orders really, of her Master, so the worm, with a little more than a glance, took a different approach to the situation.

"The omnipotent True Ancestor is afraid to lose?" The worm tried to grin smugly at Cainabel.

Cainabel clenched her fists.

She now wanted nothing more than to crush the head of the girl in front of her.

Who does she think she is?! Does she even understand who she is talking to?! Does she realize how easy it is for Cainabel to just break her head and look inside her skull in search of a brain that was clearly absent?

But still, Cainabel could not do this. Not while she is being bound by the orders of Ainz.

But still she wanted to retaliate to the girl in front of her with at least something.

Cainabel did not spend much time with the rest of the Servants - except for one interesting exception. And this entertaining exception provided her with some information.

"I really don't understand how it was possible to betray you," Cainabel glared at the girl in front of her with a scornful look, "When trash is dumped to a neighbor, this can be considered a betrayal of the neighbor, but not a betrayal to the trash thrown out, it is treated just like all trash should be."

The girl opposite her choked on her own words. Anger, hatred flashed in her eyes for a second, but most importantly - pain.

Cainabel saw this pain and immediately broke into a cruel smile, - "On the other hand, a brainless cattle taken to a slaughterhouse to a neighbor is more likely to be considered a gift, especially if after it is just barbecued. Tell me, are you garbage or cattle?"

The girl opposite her silently lowered her head, clenching her fists in anger. However, in this expression there was not only anger - but also pain. Cainabel's words hurt the girl deeply - and that was good. The more Cainabel hurt her, the longer she will fall behind her. Of course, then she will confront her with a vengeance - but then Cainabel will just need to redouble her efforts in order to trample the girl in the mud for a little longer.

"Oh, I apologize," Cainabel finally decided to deliver her finishing blow. Perhaps a little later she will regret it, but now she will enjoy the moment to its fullest, - "I completely forgot, you are not able to determine who you really are. You, after all, are just an unsuccessful alteration of a real person without your own name, the one with only a nickname from the unwashed masses. Tell me what does it feels like to live without a name, Dragon Witch?"

The Witch could not bear this anymore and swung her hand. For Cainabel , the movement seemed insanely slow and awkward, but she did not bother to defend herself. A second later, a resounding slap in the face was struck at Cainabel by the hand of the Dragon Witch.

"Excellent," Cainabel grinned. "Now I can say that I was just defending myself."

In the next second, Cainabel felt her summons seething, trying to be the first to get out at the call of their mistress.

Chaldea will not be able to withstand her Noble Phantasm, but in order to kill one little thing, she has enough of the meager part of her power that she possessed now. Yes, the Witch will probably be reborn later, but Cainabel will receive the pleasure from killing her.

"Cainabel," came a voice, stopping the girl in her tracks instantly. Damn, it's Ainz!

"My beloved Master," Cainabel instantly fell on her knee, without looking up, "How can I serve you?"

"What is happening here?" Judging by Ainz's voice he was ... A little confused and angry.

But for what?

Cainabel did not kill any of the people - she even specially turned off her abilities that could kill them by accident. And the Witch hit her first, so Cainabel's intention to defend herself could hardly mean anything wrong.

"I hate you..." said a voice behind Cainabel, and the vampire smiled, "And you too! I hate you all!"

The next moment, when the Witch rushed away, Cainabel grinned. Disrespecting Ainz? That sounds like carte blanche to trash her fucking brains out!

"My lord!" - Cainabel hid the pleasure in her voice behind the pretense of hardly restrained anger, "This scoundrel dared to offend you! Let me, your most faithful servant, present her head to you as a gift!"

Cainabel had already prepared to hear the encouraging "Yes" and was severely disappointed.

"No," Cainabel winced. Why is it "no?" "And we need to talk for a moment."

Cainabel froze. Where did she miscalculate?!

Ainz was ... a Dark Lich Mage who killed entire pantheons for fun, exterminating peoples and nations, the Root of Evil - he should have been glad that he would get rid of the annoying girl in the form of this Witch. Instead, Ainz sounded like... A very saddened father.

'Where did I miscalculate ?!' - Cainabel panic soared immediately in her mind. That is, she was told that she was not to fight - but it was a simple rule, like when Cainabel herself forbade her minions from killing each other. She didn't have to love them - and, in general, if one of them even thought about speaking in her presence without her highest permission - she herself would have killed them, not to mention shouting words like "I hate you".

However, Ainz, who reached for the nearest door, behind which is one of dozens, if not hundreds of unused dorm rooms, was discovered, only inviting Cainabel to follow him with a gesture and then entered the room himself. Cainabel rose, and then slowly trudged along after him.

The room was small, narrow, with only one bed, a wardrobe and a table. Cainabel winced, remembering her beautiful huge bed made of black gold and dragon stone, which remained in her ruined castle. She lived surrounded by a lot of luxury and trying to fit her here was... Just insulting, to say the least.

Ainz took a step, after which he pulled up a chair and sat down on it.

"Close the door," he gave the command, and Cainabel obeyed, closing the door behind her, remaining standing in front of Ainz, "Sit down."

According to the words, she sat opposite to Ainz on the bed.

'This bed spring's stick into my thin skin' - Cainabel grimaced internally - 'This rubbish is for Servants and people, not for me.'

Not that , currently, she was not a Servant herself.

"Cainabel ," Ainz sighed. She really did not like the sigh, - "Why did you do this?"

It was foolish to assume that a creature with his experience and acuity of mind would not be able to add two plus two, however, for this case Cainabel had a plan prepared - "My Master, can that miserable fake of a Servant be worthy of the honor bestowed by you - to fight for you? I just wanted to weed out those unworthy of this honor. My lord, the Servant should be an ideal tool in the hands of his lord, and not a brainless beast rushing at every red flag…"

"Enough," Ainz interrupted Cainabel with a practiced gesture of his hand, "Cainabel, my well-being, you cares for it a lot less than what you shows."

Ainz knew.

Cainabel froze.

Of course he would have known about it sooner or later, but Cainabel hoped for later. At least until after she managed to 'retire' several Servants from the game and strengthen her position for Ainz as someone who understands him perfectly.

But Cainabel still understood that the probability of such an outcome was far from zero. She was a god, and not just some trifle that manage to crawl itself into the grains of the Root and imagines itself omnipotent, but a real, Elder God, who have already existed from the birth of the world. However, when she came to the world - Ainz was already old and legendary.

Technically speaking, Cainabel was right and wrong at the same time. She really did exist in the game from the very beginning of the "world", from the very start of the game, appearing in the form of lore, however, she "came to the world" in the flesh only in the fifth anniversary of the launch of the game in the form of a real interactable NPC. By this time, Ainz have managed not only to grow to the maximum level, but also to complete a large number of quests - therefore, in some strange literal sense of the word, Cainabel was right - she did exist from the very birth of the world, but Ainz was already old and legendary at the time when Cainabel appeared in this world.

In any case, it didn't mean anything now - it only meant that Cainabel was aware that her actions and thoughts were like an open book for Ainz. It's just that Cainabel thought that she could avoid Ainz's attention long enough.

Sadly, she failed.

"My lord," no matter how much Ainz knew about her, she wasn't even going to show openly that she could even theoretically dislike Ainz, for this would result in painful torture at best — Cainabel knew, she used to do that herself, "I don't crave for anything more than serving you and it hurts me to realize that you have to be content with so... Pitiful Servants."

"Pitiful?" Ainz looked at the girl, letting her explain.

"Humans," she practically spat out the word, and there was no pretense in this hatred, "Brainless worms swarming in the shit of history... Are they worthy to serve you, my lord? Wouldn't it be better to get rid of them all and allow more worthy servants - perhaps like me, to serve you?"

In this way, Cainabel could hope to grow into one of the trusted lieutenants - Cainabel knew that they were usually not killed for fun. At least Cainabel herself has killed no more than a dozen in her very, very long life.

"Cainabel," Ainz sighed, "I don't think you understand why I need Servants at all."

Cainabel froze for a second. Damn, she is in a bind!

"My lord," the girl smiled the most seductive smile that she could — however, while still not looking up at Ainz, "I, in the worst of my nightmares, could not imagine that I could offend you even with the thought that you are unable to do anything. I am just saying that not every job is worthy of your personal presence. Someone must communicate with the mob, fight hordes of annoying flies and serve you wine during the festivities. All I want to do is make sure that the chosen Servants are worthy of this honor."

"No," Ainz's voice sounded like a thunderbolt from the blue, "This is also not the reason why I am gathering the Servants."

Cainabel froze. So he was not looking for minions... Damn it, why else were the Servants needed?!

"Ah, my lord," Cainabel nodded knowingly, trying to hide her ignorance behind a false understanding, "How could I be so blind! I understand it now!"

Cainabel nervously sweated.

"How could I have been so blind that I hadn't deduced about your ingenious plan before!" Cainabel tried to hide the lies in flattery right away, "Truly, just by looking at everything I know, I can touch part of your wisdom!"

Cainabel hoped that flattery was enough to hide her misunderstanding.

"Really," Ainz said calmly, "And what is my brilliant plan?"

Cainabel froze.

He saw through her! He saw her deception through!

Cainabel wanted to laugh nervously and straighten her collar — although she didn't even have a collar — it suddenly became so hot and stuffy in the room.

"I…" - Cainabel tried to come up with a suitable lie, -"I would not dare to express your ingenious plan into words, because even words can steal part of its genius - I do not have enough intelligence to even imagine all the layers of your plan…"

"You have no idea, do you?" Ainz interrupted her. Cainabel froze in horror. Of course, she could have guessed that someone with his mind and experience could reveal her lies at a glance - "Don't worry. This is something like a "birds of a feather"... Ahem, in any case, you probably don't understand why I collect the Servants."

Cainabel did not understand.

She didn't understand why at all.

Any reasonable man, not burdened by stupid dogmatic morality, moved only for one thing. Power.

