- Location
- Texas
I knew I read the chapter before! Thought I'd gone crazy or something for a while there.I thought it was a new chapter but it was posted on sb a month ago!
Yellowness (Overlord NPC-SI/OC)
- Thread starter Midas_Man
- Start date
- Location
- USA
I think it's more polished as well, though it could just be me misremembering the original.
Chapter 13 - The Abyss Stares Back...
Midas_Man
One of the Brightest Stars
Finally, it is done!!! almost 25 pages long.... [cries in starboi]
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So Ainz eventually noticed Shalltear's mind control issue.
I only found out he knew when 'Maid Team Six' busts down my door and drags me back to Nazarick.
I had thought I that during the whole Shalltear thing I'd just be told to 'duck and cover' until the situation was over or just be told to continue my 'tasks' like with Sebas and Solution. But no, I get thrown into a literal bunker with nothing more said on the issue.
No what happens is that I get bagged and dragged back to Nazarick. Okay, that is an exaggeration. There was neither door busting, bagging, or dragging involved. In truth, what happened was three of the Pleiades just teleported into my home, curtsied, and said Ainz instructed them to bring me back to the Tomb while I was eating a late breakfast. All very calm and professional.
Though there was that one thing that might have caused an incident.
See, after fighting the Black Scripture I may have gone a bit gung-ho and made several more golems for my personal use. Only a dozen. A baker's dozen that is. But that's not the point! The issue was all these animated suits of armor see a bunch of people teleport directly into my dining room and try to spirit me away. I only had seconds to give them a hand gesture to back off before they tried to impale the Pleiades with their weapons. Doubtful they would have succeeded, but still it would have been an awkward conversation regardless.
And as the days passed, I was getting so antsy and bored here that I even tried reading some of the reports the homunculi alchemists sent from their field research. Packets upon packets of reports thick enough to stop a bullet stacked upon one another and alphabetized by subject. These things were utterly dry and filled with all manner of technical terminology and numbers that almost went over my head. I mean I understood what they meant and were implying, but it was just so damn boring. If I can't bring myself to care what the systemic differences between types of "Apples" are when why would I care about why properties "Dry Wood" has?
By the time I reached "H" for Horses I just told them they were doing a good job, tossed the pile to the side, and had the girls store it all somewhere.
In-between me getting antsy from boredom and concern that there was a way someone could look into my item box and see the World Item I have stashed in there, Ainz went out to defeat Shalltear and resurrected her. Not a lot of fanfare for the second thing. Shalltear was hardly the most popular person in the Tomb before all of this, now that she has the 'stain' of 'betrayal' she's even less well regarded. Or so I'm told by my homunculi.
Honestly, I find the whole situation eyerolling.
I'd like to think I have more grounds than most to dislike that sadistic bloodsucker, given all her unwarranted advances on me. By all accounts, I should be cheering on this hate spiral she's found herself in. I should be happy. Yet here I sit just annoyed by the whole situation. Shalltear's being put through the ringer for actions she in no way can be held accountable for. Everything leading up to her mind control, that's all on her. But her turning on Nazarick and attacking Ainz?
If these people are too stupid to understand the concepts of free will and agency, then what can I do? I actually had my free will taken away, so I think I have some genuine perspective on this line of thought.
Yet as I sit here wallowing in my own boredom, wondering when I can finally get back to Arwintar, I have to face my newest problem: actually working.
See, as Nazarck's 'greatest authority on magical phenomena' (citation needed!) I was tasked by Albedo to find out what caused Shalltear to turn traitor. You know at first I thought that she had somehow looked into my item box and saw Downfall of Castle and Country in there and this was a roundabout way for me to say I had the world item in question.
Then I realize my head would probably be on a pike by now if she even thought I had anything to do with that whole mess. Relative or not, I doubt she would give me any mercy if she had a whiff that I was treasonous or as I like to call it free thinking.
Still, this left me in a bit of a bind. Even with all the visual record of the event on hand, I knew factually what happened, but I could hardly say the truth. Imagine saying 'oh I know why Shalltear turned traitor! Yes, I learned about it from watching the anime this world is based off of before I was isekaied and trapped in this fucking Tomb for over a decade!' I'd look insane, assuming I live and wasn't killed by Skellyman in fit of paranoia.
So as the hour drew close for my 'presentation' I was left with a single question: how well can I bullshit this?
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"-and given all that, I can make a general assumption on the series of events that led to Shalltear's incident," Citrinitas read off her report and cleared her throat. "Shalltear would have been utterly bored with the amount of resistance she was facing in her search for a Martial Arts user, and a bored Shalltear has a nasty tendency to play with her food. In whatever frenzy she was in, she either encountered, or sought out, a foe she thought would entertain her. In her state of bloodlust, or simple overconfidence, she underestimated her opponent and this was the unfortunate result."
Ainz sighed to himself as the homunculus basically summed up his thoughts on the issue. What a mess…
Citrinitas had been in his office for the last hour explaining in excruciating detail all the information Nazarick knew on the events prior to Shalltear's mind control. To be frank, he didn't think he even needed a after action report for this, but Albedo jumped the gun and ordered one before he could get a single word in. In truth, he was far less concerned about Shalltear's actions and conduct and more concerned with confirmation of World Items in this world beyond the one's in Nazarcik's treasury. Even the best case scenario, a single-use World Item, still shows that there are genuine threats in this world that he has few defense against. Other than arming the guardians with their own World Items to counter whatever force assaulted Shalltear he cant really do anything.
For the first time since arriving in the New World, he feel's genuinely threatened.
"And there is no evidence of who may have cast this?" Ainz questioned.
"None," she shook her head, "all I can say is that they are probably still alive since there were no corpses in the immediate area."
"Then our next course of action is obvious," Albedo spoke up. "We should hunt down and punish whoever sought to kill Lord Ainz."
Ainz was about to caution Albdeo's bloodlust but he noticed Citrinitas fidget in place, her expression twisting as if she had more to say. "Is there something you would like to add, Citrinitas?"
"Um…yes," she cleared her throat and flipped through several papers. "I would say- recommend that no retaliatory actions be taken at this time, even if we knew who did this."
"Forgive me, sister, but are you saying we should let this slight against the honor of our Lord go unpunished," Albedo pressed before Ainz could agree with the homunculus. While stern, Albedo's tone lacked the bite Ainz normally heard when she was defending his 'honor'. Maybe their familial relations in their Bios have them hold a bit more of a cordial relationship? He knows Aura may get annoyed by Mare, but she never uses the tone she argues with Shalltear with on her younger brother.
"No," she countered her elder sister, "I'm saying rushing in blindly could lead to a worse situation."
"How could the situation be any worse," the succubus questioned, "they mind controlled Shalltear to attack our Lord. In what world does this sort of thing go unanswered?"
"Not unanswered, delayed," Citrinitas emphasized before looked to Ainz. "Forgive me, but this requires a bit of a tangent."
"Please, speak your mind," Ainz gave her the affirmative to continue.
"Thank you," she nodded. "I was planning on informing you of this when I had a more complete understanding, but circumstances are forcing my hand. To begin with, when I arrived in Arwintar my first though was to examine this world as a whole. It's dawned on me in my travels on how unbelievable all this world as it is now. That is, that the New World is so familiar to Yggdrasil."
"In what sense?" he questioned, curious himself as to where this was going. A part of him wondered how the NPCs viewed the game as opposed to real life. They clearly had an understanding of the nine realms of Yggdrasil, but how far did that understanding go when they are free to think for themselves without the constraints of code and data.
"All of it," she motioned her arms. "Nothing in this world makes sense. Health potions are blue, fifth tier magic is considered beyond powerful, and for the most part the lifeforms here are brittle as glass to just name a few differences from Yggdrasil. Yet the underlying problem I had was the assumption that this world works just like the old one because some things line up; tier magic and the like. What I was trying to figure out was why? Why all these similarities from two entirely different...realities is the better word than worlds."
Ainz hadn't actually thought of it like that. When this all started, he was half tempted to believe he was going to be woken up in a hospital with a severe case of brain damage and end up on the street after failing to pay his medical bills. By the time he finally settled into the role of Nazarick's Overlord and got a handel of the situation, he was more concerned with seeing if any of his guildmates arrived here than worry about the causes of all similarities he has seen.
"And you've discovered…" Albedo urged her sister to continue.
"I have discovered that we are not the first from Yggdrasil to arrive in the New World, nor will we be the last," the world seemed to stop as Citrinitas finished her statement.
Ainz felt the emotion suppressor kick in as the first inklings of dread ran down his back and a thousand thoughts raced through his mind. "Oh? What has led you to that conclusion?"
"There is a pattern in this world's history," Citrinitas began. "Six hundred years ago, the Slane Theocracy's so called 'Six Gods' appeared. They taught tier magic to humans and helped establish the first human realms in this world. According to ancient texts, they were powerful beings with boundless knowledge, powerful artifacts, and enough power to lay waste to all before them."
"Please don't tell me you've taken the word of these lesser beings as fact sister?" Albedo challenged the homunculus's research, he could see her roll her eyes at her sister's findings. "They are hardly the best source for information. Afterall, if these so called Gods even existed, where are they now?"
"But that's my point they aren't gods," Citrinitas countered, "within a century, every one of these god's is reported to have died. Some from old age, of all things, while the rest were killed by beings this world refers to as the Eight Greed Kings. These beings were also noted to have god like powers, powerful artifacts, and did lay waste to all before them. Chroniclers explicitly say that the Kings slaughtered their way across the land, killing every non-humanoid they could get their hands on. A few go so far as to say that the Greed Kings genocide was the only reason humans emerged as the dominant race in this area."
'Wait a moment…' something clicked in Ainz's mind. The behavior Cirtinitas mentioned mirrored that of many humanoid Yggdrasil Players. Assuming his mindset has been changed after he became his character, could the opposite hold true for others? That is, a human from Earth being transferred into their human, or humanoid, character retaining their regular thought processes and emotions. If that was the case, what would they do if they saw humanity under threat and knew they had the power to save it?
Maybe a better question: would Suzuki Satoru have waited so long to intervene in the attack on Crane village or been so calm with killing another person to keep his connection with Shalltear a secret from the humans of E-Rathel? What would he have done differently?
As his emotional suppresser kick in once more, he had a sinking suspicious he knew where this line of conversation was going but a part of him hoped the homunculus was horribly wrong
"They got their title of 'Greed Kings' for eventually turning on one another after carving out a vast empire for themselves," the homunculus continued. "The only thing left of their legacy is their empire's capital. It's said to be a floating city in the middle of the desert that has a constant supply of fresh water pouring forth from it and an untold cache of powerful magical items held within."