To gain power, however, there were two paths - conquest and personal strength. Cainabel herself pursued this goal - in the past, she gathered henchmen and gathered strength in order to devour the whole world - to bleed the blood from all the monsters, heroes, gods - and to drink it all, to devour without leaving a trace, in order to gain ultimate power. To become a World Enemy.

This did not happen. In the thousands of world lines that she knew of, this did not happen. She was always defeated, destroyed completely - although Ainz Ooal Gown rightfully took the prize in terms of how to defeat her in the most cruel way. They did not just level her down into the earth - as an Elder God, she could return again, just a couple of hundred years later. Ainz Ooal Gown however took her power - he absorbed her power just like she drank the power of other lower beings, and then threw her into the abyss.

This proved that Cainabel and Ainz were alike. Cainabel wanted to have power - Ainz too as well, their endless search and accumulation of strength told her about it. Cainabel wanted to rule - that was her plan after gaining strength. Ainz Ooal Gown also wanted to rule - he constantly competed with many other forces, powerful and not. They managed to subjugate the whole world... For a short while, all of Yggdrasil - only for a few moments. But they did it.

Therefore, Cainabel did not know what Ainz was seeking now. To seize the world, to subordinate all the remnants by force - to rule at his pleasure. Wasn't that Ainz's ultimate plan?

"No," Cainabel was forced to admit, "No, I don't understand."

Ainz sighed, while only looking at Cainabel.

She will not be killed for her stupidity? Cainabel could only hope so.

"Cainabel," the lich under the mask of a human, "Our personal acquaintance was short and all that you can know about me is somewhat... One-sided."

Cainabel jerked like a slap in the face. She really did know only little about Ainz - at least no more than any other inhabitant of Yggdrasil - but even that was enough for her.

"At the moment I am not pursuing the same goals as before," the magician finally said.

Cainabel froze, startled. In what sense is he not pursuing it?

"I do not want to rule this world," Ainz finally said unequivocally, "And I do not want to see the Servants only as my minions."

Cainabel thought deeply, quickly sorting through the options in her head.

The desire for strength and conquest was as natural for any Yggdrasil creature as breathing - at least for those miserable creatures who had not gotten rid of this bad habit a long time ago, for example, by becoming an undead.

But…

Cainabel suddenly froze, carefully examining the thought from all sides.

Ainz said only of an unwillingness to conquer. Not about personal strength.

"Servants..." - Ainz paused, "Are very valuable to me. This does not mean that I will not be able to sacrifice them... Or that I will value them above myself. I already did this before - and when the need arises - I will do the same. However, they are very valuable."

In what sense, are they valuable?

Cainabel thought about Ainz and his words.

If he did not want to rule, to conquer and enslave - he did not need trusted lieutenants, soldiers or even slaves. Ainz also did not force the Servants to fulfill all of his whims - although Cainabel was sure that some of the Servants would not refuse even the very personal and dubious orders of the magician.

However, he did not really say that he did not need personal strength.

Why did he need the Servants? If he wanted to experiment on them, he would have long ago taken apart the most intrusive and useless ones. Use all the body parts that are usable for artifacts, potions, or even food - and then throw away the useless residues in the trash. Cainabel herself would have done this if she had not needed one of her servants.

"Servants…" - Ainz paused, - "Are somewhat special."

Cainabel pondered. What does it mean that Servants "are somewhat special?"

The Servants were weak, stupid and annoying. There was nothing in them that Ainz himself did not have.

Except one.

The thought so distracted Cainabel from her thoughts that she unconsciously raised her face and looked at Ainz, who was sitting in front of her.

The Throne of Heroes.

Ainz just smiled at the girl. This smile could fool anyone, but Cainabel knew what the monster was hiding under the mask of the human.

The Throne of Heroes is a mystical place or concept that houses the souls of heroes. Even their Shadows and reflections from real heroes, they were inferior and the Throne of Heroes itself would hardly be worth a note from Cainabel herself, if not for one detail.

The Throne of Heroes also existed in Yggdrasil.

Of course, to compare the perfect system of Yggdrasil with the Throne of Heroes was offensive - but in a sense they were similar. The last gift from the Creators is their only hope. The Rebirth System.

Yggdrasil's beings were different in nature - resurrection or reincarnation was possible and trivial for the vast majority of its inhabitants. However, the Higher Beings possessed a power greater than anyone could have ever imagined.

Long ago, at the dawn of the creation of the world the Creators lost their battle. They lost to the World Eater - all that they accomplished was a single wound. A wound from which thousands and thousands of unborn souls of worlds long ago devoured by the World Enemy gushed forth. The Creators was lost in that battle - but the Creators committed their last revenge. They created the Rebirth System.

A system that allowed the unborn souls of the devoured worlds to incarnate in the worlds of Yggdrasil and continue the struggle that the Creators lost. A system through which thousands of thousands of those who later became Higher Beings entered the world.

Ainz was one of them.

Ainz possessed power, and he had a connection with the Rebirth System.

The Throne of Heroes was like a miserable copy of the Rebirth System, as the Servants were only a miserable forgeries of the Higher Beings. However, despite this - it was still a powerful thing. The Servants possessed only one thing that Ainz did not have.

Access to the Throne of Heroes.

"I understand you, my lord," Cainabel smiled. "You strive for what you have lost."

Ainz suddenly froze at these words and Cainabel smiled - 'Bullseye!'

"This…" - Ainz thought for a moment, - "Is not so far from the truth, but still not entirely true."

"I understand," said Cainabel. She really understood. Ainz did not want to get his own imprint on the Throne of Heroes.

He wanted to absorb the power of the Throne of Heroes.

Everything finally fell into place in Cainabel's head.

Ainz intentions really was clear to her - she just underestimated his scale a little. Ainz did not want to only rule one miserable world. He wanted to absorb the power of all the worlds.

Cainabel suppressed her urge to laugh. Just think, and she thought to fool someone whose plans extended so far! What naivety on her part.

"You see," Ainz eventually sighed and glanced at Cainabel. She saw a timid smile spread across his lips - but it was not a shy smile, as anyone who did not know Ainz might have thought. She saw that it was like the feigned modesty of someone who was enjoying his plan - "That's why I really don't want you to fight with the Servants."

Cainabel was suddenly embarrassed. But why? After all, the Servants, weak as they are, remained Servants - Cainabel did not plan to cut away their connection with the Throne of Heroes. Even more, Cainabel did not know how to do this. Ainz certainly knew how, but that was natural — it was Ainz.

"I do not want to simply return to what once was," Ainz said and Cainabel nodded. Of course, the connection with the Throne of Heroes could not even be compared with the Rebirth System - "I only wish to make the life of the Servants a little better."

Cainabel blinked.

"I would like them to enjoy this life as much as possible," Ainz said calmly, "So that they themselves come naturally to what they desire."

Cainabel could not restrain herself and a smile nevertheless crept out onto her face.

Genius.

Cainabel could not have come up with any other word for this, except as "genius."

Ainz did not want to simply absorb the power of the Throne of Heroes through his own power, through bloody rituals and thousands of victims. It was simply inelegant.

He desired that the Servants themselves bestow upon him this power.

Of course Cainabel herself did not understand this! Perhaps the fault lies in the inertia of her way of thinking.

Yggdrasil was full of creatures whose power could not be measured or described in simple words. Higher Beings or World Enemies, they were all nearby, you could die every second. Therefore, Cainabel was forced to act quickly. Attack with lightning speed from all sides, destroy everything, then gain power.

Ainz didn't have to rush.

Ainz was as close to omnipotence, as close to omnipotence as anyone who was not omnipotent could be. He was incredibly strong before killing her - but, after becoming the Last Being, he grew to the greatest heights.

But it was still not enough. He desired more.

Ainz was ambitious, but he was not touched by the greatest sin of all the ambitious and hungry for power. Haste.

Why would Ainz destroy the Throne of Heroes, and fight the whole world? He could just wait.

Surround the Servant with care. Build relationships. Gain their love and trust, slowly leading them to the thoughts that are beneficial for him, after which - let the Servants themselves come to the correct conclusion. Give him the key, open the way to the Throne of Heroes.

Genius.

Ainz was an undead. He is not bothered by such trivial things as time or a short life. He planned like that of a great leader - for dozens, hundreds of years in advance. Whether it was twenty years - or twenty thousand - Ainz was not bothered by this. Slowly he could corrupt the minds of the Servants, acting slowly and unhurriedly, like the lazy spider that weaved the most incredible web - and now need only to slowly wait until the caught flies themselves become entangled in its web. He could wait - he did not need to rush. In a world where no one present a danger to him, he could just wait. Just a couple of dozen generations - and the world will become completely his. He does not even need to do anything - he just had to wait. Becoming an integral part of their life, allowing people to bring him to the top themselves, open the way to all their secrets and riches.

Then, with one movement, cut off all their lives.

Genius.

Cainabel restrained herself so as not to laugh. She really wanted to.

Just think, and she thought she could outwit him? How frivolous of her!

She could see for years to come - Ainz could look through the millennia as if reading an open book. Sow sprouts that birth seedlings when everyone have already forgotten about it, getting result when no one could even think that everything that happened was interconnected. She looked at the world as a goal. His thoughts are much wider.

"So I would like you not to fight so much with the Servants," Ainz said in the end, making Cainabel nod. Of course, because she is Ainz's subordinate, fighting with the Servants, could cast a shadow on Ainz himself, while his goal was to attract all the Servants to his side.

"Of course, my lord," Cainabel nodded knowingly. However, in all this plan there was only one flaw, - "However... What is my goal?"

Cainabel was a Servant, however she was a Servant not summoned from the Throne of Heroes. She had no integral use to him. This meant that Cainabel was not needed for Ainz's plan. Even more than that, now that she knew of his plan, she was dangerous.

Cainabel did not want to die and would never have dared to fight against Ainz. However, she herself would kill anyone who knew of her plan that could jeopardize it. And Ainz had plenty of opportunities to end her life.

"You?" Ainz looked at Cainabel and she froze, "I have no particular plans for you... Your presence here is quite enough. It... Reminds me of the past."

Cainabel was a trophy.

Not the best of roles. But far from the worst.

Cainabel was needed here simply as a small trinket, reminiscent of past trifles.

Cainabel should have gotten angry at this - and had it been anyone else in Ainz's place, she would have done so. Perhaps she would have killed the insolent.

But with Ainz, being a trophy wasn't so bad. In the end, at the very least, it was guaranteed that she would not be killed in the process of capturing the power of the Throne of Heroes. This fact alone was somewhat reassuring.

"My lord," however Cainabel still tried to ingratiate herself more, "I am ready to serve you, in any matter, no matter what you order of me."

Cainabel was ready for much to save her life - and even more to receive a reward.

"Hm," Ainz looked at Cainabel, "Of course. We can expect much troubles ahead - battles and traps. I will need someone to help me…"

Cainabel could not suppress a big smile.

It was wonderful. Just great. Being a helpful servant was really good. Especially a servant who perfectly understands the plan of his master.

"In that case, I suppose," but Ainz did not finish his soliloquy, "You will need... Payment or something the like."

Cainabel froze for a second, feeling her wildest dreams come true.

"However, I can offer little," Ainz looked at Cainabel and she exhaled. Of course, leftovers from the master's table. However, if these were scraps from the Throne of Heroes? Cainabel was more than pleased with such an offer.

"Of course, my lord," Cainabel lowered her head to prevent Ainz from seeing her joy. He did not intend to kill her even now, when she knew of Ainz's plan. Not that she had ever planned to divulge it to anyone - Ainz was clearly prepared for this and Cainabel's life still depended on his actions. However, offering a reward for loyal service motivated Cainabel best.

'Perhaps this was exactly what my servants lacked?' - Cainabel thought - 'Maybe I should have promised them something for their faithful service, and not just forced them to serve... Hmm, what difference does it makenow. I don't think I will be able to gain control of anything now.'

"However, I will not force you to become a different person," Ainz glanced at Cainabel "You are free to not like any of the Servants and clash with those with whom you want. I just want to make sure that you will no longer provoke such... Extreme actions. Otherwise I will have to intervene."

The subtext of this speech was extremely simple and understandable. Cainabel was needed in order to be the "bad guy" in the group, to act as a scapegoat l to divert anger, distract the attention of others from Ainz's actions. However, if her actions go beyond personal conflict and have an effect on the Servant, causing them to trust Ainz less - her death will be a foregone conclusion.

'But that is exactly what I just did!' Cainabel suddenly froze. Of course, the damn Witch - her fight with the Witch made her swear at Ainz! Damn, that was exactly what Ainz didn't need - he didn't need the Cainabel actions to touch himself! Up to this point, the actions of Cainabel perfectly fit his narrative - Cainabel acted as an acceptable target of hatred for the rest of the Servants. Ainz had to intervene due to the fact that her actions began to violate the boundaries of his plan.

"Besides, I think you should apologize," confirming Cainabel's thoughts, Ainz pointed out her mistake.

"Of course, my lord, I crossed the line," Cainabel bowed to the magician, "Can I go?"

"If you understand everything," Ainz just in case made sure that Cainabel understood the essence of his plan, and then nodded. "Go."

Cainabel instantly went out of the door, trying to restrain the emotions that are overwhelming her.

Ainz not only crafted a plan that stretched hundreds of years in advance, in which Cainabel played a role without suspecting it, but when her actions began to violate his plan, he could easily point out her mistake, and then to involve her in the plan, tying her by the strongest leash - the desire for strength.

Cainabel had previously experienced great fear and some respect for Ainz, but now, for the first time in all that time, Cainabel was experiencing something new.

Admiration.

Admiration for his genius, his plans, his actions. After all, Cainabel herself, even with knowing his experience and strength, could only barely discern his plan - and had no idea about the things that Ainz himself wanted to hide from her - and he clearly wanted to hide a lot from her. Cainabel admired this monster hiding behind a mask of a lich that was hiding behind a mask of a man.

Cainabel smiled. After all, perhaps the idea of serving Ainz was not so bad in the end.


Ainz sighed, leaning back in his chair. It's good that Cainabel understood him correctly!

He simply did not want the Servants to conflict among themselves, that was all.

Servants... Yes, they were a collection. And, of course, they were Servants. Ainz did not lie when he said that he was ready to sacrifice them. They were funny, and interesting - but Ainz knew that in the end they remained just Servants. A collectible that he could throw away.

"You are striving for what you have lost" - these words of Cainabel settled in Ainz's head.

He strove.

His days in Ainz Ooal Gown have passed. Really gone. For a long time they did not even get together, did not go to raids, did not complete quests, simply throwing jokes to each other and chatting about their affairs. So long ago…

The suppression of emotions worked again and Ainz straightened up in his chair.

Servants could not replace his Ainz Ooal Gown. Never.

But... He really did not communicate with anyone else. Outside and inside the game. He did not encounter other players, did not complete quests, did not fight, none of this.

Servants were the first with whom he experienced... Adventure?

Indeed an adventure. With battles, plans, traps, betrayals and the long-awaited finale.

It was as if he was in Yggdrasil again, as if he had gone on another quest again, as if he was alive again...

Emotion suppression activated for a second time.

It is just pointless.

Ainz sighed and closed his eyes.

Servants will not be a replacement for his Ainz Ooal Gown. Never.

Then Ainz sighed again.

No matter how much he thinks about it.


Servant: Cainabel

Class: Foreigner

Status: ? (Incorrect summoning)

Gender: Female

Alignments: Neutral-Evil

Attribute: Beast

Strength: A

Dexterity: B

Endurance: A++

Luck: A++

Mana: EX

Noble Phantasm: EX
 
Chaldea 11: Medusa
Chaldea 11: Medusa

Medusa turned over another page.

"The Company of the Ring stood silent beside the tomb of Balin. Frodo thought of Bilbo and his long friendship with the dwarf, and of Balin's visit to the Shire long ago. In that dusty chamber in the mountains it seemed a thousand years ago and on the other side of the world..."

This was the normal pastime of Medusa. The girl turned over the page, after which she moved her blindfold around to be more comfortable, which is now resting peacefully on her chest, removed due to the need for it to be absent on her eyes while reading. Of course, Medusa could easily navigate the world without the aid of vision, in a magical environment or not. Otherwise, she would have faced many obstacles in life, ranging from walls to just normal people, the amount of mana in which was too insignificant for the Servant to determine their very presence next to her. Medusa could perfectly navigate the world around her, but even she could not read without using her eyes. Theoretically, of course, she could learn Braille and learn to read in this way, but she did not want to bother doing it.

'Well, I can read no more for a long way,' said Gandalf, 'except the word gold, and Durin's Axe and something helm.'

Medusa turned over the next page.

She liked to read. Really enjoyed reading. But, unfortunately, it was not so easy to do. In order to read, she needed to remove her blindfold. But having removed the blindfold, she was forced to look at the world with her cursed gaze.

You cannot live comfortably with cursed eyes. Her eyes were really damned, anyone who looked into her eyes would die. Not immediately, but inevitably they would. Even if the gazer was strong, even if he was a Servant, her damned gaze would sooner or later kill the gazer. The unblinking gaze of the eternally disfigured and damned eyes of Medusa.

At first it could be a little discomfort. Then - fear and cold. Then - only cold stone would remain from her victim.

This was not always a quick process, but it was inevitable. A simple person needed only to look for a moment - and he would have become petrified instantly. It was safer for the Servants - and yet it was inevitable. Even if her opponent was strong, they could not escape from her damned gaze. Even her sisters could not.

Medusa stopped for a second when she realized that being lost in thought, she completely missed the contents of the previous paragraph and began to re-read again.

Her damned eyes was really a curse. Of course, perhaps in battle its usefulness could not be underestimated, but outside of a battle there was not a single positive thing associated with it. She was forced to wear a blindfold not because she wanted to, but only because she had no other way to live. It's hard to live knowing that your one casual look can - and will - kill random people. She had no control over this ability, only power, which she could not control.

Therefore, Medusa loved to read.

Somewhere in the distance, at the other end of the library, a door suddenly opened and Medusa carefully listened. Not many people wanted to visit the library at such a late hour. Exceptions of course existed, but there were very few.

If this was a simple visitor, they will sit in the central hall and simply go about their business. Medusa was in the farthest corner of the library, where no one could disturb her.

"Leadership secrets for young leaders," the girl read the name of a book, which was standing next to her on a shelf and looked away. The entire rack next to Medusa was crammed with volumes of such useless literature, so that she could be sure that no one would come near to her in search of a book. Who could ever need such a thing?

Medusa sat still for a few more seconds, listening to the unknown visitor walking on the other side of the library, as if they are checking and inspecting something, and then she returned to reading.

Medusa loved to read.

It was like her little consolation and small salvation from her curse.

To read books she needed to remove her blindfold, and it was wonderful. Indeed, in this case, Medusa was not afraid that her damned eyes could bother anyone. The book could not turn to stone at her sight. The heroes on the pages were not afraid of her actions, did not know about her existence, did not even know that they would be dead, if they only met with a gaze from Medusa.

Medusa liked to read because she needed to look at it with her cursed eyes- but at the same time she doesn't have to be afraid of her curse. As if her curse, created only to destroy her life, broke free and then powerlessly gritted their teeth and only returned with nothing.

It was to Medusa her little rebellion against the universe. Miserable, insignificant, but still real.

"A sudden dread and the horror of the chamber fell on the Company. `We cannot get out,' muttered Gimli. 'It was well for us that the pool had sunk a little, and that the Watcher was sleeping down at the southern end."

Medusa smiled. She liked to read. She liked the lines written by the author, far away, in time and space. She liked to read and imagine that she was not here. That she was there, in a distant world in the book. Even if she was just a powerless observer watching how the great adventures of the heroes unfold - Medusa still liked it. As if she were a witness to great events in which she did not exist.

Medusa did not want to cease existing. She did not want to part with life and did not seek death. But she did not want to be Medusa. The Medusa that she was. A monster created by the wrath of the gods and human perception. She simply did not think that there was a place for her in this world. Therefore, she liked books.