That sounded an awful lot like a guild base. There was hardly a limitation where a base could be located. One base in Muspelheim was built into an always erupting volcano, while another in Alfheim was built within a literal tree. Even floating bases were hardly rare in Yggdrasil. The guild Seraphim for instance, was well known for their flying guild base whose gaudy aesthetics matched their guild's angelic theme.
"And the point of this history lesson is what sister?" Albedo gestured for her sister to get to the point of her tangent.
"The point," Citrinitas shot a look at her elder sister for the repeated interruptions, "is that there is a pattern in this world's history. A cycle of powerful, god like, to these people, beings who appear, do great deeds, then vanish either because they die out, disappear, or get killed by the next group that show up."
"Six hundred years ago the Theocracy's Gods appear. Five hundred years ago, the Eight Greed Kings appear. Three hundred years ago, a hero of unparallel strength just comes out of nowhere, performs great feats and deeds similar to what Lord Ainz is doing as Momon, then disappears as swiftly as he appeared," Citrinitas began to rattle off dates and events one after another. "Two hundred years ago, the thirteen heroes and evil deities appear, not to mention a vampire named Landfall also just appears and wipes out an entire nation in a single night. I don't know about you, but I'm certain we all know a certain vampire who is powerful enough to do that as well."
'Oh my God…' the information was all clicking into Ainz's mind and a sense of dread began to fill his form.
"It is my belief that people from Yggdrasil appear in this world every century or so," Citrinitas concluded.
"And so you're saying that you believe Shalltear encountered another Player?" Ainz felt his emotional suppressant properly kicking in as the implications of this raced through his mind and fear crept down his spine. It actually made a sort of sense. Given Shalltear's power, race, and extremely negative karma rating, it is only natural that a more good, or simply neutral, aligned Player would see her as a massive threat. By the same metric, if he encountered a Shalltear-like creature, even as he is now, Ainz would have endeavored to destroy it immediately. Yet the cold rationalizing of it all mixed with the fury that someone forced him to kill his friend's NPC.
"Or someone with items from Yggdrasil, and World Items at that," Citrinitas cautioned, shaking her head. "Any more than that, I can't really say. Hell I can't even say if the items even work the same way in the hands of these new worlders. "
The statement caused Ainz think back to the village girl Enri who he gave the pair of goblin horns to. They were a trash drop that summons monsters at such so low levels that he didn't think much of it when he handed them to her. When he saw the goblin troop for the first time with Darkness, they made him curious. Not their equipment, though well crafted by the village's standards was pitiful even to Players, but the goblins themselves. Monster summons in Yggdrasil only lasted one hour at most, yet from Lupusregina's reports these goblins have been a constant presence in Carne since they appeared. It's hardly the first difference in effects from Yggdrasil he's seen. For instance, while a summoned Death Knight will disappeared after an appropriate amount of time, they will remain indefinably should a corpse be used in their creation.
So, if something as trash like the Horn of the Goblin General what differing effects would World Items have? Was Shalltear's predicament caused by the unintended effects an item can have in this world?
"…and so we have all the more reason to-"
"Enough Albedo," Ainz interrupted the argument that had been rolling on while he was in his thoughts. "Your debate is going in circles. I agree with Citrinitas's points and so we shall exercise caution on this matter. I will not have another servant of mine rush off in to yet another incident."
"Yes, of course Lord Ainz. I apologize for my comments," Albedo gave him a curt bow. "I was too blinded by my desire for justice at indignity you suffered to think as clearly on the matter as you have."
"What about the other Players that probably are or were already here?" The homunculus questioned. "Or whatever those Slane guys have or that city those Greed Kings left behind."
Right. That…
"We continue as we were before, gathering information and learning about this world, but with greater caution," Ainz decided turning to Albedo. "I want you and Demiurge to create a series of contingences for encounters with other Players and distribute them to anyone working outside the Tomb.
"In what sense my Lord?"
"First Contact Protocols in a sense," Ainz explained. "A set of guidelines for how they should conduct themselves before another Player. What to do when they are amicable to further interaction, or what to do should said they be hostile to the Tomb. Those sorts of things."
"Of course, Lord Ainz, it shall be done," Albedo obeyed.
Ainz somewhat tuned out the rest of the meeting after that. He remembers Citrinitas leaving and Albedo talking about a possible new source of message scrolls, but beyond that he had more things to worry about than simple scrolls.
While he has a sense of renewed hope of finding some of his fellow guildmates, the reality of what Citrinitas has said implies that there may be many more people than just his friends in the New World. Possibly scared and alone, they might just lash out at anything that looked threatening which happen to include a sizable portion of Nazarick's populace. Ainz hardly wanted to just go around killing other Players for no good reason. The best-case scenario is that other Players would be amenable to cooperation and mutual assistance.
The worst case would be facing another person like himself: teleporting to this world with a guildbase filled to the brim with POPs and NPCs. It may not even be their own fault for aggression, maybe their NPCs drive them down a certain direction like his own have to him.
But he'll cross that bridge when he gets there.
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Leaving the meeting, still trying to figure out how the hell I managed to get out of it in one piece, I ran into a group of people I would have rather not interact with.
"Lady Citrinitas, is that you," it was a group of Shalltear's brides, all handled together by a doorway. Several pairs of blood red eyes landed on me as they noticed my presence.
Oh dear. "Look, I don't-" I hardly had time to bullshit an excuse away from them before they rushed before of me.
"Please Lady Citrinitas, help Mistress Shalltear," the knelt and bowed so low their heads touched the stone floor.
Oh fuck this nonsense.
"Look, I have to be….somewhere that's not here. Excuse-" as I try to walk pass the kowtowing vampires, a cold hand grabbed my ankle.
"Please your Ladyship," the bride grabbing me continued, her head still facing the floor even as she tightened her grip on me. "Mistress Shalltear is suffering from the acts she was forced to commit and we cannot do anything to raise her spirits."
"Have you tried having sex with her? That might cheer her up," I joked, still trying to get my leg free.
"It was our first course of action my Lady," another bride commented. "But nothing we did would rouse her from her sorrow. Worse, she didn't even strike us for our actions."
"And that's a bad thing?"
"It is," the bride replied. "Even following Lord Peroroncino's…departure from the Tomb, Mistress Shalltear was never so depressed or filled with sorrow as to ignore punishing us. Her current state is beyond anything we have seen before."
"But why is she so upset if Ainz has already forgiven her?" I massaged my temple as I felt a headache creep up on me. "Shouldn't that have convinced her to be normal again?"
"He has indeed forgiven her," the bride countered. "But Lady Shalltear believes that Lord Ainz, in his infinite kindness, only told her what she wanted to hear to comfort her. Deep down, she is still haunted by the actions she was forced to commit. Her fear and self doubt is further fed by every insult and jab the other Guardians give her, real or perceived."
"Of course it is…" I mumbled in exasperation.
" And as it stands now, our Mistress is unfit for her duties as Guardian of the first floors," the vampire continued, now arcing her head up to look at me. "But if you could intercede…" she let the question just run off. Her big red eyes were like some puppy begging for a treat. But in this case, it was to help the sadomasochist vampire who abuses them.
Oh for the love of…
"Where is she anyway?"
"Over there," the bride indicated towards the doorway they were huddled around prior. "Since her resurrection, she spends all her time in the Sous Chef's Bar in an attempt to drink her sorrow away."
True to their word, there was only a single patron slumped over at the bar surrounded by emptied glasses. A fungus like creature, the Sous Chef I guess, must have sensed my presence, and so looked up from the glass he was cleaning to see who was looking into his domain. For whatever reason, the moment his eyes met me mushroom head shot back down to the glass he was cleaning.
Weird.
I was about to tell the vampire brides to that I don't care what happens to Shalltear until something just clicked inside me. There was just something about seeing someone, even one like her, drown in a sea of sorrow over having their agency stolen by something that just…just…
…reminds me of myself…
….how I felt back then….
"So," my voice made the vampire jolt in her seat, "this is where you've been hiding?" I didn't even realize I was approaching the bar until I was halfway there. It looked like she wanted to get up, a glass tipped over as she straightened her back, but seemingly felt it was too much effort and slumped back down onto the cool bar surface.
Despite my mind screaming at me that this was not my problem, my damn bleeding-heart empathized way too much with her situation. I'll just say my piece and be done with this.
"Mmmmm….Citrinitas," she whined the name out. "Did Lord Ainz send you to dissect me to find out why I'm such a failure?"
"If he did, I would have come with some muscle. I'm far too squishy to deal with you myself," I settled down at the bar with an empty stool between us.
"I wouldn't resist," Shalltear turned her head, so she was looking towards the wall. "Maybe the only value I have left is what someone like you can find out to prevent others from being as pathetic as me…"
"Well, it's good that I am not here under any orders," given how depressed she is, might be better to just be straight and not make any more jokes. "I was also curious to find out what you were doing in this bar. Hardly the kind of place I would see you go. No offence, of course," I apologized to the fungus-man.
"None taken, Madam," the bartender coolly replied, though he still kept his head down polishing the same glass from when I walked in.
"Then maybe the dungeon is where I belong," Shalltear depreciated herself.
'I can see you liking a certain type of dungeon' is what I really wanted to quip back. "What are you doing here anyway?"
"I'm just drinking my sorrow away," Shalltear bemoaned, lifting up an empty glass. "Maybe if I drink enough of this stuff I'll forget my failure…"
"Shalltear…you can't get drunk, your undead," I sigh at the vampire's line of logic. This might be a bit more difficult than I thought it would be.
The sadist was quiet for a moment, then dropped the glass and whined, "I can't even be a failure right…."
As the barkeep reached over to pick up the glass, still refusing to look at us, an awkward silence took hold. Shalltear made no move to pick up the refilled glass placed beside her, her interest suitably taken by the wall. Thought it felt like she could feel my eyes on the back of her head, and I could almost hear sniffles coming from her in the silence.
"Shalltear, are you going to-"
"If one of my brides acted against me I would have killed her," she interrupted me. "I would kill her on the spot, tortured her even, to serve as a warning to the others. I not only acted against a Supreme Being, but I tried to kill him. By all rights, I should be dead."
"Shalltear I don't think-"
"He's just too kind and compassionate to do it!" I jumped a bit at her raised voice. "But everyone else… they know what I did and what I deserve. But Lord Ainz he just…I…He…" her words from that point onward descended into incoherent mumbles.
Silence fell between us as I tried to think of another way to get this across to her.
"You know I would only tell you the truth right?"
"Mmmm yeah…" she mumbled.
Probably not the best choice on your part.
"So listen to me when I say that all the steps leading to you being compromised were solely your fault," time for some tough love. "You're an overconfident sadomasochist who finds joy in torturing things that are weaker than you or abusing them to your hearts content. You're arrogant, selfish, quick to anger at the slightest unconvince, and easily sidetracked by your emotions." Perhaps unsurprisingly she didn't react to the accusations of enjoying torture or abuse the same way she did with being called arrogant, shivering at the word. "That being said, everything that happened after you got controlled was not your fault."