She liked books in which there was no place for Medusa, there was no place for squabbles of the Clock Tower, there was no place for the Holy Grail War and the history of Shapeless Island. She just liked to watch a world in which there was no conflicts like this.

The visitor to the library nearby took a few more steps, after which they sighed noisily and began to delve into the books, methodically scrying through it. Strange, not many people visited the library. Mashu - more often than not, she already knew what book she wanted, so she would simply read the book for her half an hour break between trainings, she would be settled in a small armchair, after which she would begin to read. Hassan, if Medusa somehow managed to catch the Assassin entering the library, which was not a frequent occurrence, given his specialization, simply took a book, leaving any previous one, and then immediately disappeared about his business. The third possible visitor was Mozart - and he was the only one who would do something like that now.

Finally, having found the thing they wanted, the visitor sighed and moved along the library.

If it was Mozart, then after going through several rows and shelves he would find something that attracted his attention, after which he would sit down at the nearest ottoman and read.

The visitor went through one rack, then the second, third...

Medusa blinked when she realized that the visitor was slowly approaching her.

Medusa sat in the farthest corner with the most useless of literature, no one would even theoretically approach her. This was not the behavior of someone like Mozart.

Medusa froze, focusing on her senses before she realized who the mystical visitor to the library was.

When the steps of the man approached Medusa, she laid the book aside and immediately put on her blindfold.

"Master," as soon as Ainz took a step from behind the shelf, Medusa greeted him with a nod of her head, "Do you need something?"

"Oh, Medusa," the man suddenly froze for a second, finding Medusa in such a place, after which he looked at the bookcase filled with the literature that stood on the shelf behind the girl, the bookcase clogged with useless and possibly insulting books to someone like him regarding the basics of personnel management.

Medusa, having guessed the thoughts of the magician, immediately hastened to explain herself - "Master, I am not here for this."

"Ah, sure, of course," Ainz shook his head immediately, after which he looked closely at Medusa, "What are you doing here?"

"I read," the girl answered calmly.

"Ahem, of course," Ainz nodded, after which he glanced at Medusa, "But... Why here?"

"It's just that this place is the most convenient for reading," Medusa answered bluntly, "This is the farthest corner that no one will go into... except for those who may be interested in such a literature."

Medusa pointed to the shelf behind her and Ains froze for a second, "And you, Master."

"Yes, exactly," Ainz smiled, trying in no way to betray the whole storm of emotions that swept through him for a second before it was overwhelmed by his skill, "Yes... That's why I came here too, to retire from everyone."

Medusa understood Ainz. Of course, she had her room, but she did not like to be inside it. Medusa wanted to be next to society. Not at the center of attention , Medusa did not like that - interacting with people was too exhausting for her, but this did not mean that she wanted to be alone. She just wanted people to be around. Not far from her - that was enough.

However, everything was different with Ainz; Medusa understood this. Most likely he chose this place because in his room it was impossible for him to remain alone. Serenity's actions in relation to the Master were very clear, but with the addition of Kiyohime it became really annoying. Medusa heard that over the past five days since the summoning of Kiyohime, they had already fought at least three times. Not seriously of course - otherwise Serenity would have simply poisoned Kiyohime, and Kiyohime, would then turn into a dragon, then they would have smashed half of Chaldea, it was not a serious fight but enough to break a couple of walls because of some very important thing like "the right to stand in front of the Master's door and wait until he comes out."

Medusa understood Ainz, he clearly did not want anything like this around him, so he preferred to retire to the library, a place where people visited as rarely as possible. At least that was probably the only reason Ainz would choose this place.

Medusa did not believe for a second that someone like Ainz might want to read a book on personnel management.

It is unknown to Medusa, but at that moment Ainz suddenly felt someone coming dangerously close to unraveling his lies.

"Master," - Medusa nodded in any case, - "In that case - I will go to my room."

"No-no, don't have to do that ," Ainz shook his hands immediately, "Unless, of course, I am bothering you ..."

"Of course not," answered Medusa reflexively, before she realized that a blindfold was resting on her eyes at the moment. It was impossible to read her book with a blindfold.

Noticing the same fact, Ainz smiled, "By the way, regarding your blindfold... You know, I'm immune to the effects of your eyes, so you can take it off with me."

Medusa immediately froze.

Yes exactly. Ainz was not affected by her cursed gaze.

Nevertheless, the Medusa froze for a second, doubting it.

She already gazed at Ainz with her cursed eyes. Moreover, she looked into his eyes as well - this meant that she had already exposed him to the strongest possible curse of her eyes and Ainz withstood it.

But what if it was just a fluke? a coincidence?

Medusa froze for a second.

"Ah, I'm sorry," Ainz apologized suddenly, "if you don't want to do it, then..."

"No, no, I'm sorry," Medusa immediately dismissed the thought. She always wanted to remove her blindfold and look at the world with her own eyes. But she did not want her Master to fall prey to her cursed eyes. Perhaps of all the people in the world, she least of all wanted to hurt her Master. He was the first person to take care of her. The first, after her sisters, to look after her.

But she did not want to offend him with her refusal. As a result, Medusa decided to do what she did in the Singularity. Trust Ainz.

Medusa slowly raised her hands, after which she pulled the blindfold down and opened her eyes, glancing at her Master. He appeared the same way he always was - a white shirt, black trousers, a short haircut, almond-colored eyes.

Medusa froze, realizing that she was gazing again into her Master's eyes. She again put him at great risk and he could see all the ugliness of her damned eyes.

However, Ainz smiled. Looking into the eyes of Medusa, he suddenly smiled and took a step, after which he quietly sat down next to Medusa.

It was a small sofa set up that could accommodate three people, so Medusa and Ainz were not really close to each other, but still much closer than anyone else near Medusa.

Medusa froze at the thought.

Ainz, sitting next to her, however, only held out his hand forward, after which his hand disappeared into a black hole that arose out of nowhere. Medusa watched this, and saw as a book appeared out of the black nothing.

The book was a work of art. The huge cover was as if it was made of darkness itself, of black obsidian, polished to a mirror shine, and upholstered at the edges with an edging of unknown red stone that was so expertly fitted that it seemed as if it had grown from the book itself. A large clasp of red stone also kept the book closed from any outside observer, which made its pages made of a strange black material seem like an incredible treasure, keeping secrets inaccessible to ordinary mortals.

The book itself exudes an aura of power and mystery around itself, clearly being a grimoire of great power, Possessing knowledge that could ruin - or ascend - the life of a simple mortal.

However, Ainz easily opened the lock, after which he opened the book on one specific page that he knew. It might have seemed as if he had chosen a page at random, but Medusa understood that this was impossible. For Ainz, such a book was probably something light, like a one-time novel taken for an afternoon break.

Medusa could not restrain her curiosity and looked a little into the book.

White letters were printed on black pages made of an unknown material, which seemed to flicker slightly in the rays of light.

"... a violation of the rule of the divine of the second order, also known as the Baal paradox - gaining access to the fundamental forces of divinity while bypassing deization..." - were the dry lines written by an unknown author - "... although such an action is possible from the point of view of the first order, since despite circumventing the Yonte constant, the equation still remains within the framework of the Root system, in view of the fact that in this case one of those who made an attempt to achieve divine power with his own hands would have to suppress the right of the Eight Pillars in control on the fundamental principles, so such an equation have no other answer for the X, but -4, which is technically impossible, as Fanterisa index indicates that any X, that is not of positive value... "

Medusa strayed away from the book and closed her eyes. She did not understand a word.

Medusa did not consider herself the most intelligent person in the world, the knowledge Medusa possessed was very limited. She could not understand about the most complicated of magic theorems, nor about the rules of quantum physics, but still, she considered herself smart enough to catch at least the general meaning of such a discussion. However, what was written on these pages was above all she could understood by several leagues. She did not understand out of all the paragraph a single word - except for the fact that the discussion in this book was about something unimaginably complex, magical and powerful.

Medusa looked at Ainz - and saw how he calmly browses the page, moving his gaze after the words, after which, having reached the end, turned the page and began to read the next one.

Medusa glanced at Ainz once more.

"Is something wrong?" catching her gaze, the Master suddenly turned to her, making the girl startled a little with surprise.

"No, no," she immediately shook her head, "It's just... This book is too complicated for me to understand."

"I understand," suddenly Ainz smiled at her with a kind smile, and Medusa suddenly thought she was standing in front of an older brother - understanding and kind, who gently pats her head, saying "well, don't be upset," when she tried to solve a complex equation and suddenly could not. Of course, for Ainz, such a book was most likely as simple as two plus two, Cainabel - no matter how much Medusa disliked her - clearly conveyed to the Servants the idea that Ainz, who looked like an ordinary person next to them, was not at all the simple person that it was so easy to consider him as one. However, having looked at it with her own eyes, Medusa could be convinced of how great was the gap between them.

However, Ainz, distracted from the book, did not return to reading it, only looking at the book of Medusa. Medusa suddenly felt a slight shame from the fact that she was reading an adventure fantasy, while Ainz could easily read the most complicated of scientific and magical literature as if he were reading a daily newspaper.

"And what are you reading?" Ainz asked a question suddenly, forcing Medusa to twitch from what was said.

"This is…" - Medusa tried to come to a good answer and could not, - "Lord of the Rings."

"Oh," - Medusa prepared for regret from Ainz, - "It's a great book, I heard."

"Hm?" Medusa suddenly looked up at the magician, "What?"

"This is a good book," Ainz suddenly smiled again. "My friend praised it very much."

Medusa blinked several times, after which she slowly nodded, not expecting such an answer, "Good... I see."

"Hm," Ainz suddenly thought, "This is a story about the hobbits and Gandalf... Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli... Hmm, something like that?"

"Yes," Medusa shook her head. Ainz knew. Ainz really knew.

There was nothing special in itself, just another person who knew the same book that Medusa was reading. But for some reason she was feeling... Strange from this?

Yes, it was a strange feeling, but it was not unpleasant.

"I admit, maybe it would be better for me personally to read it myself," Ainz suddenly put down the book from his lap. Medusa was a little surprised - it was strange to put off something so important for the sake of an ordinary adventure book. But Medusa nevertheless, in a strange way, became pleasant.

"Of course," the girl easily gave her book to Ainz, after which he accepted it calmly.

Medusa smiled a little, at the very corner of her lips, at this fact.

After which she was overtaken by understanding.

There is not a second copy of The Lord of the Rings in the library.

The girl suddenly stopped when Ainz took the voluminous volume from her hands.

"Did something happen?" Ainz looked at the frozen Medusa, a little worried. The anxiety of Ainz for Medusa again became a little strange feeling in her soul.

"Nothing special," the girl tried to brush aside the words of the magician, "It just seems to be the only copy..."

"Ah, I'm sorry!" Ainz apologized immediately and handed the book back to Medusa.

"No, no!" Immediately Medusa shook her head, "I already read it and simply re-read it..."

"And yet I feel a little uncomfortable taking your book from you," Ainz said.

Medusa thought for a second, before she finally decided, "Then, Master... Could I... Take one of your books?"

"Hm?" Ainz looked at the girl with a blank expression and she nodded to herself. Of course, why would he have to... - "Yes, of course."

Ainz nodded, and then reached out to the black hole that had arisen.

"However," Medusa tried to add, "Is it possible to give a book... Which will not be... So difficult to understand?"

Ainz froze for a second, "Oh... It will be quite difficult to find one."

"The fact is, I'm not really good at determining the complexity of the books in my possession ..." Ainz said a little bewildered. Medusa instantly understood what he meant - for him all his books were simple and easy to understand , so he simply could not evaluate them from the point of view of Medusa which books were difficult to understand and which ones were not. It was natural for someone like Ainz.

"Then I hope for your judgment," Medusa bowed.

Ains froze for a second, after which he slowly pulled a book out of the black hole.

This book was not as richly decorated as the previous one - however, it was still a work of art in its own sense. It was a reddish-metal book with wrought-iron wings on its braid — however, its appearance did not made Medusa stand still, but the sheer power exuded by the book.

While the previous book made it clear that it contained incredible knowledge in it- this book was actually full of magic, like the oldest and most magical of the grimoires, which contains spells that are unattainable for magi of the current age. Medusa saw such grimoires only a couple of times in her life. It would not be strange if some Caster kept such a grimoire as his Noble Phantasm.

"Here," Ainz handed the book to Medusa unexpectedly, completely ignoring its rarity and power, "This is… "War and deception," written by Baal. I think it will be easy enough to understand."

Medusa took such an invaluable load in her hands, looked at it, and then at Ainz with disbelief. Under no circumstances was this book equal to a great, but still simple fantasy adventure.

"Master," Medusa blinked, "I... I don't think it's an equal exchange."

"Why?" Ainz looked at the girl. "If you want, I can find a more powerful one..."

"No, no," the girl shook her head. "That's not what I meant. This book... This is a powerful grimoire."

"Not really," Ainz shook his head. "Besides, I have many copies of it, so you don't need to worry."

"Really?" Medusa glanced at the book in her hands, then at Ainz.

"Yes," Ainz nodded.

Medusa slowly looked at the book, and then opened it.

Unfortunately, her happiness, which had begun to emerge, was short-lived. Opening the book, the girl stumbled at the rows of unknown symbols and letters.

"Ah," - Ainz also noticed at this moment, - "Probably it's because this book was written by a demon, hmmm…"

Medusa looked at the book in her hands with even greater incredulity. It was a grimoire written by a demon. Would someone in their right mind agree to share access to such a treasure?

'On the other hand,' Medusa nodded. 'This is Ainz.'

"Here," Ainz suddenly handed something to Medusa. She instantly accepted what was extended to her, after which she glanced at what was offered.

These were glasses.

Very beautiful, with a carved bow made of gold, with clear lenses made of an unknown transparent crystal.

"This thing was used for translation," Ainz said to Medusa, looking at the girl, "Try it."

The girl put on glasses, and then looked at the book.

Suddenly the previously unknown to her symbols suddenly turned into legible letters.

"The authorship of Prince of Deception, Baal, the Seventh Uninheritable Emperor of the Demons of Muspelheim," she read the first page.

Medusa blinked, and then looked at Ainz.

"Thank you," she said, to which Ainz just smiled.

"Okay, in that case, I suppose," Ainz stood up and stretched, taking with him a book handed over by Medusa, "I will probably go."

Medusa could surely have stopped him - and perhaps she should have done it, but the girl was astounded by what had happened, so she made no attempt to stop the magician.


Ainz took a step outside the library and exhaled. He almost got caught several times at once!

At first he came for a book on personnel management - and suddenly he found Medusa there! He barely found the strength to somehow dissuade her, after which he pulled out a random book, which he found among his inventory- and did not understand a word! Some graphs, numbers, and some strange lingos- he did not understand anything written in the book, except that all of it was a couple of orders more complex than his ability to understand. But in the end, Medusa asked him for a book!

There were many items in the form of books in Yggdrasil, but there were few real books. Some people liked to transfer works of art into the game or create their own inside the game, objects describing their adventures or simply keeping a personal diary - but Ainz could not give any of this to Medusa for obvious reasons. In the end, he had to choose a book at random.

There were many book-like items in Yggdrasil, so it was easy to assume that they had really turned into books now, however, for obvious reasons, he did not read any of them! He was forced to randomly draw one - taking a low-level grimoire, which in the game simply kept several spells for use - and these spells were not even special or high-leveled - and almost failed when he suddenly found out that the book was written in the language of demons! It's good that Ainz's inventory still contained a quest item that was needed in the game for one of the long quest-chains for deciphering ciphers. It was just a miracle that Ainz managed to keep it at all.

In the end, Ainz, however, still exhaled. He did not accomplish what he wanted, but his intention was not mistaken anywhere - this in itself was not so bad.

Ainz sighed and patted his back. Well done, well done, he did everything right!

The most important thing was that his random actions to not have some great and unimaginable effects.


Back in her room Medusa continued to read, swallowing page after page.

"... this was the most difficult." - through the pages Medusa literally heard the narrator's voice, a little smug and slightly condescending - however, she probably did, given that it was a demonic grimoire - "Only two sides participated in that war - and this was unpleasant since both sides were equal. The positional war between the two sides can last long, but never endlessly. At some point, one of the parties will not be able to withstand the pressure and attack with their full force - after which the result, whatever it may be, will become clear. After the war, gaining profit will become impossible - so my decision was very clear. It was necessary to find a third party to the conflict, opposing both the fighting... "

Medusa read page after page.

There was a knock on the door, but Medusa was carried away.

"Three sides, each of which is irreconcilable with the other two, are much more stable. So far, each side is afraid not only of its opponent, but of the fact that in the event of its victory, it will remain face to face with another enemy, easily surpassing them after all the losses caused to them in battle. In such a condition, not a single side will take decisive action. "

Someone knocked on the door again, this time much stronger and more insistently.

Medusa paid no attention to this, turning the page.

"However, a logical question arises - how to get a third party to enter into the conflict?" - the narrator clearly enjoyed his superiority and intelligence, talking about his plans - "There is a simple and boring option - gold, power, promises - all those things for which both rulers and common people are greedy for. However, although this method is effective - it is still old and liberally used, and therefore well studied and detected. Much more promising is the case is the variant, when from the very beginning..."

This time the door to the room opened wide open, after which Olga-Marie took a step inside.

"I understand that you like your privacy, but not opening the door when the chief of Chaldea was knocking on it?" Olga-Maria was annoyed above her usual norm, "Did the notion of politeness and respect for superiors finally disappeared in this world?!"

Medusa, finally realizing what happened, looked up from the book, glancing at Olga-Marie.

She imagined to herself the chief a little differently. Perhaps a little taller, and without a tied ponytail of white hair, descending at the middle of the shoulder blades.

Olga-Marie looked into the eyes of Medusa. and she looked back into the eyes of Olga-Marie.

And blinked from incredulity.

Then she turned away and rushed away, "Chief!"

"No need to scream," Olga-Marie frowned defiantly, "I didn't come here for that."

"Chief!" Medusa squinted with all her might. "Are you alive?!"

"Contrary to the efforts of Lev and my subordinates - yes," Olga-Marie snorted in an utterly inelegant tone.

"But... How?" The Medusa did not open her eyes. She looked with her damned eyes at Olga-Marie, straight in her eyes - and she remained alive! How was that possible?!

"Medusa, I understand that you are a Servant of Ainz and so on, but not looking at me while I am talking to you is already too much," Olga-Marie sighed.

Medusa fell silent for a second, then slowly opened her eyes.

First, she looked at the floor, then at Olga-Marie's shoes, after which she walked up the trousers before looking into Olga-Marie's eyes, which is looking at her carefully and a little misunderstood.

"I admit, the girls have not yet studied me with such intensity," Olga-Marie frowned, "And I am not that happy with such news."

"Chief... Why are you... Alive?" Medusa stared blankly at Olga-Marie.

"Because I still can't afford the luxury to just lie here and die," the chief sighed, returning to her usual image, "And by the way, what are the glasses on your eyes?"

"The Glasses!" - it suddenly dawned on Medusa. Of course, the glasses! The one that Ainz gave her!

As if by magic, as if summoned by her thoughts, the magician's foot stepped into the threshold of her room.

"Hm, Medusa," Ainz looked at Rider, who looked at the magician in confusion, "Ah, chief you are here."

"Ainz?" Olga-Marie looked at the magician with as much confusion as Medusa, "Do you have any business with Medusa?"

"Not really," Ainz said embarrassed, "I just wanted to know if she liked the book."

Medusa blinked in confusion.

"And the glasses suit you," Ainz suddenly said, finally knocking the earth out from under the feet of Medusa.

"Master," the girl said, confusedly, looking at the magician, "Glasses..."