"What!" that got a reaction from Shalltear as she shot up and looked at me. "How can you say that! I raised my arms against a Supreme Being with the intent to kill him! There is no punishment severe or harsh enough for what I did!"
"Who already forgave you because he knew you weren't in control of yourself," I had no idea of that was what he said exactly, but I can assume Ainz would say something akin to that.
"Because he's pitying me," Shalltear countered. "Due his great compassion and mercy he is refraining for giving me a punishment I justly deserve."
Hmmmmm.
Perhaps I need a more practical example.
Conjuring my item box I quickly found what I was looking for. In a single swift motion, I placed a blade to Shalltear's throat. The Sous Chef stepped back as the situation seemingly escalated. Don't worry mushroom man, I have no intention of staring a fight here.
"Citrinitas…I…" She stared at me with wide eyes, yet did nothing to move the cold edge from her jugular.
"If I cut your throat right here who is at fault: me or the blade?" I propose the dilemma to her.
"I…I…don't.."
"What would be blamed for your death, the weapon that cut your throat or the hand that guided it?" I press the blade into her flesh, knowing full well it will not break the skin. the same question, just worded differently. "By your logic, my sword would hold all the blame for what I do. And if we take this train of thought to the logical next step…" I shove the handle of the blade into one of her hands. With my hand on hers, clasping her fingers around it, I move the blade to my throat.
"If you cut my throat, who would-"
"Stop it!" The visibly distressed Shalltear used her actual strength for the first time with me and unclenched her hand before moving it away from me. The problem though was that my hand was still holding her fingers even if she had released her grip. So when she retched her hand back, my arm went forward with it and pulled the rest of my body along for the ride.
That meant…
Thud!
"Fuck!" I swore as my face slammed into the bar. Righting myself back up, I cradled my now bloodied nose while keenly aware my lip was also cut from the sharp edge.
"Citrintias! I- I – I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…I was just trying to…oh, here I go again…" Shalltear shot out of her chair and babbled as she watched me. She looked like she was conflicted on whether to comfort me or keep her distance as she saw me reach once more into my item box.
I didn't say anything, knowing the pain would probably just make me swear at her or something that would render the whole little song and dance I just did with the sword pointless. It didn't take long for me to find a heath potion and to start pouring the sanguine stuff onto my head. As with my ribs before, I could feel my injures mend themselves together moments after the first drop touch my scalp. Unlike the last time, I didn't use the whole thing, just enough for my cuts and bruise to me healed.
"I'm fine," I told her, "You didn't do any permeant damage, it just startled me."
She didn't reply. Eyes cast downward, she turned to take her seat again. Before she sat down, I grabbed her shoulder.
"Wha-"
"Look, the point I was trying to make is that when you are not in control of yourself you are not accountable for said actions," I just get to the point this time rather than act smart with overly complicated symbolism. "Everything up to that moment is absolutely your fault. But you attacking Ainz? No. That is all on the people who attacked you. Or rather, who fought back when you attacked them. Maybe getting mind controlled was your fault, but everything done under its way was by there hands not yours."
Again, she did not respond but she also didn't try to get out of my hold. Perhaps afraid she'll hurt me again.
Maybe I need yet another strategy…
"I'm smarter than most people in this place and Ainz is" a salaryman "even smarter still," I try another line of discussion. "So if the two of us are saying you are not at fault, then you are not at fault."
"But everyone-"
"Oh for the love of….Who cares what they think," This was getting too frustrating. After dealing with her constant self-pity thing, I grabbed and made her look me in the eyes. "Listen to me: Who cares what others think? Albedo thinks any slight against Ainz, real or not, warrants a death sentence and Demiurge overthinks everything to the point of insanity! You didn't care about what they thought of you before, so why now? Ainz said it's over, I'm saying it's over, so it's over. If you want to blame someone, blame the ones who did that to you."
I think I was almost venting my own frustrations at this point.
"I'm just a screw up, what can I-"
"You can fight them!" I cut her off, my tone of voice seemingly taking her by surprise. There was just something about seeing her just roll over, throw up her hands, and accept what happened to her as her own fault that really rubbed me the wrong way. "Don't tell me you're just going to roll over and let them get away with what they did to you!"
"But-"
"No 'but's'" I have no idea where this is coming from. It's actually taking me by surprise. "They surprised you last time, next time you'll be ready for it."
"….." she didn't reply and tried to look away from me even as I held her head in place. She looked so defeated and broken. There was just something about how she broke down a wallowed in self-pity over actions against her will that infuriated me…
…. Isn't that you felt once…
…what would you do…
…
…what will you do…
"If it was me, I would sooner see this entire world burn to ash around me before I would just let them walk away without punishment," wow where was this venom coming from? It was certainly surprising Shalltear as much as me. Even as the words left my lips, and anger bubbled in my belly, I could barely contain myself. "There would be no force in the universe that would stop me before I mete out justice for every wrong they committed against me. Only after everything they built and cared for has been ripped from their hands and torn apart before their very eyes, when they finally realize the scale of their own decimation and understand a fraction of the hopelessness I felt, will my rage be sated."
Shalltear stared at me with eyes wide eyes. Where the hell did all that come from? Sure, I can relate to her loss of agency due to the whole being trapped for a decade thing but I have no idea where this bile was coming from. After all, its all in the past for me
"And you're you," getting a grip of myself, I bring the whole conversation back to Shalltear and her predicament. "You have both the means and ability to fight back. If you want to heap blame around, blame the gaggle of fools who tried to control you! Now get up, stop trying to get drunk, learn from your mistakes, and move on with your life already you stupid vampire!"
A deathly silence fell upon the bar like a crypt. The barkeep, the brides still huddled by the doorway, Shalltear, even myself. There was a feeling as if something was about to happen. A fear that Shalltear would snap? Me? I don't know.
But as quickly as it came, the silence was lifted by sniffles.
Then soft laughter.
Shalltear rubbed her face into her sleeve as she continued to giggle to herself. "I never knew you could be so forceful Citrinitas. If I had known…" She made a moaning sound under her breath rather than finish her sentence.
"Please don't tell me you got off at me yelling at you," I groaned at the possibility. Though the fact she was making jokes at all meant my words did have some effect on her.
"If this were any other situation…" she said to herself, sighing she looked me in the eye. "I- Thank you. I understand what you're trying to tell me Citrinitas. I guess I just needed to hear it from someone other than Lord Ainz. Thank you."
"So…are you going to be okay then?" I asked wondering if my job was done. Though I was going to leave Nazarick regardless, it always feels off to leave a job 'half finished' as they say.
"What I…This is hardly something I can work through in a single conversation," Shalltear admitted with a sad smile. "But thanks. I think…I think I can work through this now."
"Well, that's better than earlier-" I was cut off by the vampire embracing me in a tight hug. Her momentum almost took me off my feet.
"Thank you," she whispered. Unlike the other times she got physical with me this was different. It was hard to put into words, but her body language screamed that she was looking for comfort rather than desire. Without realizing it, my arms had already wrapped around her to reciprocate her embrace.
This was a monster.
A cruel beast in the guise of a girl.
She's an unrepentant killer and sadist who plays with her victims in every conceivable way until they either break or she grows bored and grants them the release of death if she's feeling generous.
"Thank you," I heard her whisper again, her face snuggling into my shoulder as the embrace continued.
And yet all I can see right now is someone whose lonely and scared.
Right now, she's someone who just needs a hug.
-------------------------------------------------
"So how did the mission go?"
The question was the first thing the Captain heard after he left the Pontiff Maximus's solar. Beyond the initial report he gave to the cardinals, his Holiness requested to meet him in private to discuss certain events of the last mission in greater detail. Hardly unexpected given the absolute failure of the Scripture's last mission.
What was unexpected, was to see Zesshi Zetsumi waiting for him.
"Well?" Zesshi commented, her eyes never leaving the rubix cube in her hand. "How bad was it?"
"Don't you have the report?" As the Black Scripture's Extra Seat, she receives a copy of all the reports he hands into the Cardinals.
"I can't be bothered to read it," The Captain sighed at her response. "So?"
"The mission was an absolute failure," he grimaced at the words.
"More disaster than failure," she quipped back. "A quarter of the Scripture dying isn't anything noteworthy, but having some of their specialized gear taken, not to mention loss of Downfall of Castle and Country, is beyond simple failure. I can only imagine how incensed they must be right now." Despite her words, her tone was more akin to playful banter then any worry or concern.
"I thought you didn't read the report?" he questioned.
"I hardly need to read when I can hear priests whispering about it when they think no one is listening," she let out a happy hum as she successfully matched all the colored squares on one side of the cube. "I'm just curious about the stuff that isn't being gossiped about."
"We encountered a powerful vampire before being decimated by a warlock," The Captain sighed as he remembered the encounters. "The vampire, a creature called Shalltear, pushed me aside like I was a plaything and tore its way through the Eight and Ninth Seats to hit Lady Karie, all in a single strike. She had been in the process of bringing it under our thrall when the vampire's strike landed on her. While I am confident the process still affected it, we were unsuccessful in dominating its mind."
"So this vampire, was it strong?" Zesshi's interest was piqued at the mention of the creature.
"Unprecedentedly so," he grimaced at the memory of the encounter.
"Hmmmm," the Extra Seat hummed to herself as her smile turned predatory. "Then who do you think would win in a fight: me or the vampire?"
"You would, naturally," The Captain immediately replied, the answer was obvious. Powerful as it might be, nothing can stand before Certain Death herself and live. The vampire would be cut down in short order if the two fought. Though he will admit it would probably last longer than Zetsumi's prior targets.
"Oh," Zesshi sighed in disappointment. "What about the warlock then?"
"She is one of the most powerful magic casters I have ever encountered," he recalled the blonde woman he fought. "Disgustingly powerful and skilled in black magic, she brought an entire host of wraiths under her sway to attack us while we were weakened. She killed the Second and Tenth Seats outright, mortally wounded the Fourth Seat, before ripping Downfall of Castle and Country from Lady Karie's still warm body. I engaged her, we traded blows, but she managed to escape."
"So she actually managed to keep up with you?" her interest peaked again, though not to the same degree as before.
"She was sloppy, uncoordinated in melee, but yes she held her ground for a time. But magic is her true strength, and she wielded it with the skill I wield my polearm with," just the mention of her magic caused a phantom pain to pang in his chest from here her last curse washed over him.
"Not normal then," the woman commented. "Think she's like us?"
The Captain nodded, "that is the leading theory." Though he had held the opinion when he clashed with her, the cardinals agreed with his assessment that the magic caster was most likely a godkin. The revelation caused a whole slew of new arguments to erupt in the chamber. Because somehow, someway, a godkin had slipped through the Theocracy's fingers. It's almost too ridiculous to believe.