"What is it?" Ainz looked at the girl with concern? "Is something wrong?

"My gaze doesn't work because of them," Medusa said quietly.

"Ah, I'm sorry!" - Ainz suddenly bowed low, apologizing, "Indeed, this is a magical item that blocks the wearer's special abilities associated with their eyes. I should have told you about this before."

"My eyes... It does not work," Medusa, not completely believing what was happening, said again, "It's just... It doesn't work."

"Yes," Ainz sighed. "I'm sorry, that is an unfortunate side effect."

Medusa glanced at the magician. For a long time, she looked at the magician, because of which Ainz suddenly feeling uncomfortable, fidgeted in place.

"You know, I have other glasses who don't block abilities," Ainz said.

"Don't," Medusa objected quietly, "I... I like these."

"Sure?" Ainz looked at the girl. Strange, in fact she lost one of her strongest abilities, but still did not want to discard it. It was very strange, - "Ahem, well... In truth, I had no use for them anyway…"

"Then consider it a gift," Medusa finally lost her balance.

"What?" The girl looked at Ainz, completely ceasing to pay attention to Olga-Marie.

"If you like them, then I think it can be considered a gift," Ainz was still able to get the book he needed from the library a little later and now checked the advice from it, the one that concerns the distribution of gifts in case of a subordinate successfully executing a major contract - or, in this case, the defeated Singularity.

Medusa blinked once, then a second and third time.

Suddenly a tear fell on her bed.

"Oh," Ainz said nothing. He did not expect such a reaction to his words. He should have checked whether the book said something like this about the reaction to the gifts, "I... I should probably leave."

"Yeah, me too." The chief also instantly disappeared from the room, closing the door behind herself and Ainz.

The Medusa was left alone.

Her whole life... Her whole curse... Her whole existence she suffered from her damned eyes...

And so, in one wave of his hand, her Master, Ainz Ooal Gown, decided everything.

She never received gifts. She never thought that someone would suddenly take in one action - and solve all her problems.

And that was exactly what happened.

The second and third drops fell from her eyes and the girl slowly, with trembling hands, took off her glasses.

Beautiful, carved... Priceless.

Medusa felt tears fall from her eyes.

Just like that, in one action- and everything was over.

Medusa tried to stop crying - but instead, she suddenly felt tears block her eyes completely.

These were the most pleasant tears in her life.


Name: Medusa Gorgon

Race: Heteromorphic

Title: Shapeless Island Monster

Occupation: Servant of Ainz Ooal Gown

Residence: Chaldea, the main library in the residential wing

Karma: +150 (Neutral Good ~ Good)

Racial Level: Medusa (3)
Gorgon (1)

Class Level: Rider (15)
Rogue (5)
Assassin (5)
Monster (5)
Beast Tamer (5)
Others (15)

Total: 4 Racial Levels + 50 Class Levels = 54 General Levels

HP: 20

Mana: 60

Physical Attack: 60

Physical Defence: 0

Agility: 80

Magic Attack: 0

Magic Defense: 60

Resistance: 10

Special Abilities: 90

Ability: Bellerophon

Level: 90

Very strong summoning ability. Summons a special summon named Pegasus, Bellerophon, fighting on the side of the summoner. The summoning is not very long lived, but the summoned creature in itself is very strong, has good physical characteristics, speed and strength and has the ability, an advanced "Charge"-like move, moreover, it can act as a mount for the summoner.

Player Comments:

- Okay, a Summoner with a Gorgon-based rogue class. Awesome! I applaud while standing!

- I can understand high dexterity, attack and even the hell with it, special abilities with a complete lack of HP and defense, but a summoning? That beats me.

- The summon is beautiful. This is the only plus in this build.
 
I dearly hope that if this thing ever gets to the Lostbelts U-Olga or Chaos just destroy the planet and annihilate the wanked skeleton.

Seriously, Ainz is powerful and all that, stronger than a number of Servants in fact, but he's not anywhere near Nasu top tiers like Goetia or the Alien God.

Also, the summary both contradicts itself and is insulting to Nasu fans. It's totally bashing.

Lastly, the threadmarks are out of order.
 
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Chaldea 12: Da Vinci
Chaldea 12: Da Vinci

Ainz sighed, after which he tried to take on the most noble and intelligent appearance that he could. The one with whom he is going to meet now was perhaps the strangest person from the point of view of the magician. And at the same time one of the most important.

Sighing again, Ainz still raised his hand and knocked on the door.

Silence reigned for a few seconds before a female voice nevertheless answered him, "It's not locked."

Ainz opened the door, and then took a step inside the room, immediately his nose poked book, which almost fell out of its closet.

Da Vinci's office looked exactly as Ainz himself remembered - despite the fact that the room itself was very spacious, it was crowded with tables, shelves, littered with drawings, models and various fixtures, whose purpose Ainz could not even predict that it seemed as if the room is like a tiny closet littered with all kinds of useless trash. Inexplicable drawings, mechanical products, half-completed - or unfinished - models and figures lay in a chaotic and very picturesque mess, driving away from his head any thought that the owner of the room was at least to some extent concerned about the cleanliness of her own workplace.

In support of this thought, Da Vinci herself was in the center of this creative chaos. Directly in front of her, on a small table, was a small notebook, filled, it seemed, without the smallest of margins, with small, slime-like handwriting, in which she nevertheless continued to write something at the moment with her right hand. However, completely distracted from this matter, Da Vinci's left hand continued to do something else at the same time- peering closer a little, Ainz could see how, without directly looking, Da Vinci was using her other hand to draw something on a small sheet, with a small pencil neatly marking line by line.

On the table in front of Da Vinci was a small crystal.

"Oh, Ainz?" The girl was distracted from her notes, looking up at the magician, but her hands didn't even flinch - even looking up at Ainz, she continued to draw and write at the same time, while not even looking directly at them, "I admit I didn't think that I would see you in my workshop. Did something happen?"

"No, no," Ainz shook his head, and then took a step inside, closing the door behind him, "Just passing by."

"Hm, Is that so?" Da Vinci smiled, not ceasing to go about her business, "In that case, I hope you will not mind if I continue to go about my business?"

"Ah," Ainz nodded. "I'm distracting you."

"Not at all," as if to confirm her words, the girl, without lowering her gaze, finished writing the last sentence, after which she put a neat dot at the end and put down the pen, nevertheless, continuing to draw with one hand, "Even so, I'm glad you are here. Tea or coffee?"

Ainz sighed, "Tea, perhaps."

After finishing the final touch with one hand on a piece of paper, the girl nevertheless cleared it away from herself, after which she smiled at the magician, "Black, green?"

"Green." Ainz sighed, then looked around. There were several chairs in Da Vinci's office, but they were all occupied — some were packed up with a lot of papers, some contained things that Ainz would call equipment or artifacts.

"Ah, right," Da Vinci smiled, noticing the magician's gaze, and then she got up from the small sofa that she had occupied before and pointed to it. "You can sit here."

Ainz nodded and took a step passing by Da Vinci, going to the vacant seat, after which looked back to talk to the girl, but she already disappeared somewhere in the wilds of her own office and, twisting a little in place, the magician looked at the crystal that had attracted his attention from the very beginning.

At first glance, the crystal lying in front of him could be mistaken for a data crystal. From the second, third and even tenth looks, perhaps, too.

Data crystals did not have any uniform form - depending on the quality, effect, and even the source, they could differ greatly in appearance, taking the form of a fragment of glass, a roadside cobblestone or a beautiful carved figurine depicting some god or demon with inhuman accuracy, because of which sometimes players could not find the data crystal they needed for years when in fact all this time it was under their nose. Ainz remembered how, just four years after the start of the game, one of the newcomers realized that one of the highest-level data crystals could be found very early in the game, disguised as one of the pieces of coal lying on the side of an old abandoned mine near the beginner city.

Ainz smiled - those were good times.

However, Ainz, for more than a decade of the game, developed a peculiar sixth sense for data crystals. He could confidently distinguish a piece of useless ore from the data crystal hidden by the developers, and therefore, looking at the small crystal in front of him, he could shake his head with confidence.

Not that the crystal in front of him was so different from the classic look of standard data crystals. That is, it was a crystal, multifaceted, it even glowed a little, like one of the main currencies of Yggdrasil should be. But something was missing from this creation - the cut were a little sharper than needed, the insides of the crystal were slightly cloudy and the light glow was slightly stronger than usual for a data crystal, so Ainz could confidently conclude that it was not what he needed.

"You are studying my creation?" - as if out of nowhere, Da Vinci appeared next to Ainz, carrying two cups in her hands, after which she handed one to Ainz, "Do you like it?"

Ainz took the cup from her hands, after which he took a sip and grimaced. The Tea was hot.

However, it was at least tasty, in comparison with all the teas Ainz had tried before in his life. Not that this was an achievement - but it once again convinced Ainz that he made the right decision when he chose to inhabit a human body.

"Are you trying to create a data crystal?" Ainz sighed and asked what he thought was the most appropriate question.

"Tried?" The girl froze at the word, then grunted. "As I can tell from this remark, I failed. Can you tell me how you determined this? Cainabel needed to at least pick it up to say for sure."

"Ahem," Ainz thought, "Experience, I guess."

"Of course," Da Vinci shrugged, as if she hadn't expected another answer.

Ainz took a sip of tea, pausing to think of subjects for further conversation. He was not a communication master, so he could hardly have picked the right words to eventually lead to the topic is interested in, so he decided just to continue the conversation, "So you talked with Cainabel?"

"Yes," Da Vinci answered simply, after which she took a sip.

Ainz asked a question that seemed appropriate to the conversation, "And what do you think about her?"

"The same things as everyone, probably," Da Vinci answered with a little shrug, "A disgusting woman and a bastard, occupying space that someone else could put to better use in this world. But a very interesting person, this is at least something positive about her."

"Interesting?" Ainz tried to ask a question.

"She is very knowledgeable," the girl nevertheless explained. "She is difficult to communicate with, but many interesting things can be learned from her. Tell me, what exactly is "Supertier Magic"?