The Theocracy keeps immaculate records of all known godkin lineages for this very kind of situation. Contrary to what some might assume, while all godkin can trace their linages back to one of the Six Great Gods, it is not an unbroken line. That is, not all children will manifest the full potential of their divine bloodline. While it is unheard of for these children to be normal, typically manifesting either strange talents or unique skills, few will ever manifest a fraction of a true godkin's power.
In short, a godkin could father dozens of children and none of them manifest his degree of powers. But that doesn't precluded their decedents from manifesting as godkin. While the bloodlines will thin out as generation pass, it is far from uncommon for a child to be born godkin yet the last godkin to be born of their line is their great-great-great grandparent.
Such as his family's case.
To the best of the Theocracy's knowledge, while there are forty-nine known linages whose bloodlines can potentially manifest godkin, there are only four godkin in the known world.
Zesshi.
Himself.
His Holiness the Pontiff Maximus.
And now the magic caster he recently fought.
How ironic that for all her bluster about the Gods, her own strength is a result of her own divine lineage.
Yet despite their divine ancestry, not all godkin are equally gifted with power. Ignoring the oddity that is Zesshi, most godkin vary in raw power. For example, His Holiness is only slightly stronger than a baseline human but is blessed with unparallel divine casting ability that easily reaches into the seventh tier. By contrast, the Captain he has greater strength and endurance than most humans will ever achieve but is comparatively middling in terms of magical prowess though he doubts any would call third tier magic middling. The only trait shared amongst godkin was longer lifespans and some exotic aesthetics.
"So, what's the plan regarding the woman?" Zesshi questioned.
The captain sighed, "capture at all costs. Lethal force is prohibited under any circumstances."
"Really? Even after everything she's done?"
"You know why," It was his shake his head at Zesshi. With a new godkin on the playing field, it opened new opportunities for the Theocracy. It was well recorded that the chance of a godkin is almost guaranteed should both the mother and father be godkins themselves and the bloodline is more powerful even for children who do not manifest fully. In essence, should she be captured she will most likely be held in confinement for the rest of her life to bare children in the hopes continuing her line.
"I know, I just think it's funny," Zesshi snickered. "A person who's committed so much heresy in their eyes yet they can't even kill her. The Gods sure love their jokes."
"It was ruled that the threat of her having a contingency in place to destroy her own body upon death was too great a risk," he wouldn't put it past someone like her to have some trick up her sleeve to keep herself from being revived.
"Talk about tying your hands," fiddled with another row of colored squares on her cube. "Still, she seems far less interesting than the vampire."
"Oh? And why's that?"
"Beyond her being a woman, If someone like you could fight her to a standstill, then there's no point in me even challenging her," Zesshi sighed. Out of context, her words would easily come off as an attack on someone. But this was Certain Death. It was no more insulting then saying the Sun rises east to west or that fire burns wood. "Hey, think they'll make you breed her if she's captured?"
"I'd…rather not think about it," The Captain brushed off Zesshi's question.
"What? Is she not attractive enough? Is she horribly disfigured under her mask or is her shape simply not took your liking? Or has the Pontiff already laid his claim on her?"
"Looks are hardly a measure when it comes to these sorts of things," this conversation was taking a turn into uncomfortable territory for him, beyond the mention of his holiness in such a way. Still, he could not deny that the woman's looks far outshone the appearances of his wives. Like comparing coal to diamonds. Yet when he looked upon her, there was something about her that made his skin crawl. A cold darkness to her that poisoned all it touched.
"I suppose you're right," Zeeshi sighed and looked down from her cube to her belly. "When I find a man that can defeat me, it won't matter if he is the most disgusting, the most monstrous, or even the most inbred person in the world. I will gladly take his seed and sire his spawn. Just imagine how strong a child of our union would be…"
Seeing the Extra Seat's sinister smile as she imagines her ideal 'husband' always reminds him of an offhand comment he heard when he was younger. Back when he first saw the heterochromatic woman, he was stunned by her beauty. But seeing his infatuation, his instructor told him to forget about her. Going on to say that any man interested in Zesshi would experience something akin to walking into a beartrap.
At the time, he thought it was a comment about her declaration that only someone who could defeat her could marry her, and the 'beartrap' was the bloody results of all the failed suitors. Years later, after he assumed the role of Captain and got to know the woman firsthand, he learned the "beartrap" referred to something far cruder than it first seemed.
Not that he doubts Zesshi would strongly disagree with the sentiment.
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So more of a fluffy chapter, Ainz being Ainz, Citrinitas being....whatever the hell they are now, Shalltear getting hugs, and the theocracy's going on the hunt.
Overall a fine chapter I say!
My fingers hurt from typing....
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So Ainz eventually noticed Shalltear's mind control issue.
I only found out he knew when 'Maid Team Six' busts down my door and drags me back to Nazarick.
I had thought I that during the whole Shalltear thing I'd just be told to 'duck and cover' until the situation was over or just be told to continue my 'tasks' like with Sebas and Solution. But no, I get thrown into a literal bunker with nothing more said on the issue.
No what happens is that I get bagged and dragged back to Nazarick. Okay, that is an exaggeration. There was neither door busting, bagging, or dragging involved. In truth, what happened was three of the Pleiades just teleported into my home, curtsied, and said Ainz instructed them to bring me back to the Tomb while I was eating a late breakfast. All very calm and professional.
Though there was that one thing that might have caused an incident.
See, after fighting the Black Scripture I may have gone a bit gung-ho and made several more golems for my personal use. Only a dozen. A baker's dozen that is. But that's not the point! The issue was all these animated suits of armor see a bunch of people teleport directly into my dining room and try to spirit me away. I only had seconds to give them a hand gesture to back off before they tried to impale the Pleiades with their weapons. Doubtful they would have succeeded, but still it would have been an awkward conversation regardless.
And as the days passed, I was getting so antsy and bored here that I even tried reading some of the reports the homunculi alchemists sent from their field research. Packets upon packets of reports thick enough to stop a bullet stacked upon one another and alphabetized by subject. These things were utterly dry and filled with all manner of technical terminology and numbers that almost went over my head. I mean I understood what they meant and were implying, but it was just so damn boring. If I can't bring myself to care what the systemic differences between types of "Apples" are when why would I care about why properties "Dry Wood" has?
By the time I reached "H" for Horses I just told them they were doing a good job, tossed the pile to the side, and had the girls store it all somewhere.
In-between me getting antsy from boredom and concern that there was a way someone could look into my item box and see the World Item I have stashed in there, Ainz went out to defeat Shalltear and resurrected her. Not a lot of fanfare for the second thing. Shalltear was hardly the most popular person in the Tomb before all of this, now that she has the 'stain' of 'betrayal' she's even less well regarded. Or so I'm told by my homunculi.
Honestly, I find the whole situation eyerolling.
I'd like to think I have more grounds than most to dislike that sadistic bloodsucker, given all her unwarranted advances on me. By all accounts, I should be cheering on this hate spiral she's found herself in. I should be happy. Yet here I sit just annoyed by the whole situation. Shalltear's being put through the ringer for actions she in no way can be held accountable for. Everything leading up to her mind control, that's all on her. But her turning on Nazarick and attacking Ainz?
If these people are too stupid to understand the concepts of free will and agency, then what can I do? I actually had my free will taken away, so I think I have some genuine perspective on this line of thought.
Yet as I sit here wallowing in my own boredom, wondering when I can finally get back to Arwintar, I have to face my newest problem: actually working.
See, as Nazarck's 'greatest authority on magical phenomena' (citation needed!) I was tasked by Albedo to find out what caused Shalltear to turn traitor. You know at first I thought that she had somehow looked into my item box and saw Downfall of Castle and Country in there and this was a roundabout way for me to say I had the world item in question.
Then I realize my head would probably be on a pike by now if she even thought I had anything to do with that whole mess. Relative or not, I doubt she would give me any mercy if she had a whiff that I was treasonous or as I like to call it free thinking.
Still, this left me in a bit of a bind. Even with all the visual record of the event on hand, I knew factually what happened, but I could hardly say the truth. Imagine saying 'oh I know why Shalltear turned traitor! Yes, I learned about it from watching the anime this world is based off of before I was isekaied and trapped in this fucking Tomb for over a decade!' I'd look insane, assuming I live and wasn't killed by Skellyman in fit of paranoia.
So as the hour drew close for my 'presentation' I was left with a single question: how well can I bullshit this?
--------------------------------------------------
"-and given all that, I can make a general assumption on the series of events that led to Shalltear's incident," Citrinitas read off her report and cleared her throat. "Shalltear would have been utterly bored with the amount of resistance she was facing in her search for a Martial Arts user, and a bored Shalltear has a nasty tendency to play with her food. In whatever frenzy she was in, she either encountered, or sought out, a foe she thought would entertain her. In her state of bloodlust, or simple overconfidence, she underestimated her opponent and this was the unfortunate result."
Ainz sighed to himself as the homunculus basically summed up his thoughts on the issue. What a mess…
Citrinitas had been in his office for the last hour explaining in excruciating detail all the information Nazarick knew on the events prior to Shalltear's mind control. To be frank, he didn't think he even needed a after action report for this, but Albedo jumped the gun and ordered one before he could get a single word in. In truth, he was far less concerned about Shalltear's actions and conduct and more concerned with confirmation of World Items in this world beyond the one's in Nazarcik's treasury. Even the best case scenario, a single-use World Item, still shows that there are genuine threats in this world that he has few defense against. Other than arming the guardians with their own World Items to counter whatever force assaulted Shalltear he cant really do anything.
For the first time since arriving in the New World, he feel's genuinely threatened.
"And there is no evidence of who may have cast this?" Ainz questioned.
"None," she shook her head, "all I can say is that they are probably still alive since there were no corpses in the immediate area."
"Then our next course of action is obvious," Albedo spoke up. "We should hunt down and punish whoever sought to kill Lord Ainz."
Ainz was about to caution Albdeo's bloodlust but he noticed Citrinitas fidget in place, her expression twisting as if she had more to say. "Is there something you would like to add, Citrinitas?"
"Um…yes," she cleared her throat and flipped through several papers. "I would say- recommend that no retaliatory actions be taken at this time, even if we knew who did this."
"Forgive me, sister, but are you saying we should let this slight against the honor of our Lord go unpunished," Albedo pressed before Ainz could agree with the homunculus. While stern, Albedo's tone lacked the bite Ainz normally heard when she was defending his 'honor'. Maybe their familial relations in their Bios have them hold a bit more of a cordial relationship? He knows Aura may get annoyed by Mare, but she never uses the tone she argues with Shalltear with on her younger brother.
"No," she countered her elder sister, "I'm saying rushing in blindly could lead to a worse situation."
"How could the situation be any worse," the succubus questioned, "they mind controlled Shalltear to attack our Lord. In what world does this sort of thing go unanswered?"
"Not unanswered, delayed," Citrinitas emphasized before looked to Ainz. "Forgive me, but this requires a bit of a tangent."
"Please, speak your mind," Ainz gave her the affirmative to continue.
"Thank you," she nodded. "I was planning on informing you of this when I had a more complete understanding, but circumstances are forcing my hand. To begin with, when I arrived in Arwintar my first though was to examine this world as a whole. It's dawned on me in my travels on how unbelievable all this world as it is now. That is, that the New World is so familiar to Yggdrasil."
"In what sense?" he questioned, curious himself as to where this was going. A part of him wondered how the NPCs viewed the game as opposed to real life. They clearly had an understanding of the nine realms of Yggdrasil, but how far did that understanding go when they are free to think for themselves without the constraints of code and data.
"All of it," she motioned her arms. "Nothing in this world makes sense. Health potions are blue, fifth tier magic is considered beyond powerful, and for the most part the lifeforms here are brittle as glass to just name a few differences from Yggdrasil. Yet the underlying problem I had was the assumption that this world works just like the old one because some things line up; tier magic and the like. What I was trying to figure out was why? Why all these similarities from two entirely different...realities is the better word than worlds."
Ainz hadn't actually thought of it like that. When this all started, he was half tempted to believe he was going to be woken up in a hospital with a severe case of brain damage and end up on the street after failing to pay his medical bills. By the time he finally settled into the role of Nazarick's Overlord and got a handel of the situation, he was more concerned with seeing if any of his guildmates arrived here than worry about the causes of all similarities he has seen.
"And you've discovered…" Albedo urged her sister to continue.
"I have discovered that we are not the first from Yggdrasil to arrive in the New World, nor will we be the last," the world seemed to stop as Citrinitas finished her statement.
Ainz felt the emotion suppressor kick in as the first inklings of dread ran down his back and a thousand thoughts raced through his mind. "Oh? What has led you to that conclusion?"
"There is a pattern in this world's history," Citrinitas began. "Six hundred years ago, the Slane Theocracy's so called 'Six Gods' appeared. They taught tier magic to humans and helped establish the first human realms in this world. According to ancient texts, they were powerful beings with boundless knowledge, powerful artifacts, and enough power to lay waste to all before them."
"Please don't tell me you've taken the word of these lesser beings as fact sister?" Albedo challenged the homunculus's research, he could see her roll her eyes at her sister's findings. "They are hardly the best source for information. Afterall, if these so called Gods even existed, where are they now?"
"But that's my point they aren't gods," Citrinitas countered, "within a century, every one of these god's is reported to have died. Some from old age, of all things, while the rest were killed by beings this world refers to as the Eight Greed Kings. These beings were also noted to have god like powers, powerful artifacts, and did lay waste to all before them. Chroniclers explicitly say that the Kings slaughtered their way across the land, killing every non-humanoid they could get their hands on. A few go so far as to say that the Greed Kings genocide was the only reason humans emerged as the dominant race in this area."
'Wait a moment…' something clicked in Ainz's mind. The behavior Cirtinitas mentioned mirrored that of many humanoid Yggdrasil Players. Assuming his mindset has been changed after he became his character, could the opposite hold true for others? That is, a human from Earth being transferred into their human, or humanoid, character retaining their regular thought processes and emotions. If that was the case, what would they do if they saw humanity under threat and knew they had the power to save it?
Maybe a better question: would Suzuki Satoru have waited so long to intervene in the attack on Crane village or been so calm with killing another person to keep his connection with Shalltear a secret from the humans of E-Rathel? What would he have done differently?
As his emotional suppresser kick in once more, he had a sinking suspicious he knew where this line of conversation was going but a part of him hoped the homunculus was horribly wrong
"They got their title of 'Greed Kings' for eventually turning on one another after carving out a vast empire for themselves," the homunculus continued. "The only thing left of their legacy is their empire's capital. It's said to be a floating city in the middle of the desert that has a constant supply of fresh water pouring forth from it and an untold cache of powerful magical items held within."
That sounded an awful lot like a guild base. There was hardly a limitation where a base could be located. One base in Muspelheim was built into an always erupting volcano, while another in Alfheim was built within a literal tree. Even floating bases were hardly rare in Yggdrasil. The guild Seraphim for instance, was well known for their flying guild base whose gaudy aesthetics matched their guild's angelic theme.
"And the point of this history lesson is what sister?" Albedo gestured for her sister to get to the point of her tangent.
"The point," Citrinitas shot a look at her elder sister for the repeated interruptions, "is that there is a pattern in this world's history. A cycle of powerful, god like, to these people, beings who appear, do great deeds, then vanish either because they die out, disappear, or get killed by the next group that show up."
"Six hundred years ago the Theocracy's Gods appear. Five hundred years ago, the Eight Greed Kings appear. Three hundred years ago, a hero of unparallel strength just comes out of nowhere, performs great feats and deeds similar to what Lord Ainz is doing as Momon, then disappears as swiftly as he appeared," Citrinitas began to rattle off dates and events one after another. "Two hundred years ago, the thirteen heroes and evil deities appear, not to mention a vampire named Landfall also just appears and wipes out an entire nation in a single night. I don't know about you, but I'm certain we all know a certain vampire who is powerful enough to do that as well."
'Oh my God…' the information was all clicking into Ainz's mind and a sense of dread began to fill his form.
"It is my belief that people from Yggdrasil appear in this world every century or so," Citrinitas concluded.
"And so you're saying that you believe Shalltear encountered another Player?" Ainz felt his emotional suppressant properly kicking in as the implications of this raced through his mind and fear crept down his spine. It actually made a sort of sense. Given Shalltear's power, race, and extremely negative karma rating, it is only natural that a more good, or simply neutral, aligned Player would see her as a massive threat. By the same metric, if he encountered a Shalltear-like creature, even as he is now, Ainz would have endeavored to destroy it immediately. Yet the cold rationalizing of it all mixed with the fury that someone forced him to kill his friend's NPC.
"Or someone with items from Yggdrasil, and World Items at that," Citrinitas cautioned, shaking her head. "Any more than that, I can't really say. Hell I can't even say if the items even work the same way in the hands of these new worlders. "
The statement caused Ainz think back to the village girl Enri who he gave the pair of goblin horns to. They were a trash drop that summons monsters at such so low levels that he didn't think much of it when he handed them to her. When he saw the goblin troop for the first time with Darkness, they made him curious. Not their equipment, though well crafted by the village's standards was pitiful even to Players, but the goblins themselves. Monster summons in Yggdrasil only lasted one hour at most, yet from Lupusregina's reports these goblins have been a constant presence in Carne since they appeared. It's hardly the first difference in effects from Yggdrasil he's seen. For instance, while a summoned Death Knight will disappeared after an appropriate amount of time, they will remain indefinably should a corpse be used in their creation.
So, if something as trash like the Horn of the Goblin General what differing effects would World Items have? Was Shalltear's predicament caused by the unintended effects an item can have in this world?
"…and so we have all the more reason to-"
"Enough Albedo," Ainz interrupted the argument that had been rolling on while he was in his thoughts. "Your debate is going in circles. I agree with Citrinitas's points and so we shall exercise caution on this matter. I will not have another servant of mine rush off in to yet another incident."
"Yes, of course Lord Ainz. I apologize for my comments," Albedo gave him a curt bow. "I was too blinded by my desire for justice at indignity you suffered to think as clearly on the matter as you have."
"What about the other Players that probably are or were already here?" The homunculus questioned. "Or whatever those Slane guys have or that city those Greed Kings left behind."
Right. That…
"We continue as we were before, gathering information and learning about this world, but with greater caution," Ainz decided turning to Albedo. "I want you and Demiurge to create a series of contingences for encounters with other Players and distribute them to anyone working outside the Tomb.
"In what sense my Lord?"
"First Contact Protocols in a sense," Ainz explained. "A set of guidelines for how they should conduct themselves before another Player. What to do when they are amicable to further interaction, or what to do should said they be hostile to the Tomb. Those sorts of things."
"Of course, Lord Ainz, it shall be done," Albedo obeyed.
Ainz somewhat tuned out the rest of the meeting after that. He remembers Citrinitas leaving and Albedo talking about a possible new source of message scrolls, but beyond that he had more things to worry about than simple scrolls.
While he has a sense of renewed hope of finding some of his fellow guildmates, the reality of what Citrinitas has said implies that there may be many more people than just his friends in the New World. Possibly scared and alone, they might just lash out at anything that looked threatening which happen to include a sizable portion of Nazarick's populace. Ainz hardly wanted to just go around killing other Players for no good reason. The best-case scenario is that other Players would be amenable to cooperation and mutual assistance.
The worst case would be facing another person like himself: teleporting to this world with a guildbase filled to the brim with POPs and NPCs. It may not even be their own fault for aggression, maybe their NPCs drive them down a certain direction like his own have to him.
But he'll cross that bridge when he gets there.
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Leaving the meeting, still trying to figure out how the hell I managed to get out of it in one piece, I ran into a group of people I would have rather not interact with.
"Lady Citrinitas, is that you," it was a group of Shalltear's brides, all handled together by a doorway. Several pairs of blood red eyes landed on me as they noticed my presence.
Oh dear. "Look, I don't-" I hardly had time to bullshit an excuse away from them before they rushed before of me.
"Please Lady Citrinitas, help Mistress Shalltear," the knelt and bowed so low their heads touched the stone floor.
Oh fuck this nonsense.
"Look, I have to be….somewhere that's not here. Excuse-" as I try to walk pass the kowtowing vampires, a cold hand grabbed my ankle.
"Please your Ladyship," the bride grabbing me continued, her head still facing the floor even as she tightened her grip on me. "Mistress Shalltear is suffering from the acts she was forced to commit and we cannot do anything to raise her spirits."
"Have you tried having sex with her? That might cheer her up," I joked, still trying to get my leg free.
"It was our first course of action my Lady," another bride commented. "But nothing we did would rouse her from her sorrow. Worse, she didn't even strike us for our actions."
"And that's a bad thing?"
"It is," the bride replied. "Even following Lord Peroroncino's…departure from the Tomb, Mistress Shalltear was never so depressed or filled with sorrow as to ignore punishing us. Her current state is beyond anything we have seen before."
"But why is she so upset if Ainz has already forgiven her?" I massaged my temple as I felt a headache creep up on me. "Shouldn't that have convinced her to be normal again?"
"He has indeed forgiven her," the bride countered. "But Lady Shalltear believes that Lord Ainz, in his infinite kindness, only told her what she wanted to hear to comfort her. Deep down, she is still haunted by the actions she was forced to commit. Her fear and self doubt is further fed by every insult and jab the other Guardians give her, real or perceived."
"Of course it is…" I mumbled in exasperation.