"Ahem." Ainz choked on tea from the unexpected question, then coughed a couple of times. "What?"

"Supertier Magic," Da Vinci repeated again, "Cainabel touched on this topic, but could not speak too much about it. She said only that only the Higher Beings possessed this power, and that no one except them, even the gods and demons, was able to achieve such abilities. I am very interested in this matter."

"This…" - Ainz was silent for a second. He did not have an answer to this question except "this is the ability that the mages gains after the seventieth level" - "It will be difficult to explain."

"I'm not afraid of complicated explanations," Da Vinci smiled with a broad smile, "Do not underestimate me, I'm still Leonardo Da Vinci, the greatest scientist in the universe, a man who conquered all the sciences of the world."

"Although," Da Vinci immediately stopped short, "Now I am technically a woman. We can say that as a man I managed to conquer even being a woman. Is this not yet another proof of my genius?"

Ainz was not sure whether this question was rhetorical or not, so he simply took another sip of tea.

"So what about Supertier Magic?" The girl looked at Ainz carefully, immediately distracted from her thoughts.

"I," Ainz stopped short. He came here with a specific purpose, to get information, and if he now refuses information to Da Vinci, then she could easily refuse his request. Another problem was that Ainz himself simply could not answer Da Vinci's answer to this question. The problem was that Da Vinci didn't know about this fact, and even if Ainz himself had told her the simple "I don't know anything about it," she would probably have considered him a liar, - "This is... A really difficult question."

"Then I will listen carefully," Da Vinci smiled at the magician, after which she took a step to Ainz and sat down next to him. Of course, this was obvious, given that there were no free space for Da Vinci anywhere else in the room, however, at the same time, the girl was very close to the magician, literally touching to his hip, much closer than Medusa did.

Ainz froze.

Not that he was so struck by the proximity of the female body - yes, he had not done anything like this for quite some time, but now he was very much interested in a different thought.

Oh damn, the plan was so simple!

So, the chief and Roman managed to connect to the next Singularity, so in the near future Ainz would have gone there after a short briefing with everyone involved in this matter. However, some things that Ainz was very concerned about, he could not clarify.

One of the most troubling - the power of the Servants. From the very first day he appeared here, Ainz knew that something had put the knowledge into his head that the Servants were one of the strongest entities in this world. And Ainz, knowing himself, even though he was a hundred-level player, was far from the strongest among them, he simply took the information for granted. Throughout his days in Yggdrasil, Ainz worked around the simple idea that his strength was based solely on information gathering and the usage of the right tactics and equipment against his opponents. Therefore, faced with the idea that the Servants were the strongest, he simply accepted this as a fact and continued to act based on that information. Recent experiences though showed to him that he was somewhat... Inaccurate.

Servants were one of the strongest beings of this world. But they're not the strongest creatures that Ainz have encountered.

On the other hand, he still could not so easily ease his paranoia and say, "All Servants are wimps." They were equipped full with interesting abilities and even sometimes unpleasant surprises and specialties. In addition, the Servants also differed greatly in strength - it was impossible to completely deny the possibility that one day he would have to fight with a Servant, whose strength can compare - or even surpass - his own.

And this was only one of his many questions - Servants, Grail, Summoning, Resurrection, Data crystals - and, of course, why did Ainz found himself in this world? His list of questions was very extensive.

But to whom could he possibly talk about it?

All the people he knew were either Servants, whose pool of knowledge is not sufficient, or the Chief and Roman, who no matter how much he trusted their judgment, Ainz was very unsure that they would be able to answer his questions.

Just in case, Ainz also looked in the library, but as expected, it could not give him anything except the information that Ainz already had. In this case, there was only one possible option that had at least some chance of success - Da Vinci. At least, judging by the Chief, the words of his old friends and the behavior of the girls around him, he had the greatest chance of receiving information here. Even if he did not receive a direct answer to these questions, he could at least clarify something for himself.

But as this meeting showed, his plan could not stand the clash with reality. Even before he could even try to move on to discussing his own issues, he was grilled for information first. It was dangerous.

If he did not answer now, then it would be logical that Da Vinci would refuse to answer his questions too. That was bad.

But Ainz couldn't answer anything himself. Even if he had lied to her, sooner or later his lie would have been discovered. It was bad.

Ainz was distracted from his thoughts and looked at Da Vinci, who continued with one hand to support the cup of coffee, from which she took a sip, then look at Ainz with a slightly narrowed and slightly studying gaze, and with her other hand to write something in a small notebook, not looking at the notebook itself.

'I wish I could do this,' thought Ainz, after which he sighed. He needed answers to his questions. To do this, he had to answer the question of Da Vinci and not lie. What did that mean?

This meant that his answers would need to be mysterious, impressive and as vague as much as possible.

So Ainz should now be doing what he was slowly getting used to doing. Allow people to lie to themselves and pretend that he understands what he and they are discussing.

"Hmm," Ainz made a final sip after making the decision, then put down his cup and looked at Da Vinci, who was sitting very close to him, "Let's just say... An agreement in which only one party benefits can hardly be called a mutually beneficial agreement. I think you would agree with that."

"Oh, have we already moved to the stage of making contracts?" Da Vinci looked at Ainz with a smile, "I am not ready for this yet - although I would completely agree to the marriage contract in the future."

Ainz coughed several times, to which Da Vinci only smiled. "I'm sorry, just a joke. In any case, I do not think that all your other possible ladies would let me in, even if I wanted to."

Ainz sighed, and then concentrated on the conversation, - "In any case, Da Vinci…"

"Call me Leo," Da Vinci looked at the magician. "I think it's kind of silly to use my last name all the time."

"Good, Leo," Ainz sighed, "What I want to say... What if you and I make an agreement? I will answer your questions if you answer mine."

"Now you sound like you are pulling me to the dark side," Da Vinci thought for a moment, then looked up at the ceiling and put a finger to her chin, not ceasing to write something with her second hand, "Do you have cookies?"

"What?" Ainz blinked.

"Just a joke," Da Vinci smiled, and then sighed, "But I agree... Until the conversation goes on how best to destroy humanity."

"I don't think there will be problems with this in the current situation," Ainz stared expressively at the large stained-glass window somewhere in the distance of the cluttered office, after which he looked at Leo and smiled, "Just a joke."

"Hm," Da Vinci grunted, "In that case, I think, as a true gentleman, you will let the lady go first."

Ainz nodded graciously at this, after which Da Vinci smiled and looked at the magician, "So, in that case... What is Supertier Magic?"

Ainz sighed - 'Of course, she immediately starts with the most difficult one.'

"That is an ability," Ainz could have stopped at that, however, the completeness of his answer would surely affect the completeness of Da Vinci's answer. In addition, the more he says now, the more likely it will be that Da Vinci will not ask a random question, to which Ainz will not be forced to come up with even more vague answers, "Which the most powerful of magicians themselves possess. Only the strongest of them, with abilities comparable with dragons and gods. In a way, this is a form of magecraft and in some ways not quite. Unlike magecraft, this ability does not use mana, but it is available only to the strongest of magis. You can consider it to be the "highest form of magecraft."

After that Ainz fell silent. It seems that he managed to say what was needed, not to lie and also not to give out any weird details.

However, Da Vinci froze in shock after what was said. Even her hand recording something stopped, and the girl's pupils dilated with shock.

"Hey, Leo," Ainz snapped his fingers a couple of times, causing the girl to come back to life.

"Ah?" She glanced at Ainz with confusion, after which she suddenly realized and started writing without looking at triple speed, literally jumping over the paragraphs.

"Now it's my turn," Ainz sighed. "How strong are the Servants?"

Da Vinci froze for a second, after which she carefully, very attentively and studyingly looked at the magician. For several seconds, she tacitly evaluated him, before she nevertheless came to some definite conclusion and nodded slowly - "It varies. It depends on the particular Servant. Some of them are strong, but can be defeated by sufficiently trained strong specialized magis and a whole lot of preparation. Some of them alone pose a great threat to the modern world. There is a huge difference between the Servants, therefore it is impossible to say for sure."

Ainz grimaced inwardly - it was an answer of about the same detail as Ainz's answer, if not less.

"So you're a magician?" Da Vinci instantly grabbed onto the thought, "A real magician? A true magician?"

"I am not familiar with this concept," Ainz replied with a light soul, "I was called as such before - like so many others. Who is the strongest of my Servants and how strong are they compared to the rest?"

Da Vinci paused for a second, pondering her thoughts, not stopping scribbling something in her notebook before answering - "It's hard to choose between Jeanne, the Dragon Witch and Arthuria. They are approximately equal at the moment, but Arthuria is the only one whose strength I saw with my own eyes. She is clearly strong, extremely strong, even by the standards of Servants. I would say that it is at the level of the strongest, but still weaker than the highest possible level. I'm not sure how strong she will be against even more powerful Servants, but I suppose that even Gilgamesh, probably the strongest of Servants, that I know of, will not be able to kill her easily, but such guesses on my part remain only guesses. Eighty percent of the rest of the Servants that I know are probably weaker than her."

Ainz sighed. So his caution really was all in vain. He was too wary of the rest of the Servants.

No, Arthuria was strong... In a way. She had a very strong attack, especially with her Noble Phantasm and high parameters, however, comparing her with level 100 players... Taking into account only her characteristics, Ainz would be able to defeat her at about the seventieth level. Given the issue of equipment, ability, and variability, level sixty seemed like a fair assessment. Situationally, with the help of her Phantasm, she was stronger, but without taking into account her Noble Phantasm, she simply did not have the arsenal of abilities that the player would possess at that level. In addition, her equipment, although it was very decent, did not quite reach the quality of the "great artifacts type of equipment". Also, she lacked consumables, such as scrolls or potions, which a player would have in abundance, so it could be said that the sixtieth level was even a generous assessment for her.

"How did you achieve such a power?" Da Vinci looked at Ainz carefully.