" And as it stands now, our Mistress is unfit for her duties as Guardian of the first floors," the vampire continued, now arcing her head up to look at me. "But if you could intercede…" she let the question just run off. Her big red eyes were like some puppy begging for a treat. But in this case, it was to help the sadomasochist vampire who abuses them.
Oh for the love of…
"Where is she anyway?"
"Over there," the bride indicated towards the doorway they were huddled around prior. "Since her resurrection, she spends all her time in the Sous Chef's Bar in an attempt to drink her sorrow away."
True to their word, there was only a single patron slumped over at the bar surrounded by emptied glasses. A fungus like creature, the Sous Chef I guess, must have sensed my presence, and so looked up from the glass he was cleaning to see who was looking into his domain. For whatever reason, the moment his eyes met me mushroom head shot back down to the glass he was cleaning.
Weird.
I was about to tell the vampire brides to that I don't care what happens to Shalltear until something just clicked inside me. There was just something about seeing someone, even one like her, drown in a sea of sorrow over having their agency stolen by something that just…just…
…reminds me of myself…
….how I felt back then….
"So," my voice made the vampire jolt in her seat, "this is where you've been hiding?" I didn't even realize I was approaching the bar until I was halfway there. It looked like she wanted to get up, a glass tipped over as she straightened her back, but seemingly felt it was too much effort and slumped back down onto the cool bar surface.
Despite my mind screaming at me that this was not my problem, my damn bleeding-heart empathized way too much with her situation. I'll just say my piece and be done with this.
"Mmmmm….Citrinitas," she whined the name out. "Did Lord Ainz send you to dissect me to find out why I'm such a failure?"
"If he did, I would have come with some muscle. I'm far too squishy to deal with you myself," I settled down at the bar with an empty stool between us.
"I wouldn't resist," Shalltear turned her head, so she was looking towards the wall. "Maybe the only value I have left is what someone like you can find out to prevent others from being as pathetic as me…"
"Well, it's good that I am not here under any orders," given how depressed she is, might be better to just be straight and not make any more jokes. "I was also curious to find out what you were doing in this bar. Hardly the kind of place I would see you go. No offence, of course," I apologized to the fungus-man.
"None taken, Madam," the bartender coolly replied, though he still kept his head down polishing the same glass from when I walked in.
"Then maybe the dungeon is where I belong," Shalltear depreciated herself.
'I can see you liking a certain type of dungeon' is what I really wanted to quip back. "What are you doing here anyway?"
"I'm just drinking my sorrow away," Shalltear bemoaned, lifting up an empty glass. "Maybe if I drink enough of this stuff I'll forget my failure…"
"Shalltear…you can't get drunk, your undead," I sigh at the vampire's line of logic. This might be a bit more difficult than I thought it would be.
The sadist was quiet for a moment, then dropped the glass and whined, "I can't even be a failure right…."
As the barkeep reached over to pick up the glass, still refusing to look at us, an awkward silence took hold. Shalltear made no move to pick up the refilled glass placed beside her, her interest suitably taken by the wall. Thought it felt like she could feel my eyes on the back of her head, and I could almost hear sniffles coming from her in the silence.
"Shalltear, are you going to-"
"If one of my brides acted against me I would have killed her," she interrupted me. "I would kill her on the spot, tortured her even, to serve as a warning to the others. I not only acted against a Supreme Being, but I tried to kill him. By all rights, I should be dead."
"Shalltear I don't think-"
"He's just too kind and compassionate to do it!" I jumped a bit at her raised voice. "But everyone else… they know what I did and what I deserve. But Lord Ainz he just…I…He…" her words from that point onward descended into incoherent mumbles.
Silence fell between us as I tried to think of another way to get this across to her.
"You know I would only tell you the truth right?"
"Mmmm yeah…" she mumbled.
Probably not the best choice on your part.
"So listen to me when I say that all the steps leading to you being compromised were solely your fault," time for some tough love. "You're an overconfident sadomasochist who finds joy in torturing things that are weaker than you or abusing them to your hearts content. You're arrogant, selfish, quick to anger at the slightest unconvince, and easily sidetracked by your emotions." Perhaps unsurprisingly she didn't react to the accusations of enjoying torture or abuse the same way she did with being called arrogant, shivering at the word. "That being said, everything that happened after you got controlled was not your fault."
"What!" that got a reaction from Shalltear as she shot up and looked at me. "How can you say that! I raised my arms against a Supreme Being with the intent to kill him! There is no punishment severe or harsh enough for what I did!"
"Who already forgave you because he knew you weren't in control of yourself," I had no idea of that was what he said exactly, but I can assume Ainz would say something akin to that.
"Because he's pitying me," Shalltear countered. "Due his great compassion and mercy he is refraining for giving me a punishment I justly deserve."
Hmmmmm.
Perhaps I need a more practical example.
Conjuring my item box I quickly found what I was looking for. In a single swift motion, I placed a blade to Shalltear's throat. The Sous Chef stepped back as the situation seemingly escalated. Don't worry mushroom man, I have no intention of staring a fight here.
"Citrinitas…I…" She stared at me with wide eyes, yet did nothing to move the cold edge from her jugular.
"If I cut your throat right here who is at fault: me or the blade?" I propose the dilemma to her.
"I…I…don't.."
"What would be blamed for your death, the weapon that cut your throat or the hand that guided it?" I press the blade into her flesh, knowing full well it will not break the skin. the same question, just worded differently. "By your logic, my sword would hold all the blame for what I do. And if we take this train of thought to the logical next step…" I shove the handle of the blade into one of her hands. With my hand on hers, clasping her fingers around it, I move the blade to my throat.
"If you cut my throat, who would-"
"Stop it!" The visibly distressed Shalltear used her actual strength for the first time with me and unclenched her hand before moving it away from me. The problem though was that my hand was still holding her fingers even if she had released her grip. So when she retched her hand back, my arm went forward with it and pulled the rest of my body along for the ride.
That meant…
Thud!
"Fuck!" I swore as my face slammed into the bar. Righting myself back up, I cradled my now bloodied nose while keenly aware my lip was also cut from the sharp edge.
"Citrintias! I- I – I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…I was just trying to…oh, here I go again…" Shalltear shot out of her chair and babbled as she watched me. She looked like she was conflicted on whether to comfort me or keep her distance as she saw me reach once more into my item box.
I didn't say anything, knowing the pain would probably just make me swear at her or something that would render the whole little song and dance I just did with the sword pointless. It didn't take long for me to find a heath potion and to start pouring the sanguine stuff onto my head. As with my ribs before, I could feel my injures mend themselves together moments after the first drop touch my scalp. Unlike the last time, I didn't use the whole thing, just enough for my cuts and bruise to me healed.
"I'm fine," I told her, "You didn't do any permeant damage, it just startled me."
She didn't reply. Eyes cast downward, she turned to take her seat again. Before she sat down, I grabbed her shoulder.
"Wha-"
"Look, the point I was trying to make is that when you are not in control of yourself you are not accountable for said actions," I just get to the point this time rather than act smart with overly complicated symbolism. "Everything up to that moment is absolutely your fault. But you attacking Ainz? No. That is all on the people who attacked you. Or rather, who fought back when you attacked them. Maybe getting mind controlled was your fault, but everything done under its way was by there hands not yours."
Again, she did not respond but she also didn't try to get out of my hold. Perhaps afraid she'll hurt me again.
Maybe I need yet another strategy…
"I'm smarter than most people in this place and Ainz is" a salaryman "even smarter still," I try another line of discussion. "So if the two of us are saying you are not at fault, then you are not at fault."
"But everyone-"
"Oh for the love of….Who cares what they think," This was getting too frustrating. After dealing with her constant self-pity thing, I grabbed and made her look me in the eyes. "Listen to me: Who cares what others think? Albedo thinks any slight against Ainz, real or not, warrants a death sentence and Demiurge overthinks everything to the point of insanity! You didn't care about what they thought of you before, so why now? Ainz said it's over, I'm saying it's over, so it's over. If you want to blame someone, blame the ones who did that to you."
I think I was almost venting my own frustrations at this point.
"I'm just a screw up, what can I-"
"You can fight them!" I cut her off, my tone of voice seemingly taking her by surprise. There was just something about seeing her just roll over, throw up her hands, and accept what happened to her as her own fault that really rubbed me the wrong way. "Don't tell me you're just going to roll over and let them get away with what they did to you!"
"But-"
"No 'but's'" I have no idea where this is coming from. It's actually taking me by surprise. "They surprised you last time, next time you'll be ready for it."
"….." she didn't reply and tried to look away from me even as I held her head in place. She looked so defeated and broken. There was just something about how she broke down a wallowed in self-pity over actions against her will that infuriated me…
…. Isn't that you felt once…
…what would you do…
…
…what will you do…
"If it was me, I would sooner see this entire world burn to ash around me before I would just let them walk away without punishment," wow where was this venom coming from? It was certainly surprising Shalltear as much as me. Even as the words left my lips, and anger bubbled in my belly, I could barely contain myself. "There would be no force in the universe that would stop me before I mete out justice for every wrong they committed against me. Only after everything they built and cared for has been ripped from their hands and torn apart before their very eyes, when they finally realize the scale of their own decimation and understand a fraction of the hopelessness I felt, will my rage be sated."
Shalltear stared at me with eyes wide eyes. Where the hell did all that come from? Sure, I can relate to her loss of agency due to the whole being trapped for a decade thing but I have no idea where this bile was coming from. After all, its all in the past for me
"And you're you," getting a grip of myself, I bring the whole conversation back to Shalltear and her predicament. "You have both the means and ability to fight back. If you want to heap blame around, blame the gaggle of fools who tried to control you! Now get up, stop trying to get drunk, learn from your mistakes, and move on with your life already you stupid vampire!"
A deathly silence fell upon the bar like a crypt. The barkeep, the brides still huddled by the doorway, Shalltear, even myself. There was a feeling as if something was about to happen. A fear that Shalltear would snap? Me? I don't know.
But as quickly as it came, the silence was lifted by sniffles.
Then soft laughter.
Shalltear rubbed her face into her sleeve as she continued to giggle to herself. "I never knew you could be so forceful Citrinitas. If I had known…" She made a moaning sound under her breath rather than finish her sentence.
"Please don't tell me you got off at me yelling at you," I groaned at the possibility. Though the fact she was making jokes at all meant my words did have some effect on her.
"If this were any other situation…" she said to herself, sighing she looked me in the eye. "I- Thank you. I understand what you're trying to tell me Citrinitas. I guess I just needed to hear it from someone other than Lord Ainz. Thank you."
"So…are you going to be okay then?" I asked wondering if my job was done. Though I was going to leave Nazarick regardless, it always feels off to leave a job 'half finished' as they say.
"What I…This is hardly something I can work through in a single conversation," Shalltear admitted with a sad smile. "But thanks. I think…I think I can work through this now."
"Well, that's better than earlier-" I was cut off by the vampire embracing me in a tight hug. Her momentum almost took me off my feet.
"Thank you," she whispered. Unlike the other times she got physical with me this was different. It was hard to put into words, but her body language screamed that she was looking for comfort rather than desire. Without realizing it, my arms had already wrapped around her to reciprocate her embrace.
This was a monster.
A cruel beast in the guise of a girl.
She's an unrepentant killer and sadist who plays with her victims in every conceivable way until they either break or she grows bored and grants them the release of death if she's feeling generous.
"Thank you," I heard her whisper again, her face snuggling into my shoulder as the embrace continued.
And yet all I can see right now is someone whose lonely and scared.
Right now, she's someone who just needs a hug.
-------------------------------------------------
"So how did the mission go?"
The question was the first thing the Captain heard after he left the Pontiff Maximus's solar. Beyond the initial report he gave to the cardinals, his Holiness requested to meet him in private to discuss certain events of the last mission in greater detail. Hardly unexpected given the absolute failure of the Scripture's last mission.
What was unexpected, was to see Zesshi Zetsumi waiting for him.
"Well?" Zesshi commented, her eyes never leaving the rubix cube in her hand. "How bad was it?"
"Don't you have the report?" As the Black Scripture's Extra Seat, she receives a copy of all the reports he hands into the Cardinals.
"I can't be bothered to read it," The Captain sighed at her response. "So?"
"The mission was an absolute failure," he grimaced at the words.
"More disaster than failure," she quipped back. "A quarter of the Scripture dying isn't anything noteworthy, but having some of their specialized gear taken, not to mention loss of Downfall of Castle and Country, is beyond simple failure. I can only imagine how incensed they must be right now." Despite her words, her tone was more akin to playful banter then any worry or concern.
"I thought you didn't read the report?" he questioned.
"I hardly need to read when I can hear priests whispering about it when they think no one is listening," she let out a happy hum as she successfully matched all the colored squares on one side of the cube. "I'm just curious about the stuff that isn't being gossiped about."
"We encountered a powerful vampire before being decimated by a warlock," The Captain sighed as he remembered the encounters. "The vampire, a creature called Shalltear, pushed me aside like I was a plaything and tore its way through the Eight and Ninth Seats to hit Lady Karie, all in a single strike. She had been in the process of bringing it under our thrall when the vampire's strike landed on her. While I am confident the process still affected it, we were unsuccessful in dominating its mind."
"So this vampire, was it strong?" Zesshi's interest was piqued at the mention of the creature.
"Unprecedentedly so," he grimaced at the memory of the encounter.
"Hmmmm," the Extra Seat hummed to herself as her smile turned predatory. "Then who do you think would win in a fight: me or the vampire?"
"You would, naturally," The Captain immediately replied, the answer was obvious. Powerful as it might be, nothing can stand before Certain Death herself and live. The vampire would be cut down in short order if the two fought. Though he will admit it would probably last longer than Zetsumi's prior targets.
"Oh," Zesshi sighed in disappointment. "What about the warlock then?"
"She is one of the most powerful magic casters I have ever encountered," he recalled the blonde woman he fought. "Disgustingly powerful and skilled in black magic, she brought an entire host of wraiths under her sway to attack us while we were weakened. She killed the Second and Tenth Seats outright, mortally wounded the Fourth Seat, before ripping Downfall of Castle and Country from Lady Karie's still warm body. I engaged her, we traded blows, but she managed to escape."
"So she actually managed to keep up with you?" her interest peaked again, though not to the same degree as before.
"She was sloppy, uncoordinated in melee, but yes she held her ground for a time. But magic is her true strength, and she wielded it with the skill I wield my polearm with," just the mention of her magic caused a phantom pain to pang in his chest from here her last curse washed over him.
"Not normal then," the woman commented. "Think she's like us?"
The Captain nodded, "that is the leading theory." Though he had held the opinion when he clashed with her, the cardinals agreed with his assessment that the magic caster was most likely a godkin. The revelation caused a whole slew of new arguments to erupt in the chamber. Because somehow, someway, a godkin had slipped through the Theocracy's fingers. It's almost too ridiculous to believe.
The Theocracy keeps immaculate records of all known godkin lineages for this very kind of situation. Contrary to what some might assume, while all godkin can trace their linages back to one of the Six Great Gods, it is not an unbroken line. That is, not all children will manifest the full potential of their divine bloodline. While it is unheard of for these children to be normal, typically manifesting either strange talents or unique skills, few will ever manifest a fraction of a true godkin's power.
In short, a godkin could father dozens of children and none of them manifest his degree of powers. But that doesn't precluded their decedents from manifesting as godkin. While the bloodlines will thin out as generation pass, it is far from uncommon for a child to be born godkin yet the last godkin to be born of their line is their great-great-great grandparent.
Such as his family's case.
To the best of the Theocracy's knowledge, while there are forty-nine known linages whose bloodlines can potentially manifest godkin, there are only four godkin in the known world.
Zesshi.
Himself.
His Holiness the Pontiff Maximus.
And now the magic caster he recently fought.
How ironic that for all her bluster about the Gods, her own strength is a result of her own divine lineage.
Yet despite their divine ancestry, not all godkin are equally gifted with power. Ignoring the oddity that is Zesshi, most godkin vary in raw power. For example, His Holiness is only slightly stronger than a baseline human but is blessed with unparallel divine casting ability that easily reaches into the seventh tier. By contrast, the Captain he has greater strength and endurance than most humans will ever achieve but is comparatively middling in terms of magical prowess though he doubts any would call third tier magic middling. The only trait shared amongst godkin was longer lifespans and some exotic aesthetics.
"So, what's the plan regarding the woman?" Zesshi questioned.
The captain sighed, "capture at all costs. Lethal force is prohibited under any circumstances."
"Really? Even after everything she's done?"
"You know why," It was his shake his head at Zesshi. With a new godkin on the playing field, it opened new opportunities for the Theocracy. It was well recorded that the chance of a godkin is almost guaranteed should both the mother and father be godkins themselves and the bloodline is more powerful even for children who do not manifest fully. In essence, should she be captured she will most likely be held in confinement for the rest of her life to bare children in the hopes continuing her line.
"I know, I just think it's funny," Zesshi snickered. "A person who's committed so much heresy in their eyes yet they can't even kill her. The Gods sure love their jokes."
"It was ruled that the threat of her having a contingency in place to destroy her own body upon death was too great a risk," he wouldn't put it past someone like her to have some trick up her sleeve to keep herself from being revived.
"Talk about tying your hands," fiddled with another row of colored squares on her cube. "Still, she seems far less interesting than the vampire."
"Oh? And why's that?"
"Beyond her being a woman, If someone like you could fight her to a standstill, then there's no point in me even challenging her," Zesshi sighed. Out of context, her words would easily come off as an attack on someone. But this was Certain Death. It was no more insulting then saying the Sun rises east to west or that fire burns wood. "Hey, think they'll make you breed her if she's captured?"
"I'd…rather not think about it," The Captain brushed off Zesshi's question.
"What? Is she not attractive enough? Is she horribly disfigured under her mask or is her shape simply not took your liking? Or has the Pontiff already laid his claim on her?"
"Looks are hardly a measure when it comes to these sorts of things," this conversation was taking a turn into uncomfortable territory for him, beyond the mention of his holiness in such a way. Still, he could not deny that the woman's looks far outshone the appearances of his wives. Like comparing coal to diamonds. Yet when he looked upon her, there was something about her that made his skin crawl. A cold darkness to her that poisoned all it touched.
"I suppose you're right," Zeeshi sighed and looked down from her cube to her belly. "When I find a man that can defeat me, it won't matter if he is the most disgusting, the most monstrous, or even the most inbred person in the world. I will gladly take his seed and sire his spawn. Just imagine how strong a child of our union would be…"
Seeing the Extra Seat's sinister smile as she imagines her ideal 'husband' always reminds him of an offhand comment he heard when he was younger. Back when he first saw the heterochromatic woman, he was stunned by her beauty. But seeing his infatuation, his instructor told him to forget about her. Going on to say that any man interested in Zesshi would experience something akin to walking into a beartrap.
At the time, he thought it was a comment about her declaration that only someone who could defeat her could marry her, and the 'beartrap' was the bloody results of all the failed suitors. Years later, after he assumed the role of Captain and got to know the woman firsthand, he learned the "beartrap" referred to something far cruder than it first seemed.
Not that he doubts Zesshi would strongly disagree with the sentiment.
----------------------------------------------------------
So more of a fluffy chapter, Ainz being Ainz, Citrinitas being....whatever the hell they are now, Shalltear getting hugs, and the theocracy's going on the hunt.
Overall a fine chapter I say!
My fingers hurt from typing....
This feels like how overlord should have unfolded into. Shame about the author stopping his work.
They're part of a dark empire. One of their mistresses, one not personally focused on being a combat monster, creating some golems/minions to react to unexpected intrusions with violence, potentially extreme violence, where she has to signal a "Stand down" when they pop in, which she does, is perfectly within expectations.
Damn it, one or two more letters...
handled->huddled
your->you're
bare->bear
Zowo
A picture paints a thousand words, good and bad
Oh… oh… now, yes, horrible horrible fate, "cursed with success"
On the other hand… not exactly… human
On the other other hand, not exactly a "descendent" nor a "Player" in the traditional sense
Oooo them dominos are gonna be glorious
Chapter 14 - The First Domino
Midas_Man
One of the Brightest Stars
New chapter, posted her, at long last.
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In the weeks following the debacle with Shalltear, Demiurge was pleased to see that Lord Ainz's finely crafted plans were progressing without issue.
As with most of his master's designs, Demiurge was in awe of his Lord's sheer brilliance. Worming his way into the trust and graces of the human populace,
Truth be told, Demiurge was afraid that the plans and schemes he was setting in motion to further his Master's plans would not only pale before the grandness of a Supreme One's vision. A pointless collection of charades that would only result in disappointment from his Lordship. It was as if every time Demiurge thought he knew Lord Ainz's plan, his Lord would show him his folly with a great reveal or a turn of phrase that proved just how little Demiurge truly understood.
The adventurer Momon's rise to prominence? The claiming of Carne Village as his personal domain? Sebas and Solution's trip to Re-Estize? Citrinitas's own little charades in Arwintar? All carefully crafted steps in his master's grand plan! Even Shalltear's folly, a blunder by every metric, was seamlessly woven into Lord Ainz's existing plans! Such was his brilliance that even setbacks advanced his designs!