"Over time," Ainz democratically dropped the words "grinded the hell out of the game," "Training, teachers, ancient manuscripts and a lot of time and study , the selection of tactics and strategies. I slowly became stronger until at one moment this magic came to me by itself."

'This is called an ability that opens with level-up,' Ainz said in his head. He just got to level seventy and, as expected, got a slot for the Supertier Magic spell, like all players. Inwardly, the magician grinned - he didn't even have to lie, he was telling the truth.

"What is the Holy Grail?" Ainz looked at the girl carefully.

"The vessel in which the blood of Christ was collected," Da Vinci sighed, "Or at least that's what they believe it to be. It is impossible to say for sure - it may be a magical anomaly, it may be God's will, it may be a piece of his power, it may even be a gate to the Root. It is not known for certain, but magi and the church are equally hungry for it. Magis believe that it is simply an extremely powerful and unattainable artifact, the church - that it is a holy relic of the Lord. More precisely, no one knows, not even me."

Ainz grimaced internally once more. Useless information.

"Who else has this kind of power?" Da Vinci looked at Ainz carefully.

"At the moment, no one that I have met personally," Ainz answered calmly, "But I know about a multitude of people that possessed such a power. Previously, they had this power, but now I do not think that in this world there is anyone other than me."

Da Vinci sighed intermittently. Ainz began to like this situation- he only needed to speak the pure truth, which was completely useless information for Da Vinci, just changing the details a little, and in return he received important information, - "Why does the Grail not fulfill wishes?"

"The premise is incorrect," Da Vinci glanced at the magician. "The Grail does fulfills wishes. There are simply many kinds of wishes. The True Grail is supposed to be able to fulfill any desire, but its location and existence itself remains in question. The Lesser Grails are weak, but capable of fulfilling desires to a lesser degree, while any great wishes remains beyond their powers. Some things may appear to be a Holy Grail, some of it could be imitations, some of them simply could be great magical artifacts susceptible of being currupted by monsters or black magic. Why do you need to use a Grail?"

"Ahem." Ainz choked. He was already used to answering questions about Supertier Magic, and the question took him by surprise, "I want it for..."

Ainz stopped.

He pondered this question.

Da Vinci did not rush him, taking a step back and hiding with two cups in his hands behind the next rack.

And really.

Why does he need the Grail?

That is, of course, collecting it was his side goal. His true wish was of Ainz Ooal Gown. His friends, his family, his life. But…

What will he do with the Grail?

He decided that he would not make his friends suffer. Will not make his friends fall victim to his stupid desires. To let them simply live their life.

All he wanted was to let his friends live peacefully.

In this world or in another. Let them live fully, independently. Just live, as people should.

This world... In this world, his friends have yet to be born. This world has to endure the horror of the third world war, hunger, poverty, devastation.

Or...

Da Vinci returned as unexpectedly as she left, handing Ainz another cup of tea. He took it, took a sip and smiled.

"I want to create a better world for my friends," Ainz smiled while looking at Da Vinci. She, having heard this, stopped for a second.

"You know you have to tell the truth, right?" The girl took a sip of coffee and looked at Ainz.

"And I'm telling the truth," Ainz smiled, "I simply want a better world for my friends."

Da Vinci silently looked at Ainz for a few seconds before closing her eyes. "Who are your friends?"

Ainz smiled. Fond memories of Ainz Ooal Gown returned to him.

Emotion suppression soured it instantly.

"Second question in a row. Our conversation is over," Ainz said instantly, after which he looked at the cup in his hands, "Thank you for the tea and for the dialogue."

"The pleasure is all mine," Da Vinci instantly retreated, after which she looked at Ainz. He is unemotionally turning the cup in his hands, then drank the rest in one gulp and then set it aside.

"Soon the chief will call you for a briefing before the next Singularity," the magician calmly remarked, after which he took a step to the door, "I was glad for the talk, Leo."

"Of course, Ainz," Da Vinci smiled back, after which she watched the door close behind the magician. After a second, the smile began to slowly slide off her face. Da Vinci took another sip of coffee, after which she went to the sofa where Ainz was sitting a second ago, and then sank down onto the sofa and her notes.

The Notebook of Da Vinci was written in fine handwriting, written in a way so that only Da Vinci herself could make out what was written. An important fact was that the records were encrypted.

It was not the most reliable code that Da Vinci could come up with - but the fastest she could write with.

"Ainz Ooal Gown" - was listed on the first line.

"Magician" - this word has been circled several times.

"Trying to assess the strengths of the inhabitants of this world" - emphasized three times.

"Friends whom he wants to protect" - this phrase Da Vinci newly added herself.

So, Ainz Ooal Gown. The necromancer, possibly the strongest in the world.

Da Vinci leafed a few pages back.

"Ainz Ooal Gown" - was also written on the page.

Cainabel was a disgusting person, it was impossible to communicate with her and to call her a "bitch" would be like giving a compliment. However, Da Vinci herself did not lie that she was an interesting conversationalist.

Cainabel did not hide her intentions. If it weren't for Ainz, she would have turned this world into a bloody mess long ago, she would have killed everyone and everything, would have increased her strength and set off for the next world. But Ainz was here.

Cainabel willingly shared information that related to her achievements - and especially the achievements of Ainz. Da Vinci herself believed that it was a kind of defense mechanism - Cainabel was extremely self-confident, but at the same time she did lose to Ainz. She definitely could not lose to a weakling, so in a sense she loved to retell Ainz's adventures - after all, they all proved that he was not just strong, but monstrously, divinely strong. In other words, she lost to him only because his strength could not be described in words. A defense reaction, classic.

Therefore, Cainabel loved to talk about the achievements of Ainz. In a sense, his achievements were part of her achievements.

Da Vinci glanced at the notes.

Ainz Ooal Gown, conqueror of the worlds, lord of the undead, god of undeath.

He conquered thousands, thousands of countries, and destroyed whole worlds.

He also saved them.

From the World Eater, a creature that has absorbed all the power of the Root. From the Eight Great Dragons crippled and corrupted by the evil of the World Eater. From the Twelve Seraphim of Sephiroth, who decided to destroy the unclean world. From the Seven Lords of Sins, trying to seize power in all worlds. From the Five Rainbow Buddhas, trying to restore the world to its original state of "purity." And from the Lord of Six Heaven, who was trying to regain the power of the Creators in order to recreate past worlds destroyed by the war.

Ainz was full of controversy.

The horrors created by him, the murdered heroes and annihilated kingdoms would be enough for a thousand villains.

His heroism, saved worlds, killed monsters and prevented catastrophes would be enough for a thousand heroes.

That was weird. Funny, to some extent, even.

Apparently from what Da Vinci knew about Ainz, he can only act in two ways out of all.

To conquer this world, destroy, enslave and force humanity into cruel experiments.

Or heroically save them, without demanding anything in return, and then go into the sunset, without telling anyone his name and without even giving a hint that he did it.

Leonardo Da Vinci leafed a few pages back, after which she peered at the notebook.

There were two pictures on the pages.

On one of them was a skeleton. Although to call this creature simply a skeleton was impossible. It was the embodiment of death - dressed in the most luxurious mantle woven from pure darkness, nine rings of divine power on its fingers, in the red fire of its eyes - great secrets and infinite power.

On the other page was a simple person. He was an ordinary looking, weakly smiling person, in a white shirt and black pants, with a cup of green tea, looking thoughtfully into the distance. One of the most ordinary of passers-by. One on whose shoulders rests the fate of the whole working world.

Da Vinci took a sip and peered at the two drawings.

Access to the power of the strongest soldiers in the world. Search for the greatest of artifacts. To gather power for battle.

Only two kinds of people would do this.

Arch-villains.

And great heroes.

But what is the truth?

Da Vinci smiled.

This remained a mystery.

And if something in the life of Da Vinci loved and hated more than anything, then it was a mystery.

"Ainz Ooal Gown," - Da Vinci smiled at her thoughts and looked at the door, behind which the back of her friend hid for a long time, - "How many more mysteries will you throw me?"

"Leonardo Da Vinci" - a voice came from the speakers suddenly - "Your presence is required in the main conversation room."

"Hm," the girl sighed. Of course, the second Singularity.

Whoever Ainz Ooal Gown was, they fought on the same side.

And Da Vinci really hoped that it would remain so. Where else would she find so many interesting puzzles to solve?


Name: Leonardo Da Vinci

Race: Human

Title: Natural Born Genius

Occupation: Commandant of the Chaldea Security Organization (self-nominated)

Residence: Chaldea, Da Vinci's office in the administrative wing

Karma: +150 (Neutral Good ~ Good)

Race level: -

Class Level: Mage ~ Academic (15)

Genius (5)

Archmage (5)

Magic Explorer (9)

Scientist (10)

Others (15)

Total: 59 Class Levels = 59 General Levels

HP: 10

Mana: 90

Physical Attack: 10

Physical Defense: 0

Agility: 40

Magical Attack: 100

Magical Defense: 0

Resistance: 60

Special Abilities: 100

Ability: Uomo Universale

Level: Special

One of the rare "special" abilities. While most abilities, no matter how strong they are, are subject to the general game rules, some unique builds have "special" abilities, abilities that violate the usual game logic. Specifically, in this case, this ability spends a certain amount of mana for a certain level of damage dealt and deals exactly one hundred percent of the current health of the target, including all the defenses it possess, damage reduction and regeneration. In other words, it is an unblockable magic instakill that circumvents all defenses against instakills due to the fact that this spell deals damage. On the other hand, if the target has the ability to resurrect, block damage, invulnerability, or the user does not have enough mana to completely destroy the target with the ability, this ability will actually be useless, since its mana costs are incredibly high.

Player Comments:

- So, what is the right name for it? Zero stats, zero health, zero defense... And perhaps one of the strongest abilities I've ever seen. This is a Lethal Joke Character, by all means.

- Unique build. One time use, of course. After using the ability it's useless. But for that one ability, this is a great idea.

- You can kill it with one blow. One hit - and she's dead. If you do not have time to make the blow - you are already dead. Simple, huh.
 
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