And the results spoke for themselves. The 'human' hero Momon is now the rising star in the New World, his apogee nowhere in sight. Crane Village served as an excellent testing site for rulership of the human nations. Sebas's reports, on what he saw and observed in the Kingdom's capital, were the catalyst for Demiurge coming into contact with the human Renner and allowing Nazarick to gain a contact within the Kingdom's leadership caste. Citrinitas's actions have given Nazarick a foothold in the Empire.
Why just today, Lord Ainz ordered the commencement of a 'Rulership Experiment' with the lizardmen. While humans are simple enough creatures to govern, other races have different impulses and natural inclinations to account for. While a Supreme Being was more than capable of ruling any of the subjects of his future empire, most of the mundane tasks associated with ruling are naturally beneath him. Such tasks are more fit for Nazarick's denizens and servants rather than the Supreme One himself.
To that end, Cocytus was ordered to rule the Lizardmen Alliance with respect rather than fear, a test to see if Nazarick's Guardians were worthy enough to rule in Lord Ainz's name. Demiurge had assumed Aura or Mare would have been chosen for the Rulership Experiment since Cocytus was not the most administratively inclined of the Guardians. More Mare than his sister, Aura is too rambunctious for such a task.
Such is Lord Ainz's designs that no matter how any of these plots unfold, victory or defeat, Nazarick wins.
Yet as he continued to mull over the finer details of executing his Lord's numerous plans, Demiurge overheard Albedo speaking with someone.
"I will not allow it," Albedo firmly stated. Looking into the Overseer's office, he realized she was speaking over a message scroll with someone. But who? Lord Ainz? No, he quickly wrote off. She would never speak to their Lord in such a manner.
Albedo's expression morphed as she received a reply.
"And as the Overseer of the Tomb, I have final say on all matters not directly involving the Supreme One's judgment on," she commented, wrapping her fingers against the desk. "And with the power granted to me by them, I will-"
Ah.
Familial inflection. Paternal undertones. She was speaking to Citrinitas, obviously.
She sighed over whatever her sister had replied with. "His Lordship is far too busy to be bothered with such-"
Albedo closed her eyes, rubbed her temple.
"What I am trying to do is protect you," the succubus raised her voice, her expression as natural as it can be given the heatedness of the argument.
"And I will be damned if I let that happen to you!"
"We are not-," Albedo sighed, her expression shifting. One didn't need to be clairvoyant to tell the sisterly conversation had ended.
"Shall I guess what that was all about, or will you deign to tell me," Demiurge finally made his presence known, taking a few tentative steps into the Overseer's office.
"Demiurge," he could feel the iciness in her tone. "This issue doesn't involve you."
"Even if she didn't, her orders from the Supreme One come before anything you would command of her," Demiurge ignored Albedo's comment and turned to the homunculus. "I heard enough to gather you're concerned for her safety."
"She's too valuable to Nazarick to risk falling under someone else's control." 'Like Shalltear' went unsaid.
"The concept of value was hardly the primary cause for your concern," he shook his head, pushed his glasses up, and crossed the threshold of her office. "There's nothing wrong with admitting familial attachment is coloring your thoughts."
"…I worry for her," Albedo finally admitted with a sigh, the coldness in her tone draining away. "I would never seek to undermine Lord Ainz's goals with my own selfish wants, but I can't help but worry for her safety. While brilliant and talented, she is the weakest of my sisters. If whoever went after Shallter was to turn their gaze upon her…"
"Understandable," Demiurge nodded. "But don't think so little of her. The role she is to play in the first major operation of Lord Ainz's grand plan should be evidence enough of our Lord's faith in her abilities. And now that we are aware of this outside actor, they will never catch us unawares again. Shalltear's domination was shameful, but it hardly disrupted Lord Ainz's plans."
"…and how are the preparations for it moving along?" Albedo did not challenge Demiurge on their Lord's confidence but pivoted to another topic, moving away from the emotional nature of her relationship with her sister.
Demiurge knew when to not press his luck and dig deeper into a topic.
"Quite well," Demiurge smiled, seamlessly shifting along with her. "I actually find myself a bit taken aback and humbled by how quickly your sister finish preparations on her end. Here I am proud to have gotten my first collaborator, and there she is already finishing up the last of the necessary set up for her side of the operation."
"Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?" Albedo's earlier concern and iciness gave way to playful mirth and banter. While her tone was genuine, he could hardly tell if it was from his comment on her sister's actions or his perceived back footedness that his praise implied. Most likely the latter.
"Merely good sportsmanship," he dismissed the subtle jab. "I'm not so proud as to deny a well-executed plan when I see it. I expect no more than two days before her designs are completed. And after my own actions to set events into motion, all she has to do is wait until the operation begins in earnest."
"Which are still set to occur by the end of the month, at the latest, correct?"
"Naturally," Demiurge smiled. "While our Lord's persona has reached the highest adventurer rank obtainable, his deeds must be further exalted before Gehenna can begin. With his and Naberal's current rate of accumulating accolades, he will no doubt find his way to the capitol soon enough."
"So what is this plan you and my dear sister have been scheming?", Albedo questioned.
"We hardly devised it," he shook his head, "we are merely carrying out our parts of Lord Ainz's plan. We are merely humble servants executing his will."
"And that is?" she pressed him again.
"Oh, you don't know?"
"I know enough to see the end result, but the exact specifics elude me," Albedo admitted, before shooting Demiurge a look. "And I do trust you will take my sister's combat experience, or lack thereof, into account before you send some beast after her."
"I am not one to overestimate others abilities no matter how substantial they may appear at first glance," Demiurge assured the Overseer. Sharp and intelligent as she might be, Citrinitas lacked the combat skills of even Lord Ainz's handicapped Momon persona. "While the battle will be far less grand than the one in Re-Estize, it will be quite the performance and safe for her. I'm hardly going to summon an Evil Lord to be her foe."
"I'll hold you to that," Albedo noted, no doubt thinking of ways to hurt him should her precious sister be harmed in any meaningful way. "Still, I have to ask: what is the 'Demon Emperor's' connection to my sister's character? Lord Ainz's Momon is simple enough, it's a standard hero's journey tale humans can't seem to get enough of. But her part in this plan, and even your own for that matter, seem opened ended in most regards."
"For our benefit naturally," Demiurge replied. After all, how could mere servants like them be expected to follow Lord Ainz's glorious plans to the exacting letter? Knowing his subject's limits, Lord Ainz must have crafted such a scenario in such a way that even deviations from his original vision advance his grand designs! Such is the intellect of their liege. "As for her connection, well… I'll leave that a surprise."
"From Lord Ainz?" She scoffed at the notion.
"Hardly, he's fully aware of our little storyline and all the potential paths it may take," Demiurge chuckled at the mere thought of surprising his Lord. "No, the surprise is for the Tomb's denizens. After all, what good is a story if you already know the twists and turns it will take?"
While Albedo looked as if she wanted to dispute his claim, she did not raise the issue. They exchanged some more small talk over some trivial matters. Current food consumption rates, the course of Cocytus's rulership, the supply of human chattel for scroll production, nothing too important.
Still, as he made his way out of her office, he would silently admit that Albedo did have a point.
Despite her strength, Demiurge would be an utter fool to let Citrinitas wander about without any protection. Personal acquaintanceship aside, she is an asset the Tomb cannot afford to lose. Given the weakness of her own homunculi adjuncts, the most reasonable course of action was to send another with her to act as a guardian of sorts.
But that still left him with an issue that he didn't know who should play the role of her 'Lilith's' persona associate from her 'homeland'. They had to fit the theme Citrinitas had created for her fictional lands while also taking into account the origin of 'Jaldabaoth'. True, the role was meant for later in their performance, but he was certain she would understand why they had to move it up the timetable.
Yet still, who would play the role?
Aura and Mare were still mentally too young for him to put on a mission like this in spite of their strength. Sebas would be a fine choice, were he not already on a mission with Solution.
Cocytus, assuming he hadn't been preoccupied with the Rulership Experiment, is too inhuman to blend in without considerable magical illusions and too inflexible to socially integrate himself within human society.
The Pleiades were too busy seeing to Nazarick's needs and other tasks, like Lupersiga overseeing Crane Village or Naberal masquerading as Nabe with Lord Ainz.
They could hardly send an inhuman looking servant without considerable magical illusions, not to mention how well they would interact with humans for prolonged periods. He's already seen from Naberal that some in the Tomb, though loyal and true in their convictions, cannot hold their tongues when dealing with lesser beings.
It does bring up an interesting paradox, he supposed. Should a servant of the Supreme Ones defend their Master's honor, or do they hold their tongues as ordered by Lord Ainz himself and allow their Lord to be disrespected by lesser beings? It was quite the cyclical argument. They were created to serve and exalt the Supreme Ones, yet to follow their orders they must allow Lord Ainz to be insulted and to speak up in his defense would mean disobeying him.
Demiurge understands the mental dissonance such orders can cause. But in his mind, if Lord Ainz orders one to hold their tongue before a lesser being insulting himself then so be it. Did their words really matter before a godlike being such as Lord Ainz? When those lesser beings lie rotting in the ground, Lord Ainz will still be spinning machinations the likes of which even Demiurge could hardly fathom.
But as he ran through the list in his head, even considering sending one of her other sisters with her, debating who would be more amiable, Negredo or Rubedo, he had an epiphany!
There actually was one person in the Tomb who fit the criteria for a long-term mission like this. Humanoid in appearance, so she could blend in more easily with her surroundings with minimal illusionary magic required, socially aware enough to interact with lesser beings for prolonged periods (even if her baser urges need to be kept in check), strong enough to ward off any threat, and has a personal, vested, interest in working with the homunculus.
It almost seemed too fine a match for random chance.
Unless…
No.
Could He have foreseen this as well?
The variables are too specific to be a product of mere chance, a greater intelligence must have been behind it.
Lord Ainz's brilliance truly knew no bounds!
--
--
Even physically out of the Tomb, I still seemingly get roped into the nonsense that goes on there.
"And I will be damned if I let that happen to you!"
Like having an overprotective sister who thinks I'll shatter like glass if I so much as scrape my knee.
Albedo has gotten very helicopter-parent like ever since I returned to Arwitnar following Shalltear's mind control incident. I mean objectively I know she has no idea I have the item used to control Shalltear in my inventory and therefore cannot have it used against me, but she doesn't know that, and I can hardly tell her. Way too many questions can be brought from that can of worms. Still doesn't make listening to her constantly calling me to come back any less annoying.
And she keeps calling me about what it feels like every other day.
She even tried to pull rank on me. Which I countered by telling her that Ainz specifically told me to be here, and therefore she has no authority to recall me.
I mean, I think that was his order. Eh…that's the story I'm sticking with.
But I have more important things to do right now than waste half an hour talking in circles with this succubus.
I hurriedly, and clunkily, moved to end the conversation, "Look, I'm sorry, but I do have important things to do today. I'll talk to you another time."
"We are-" I cut the connection and sighed. Wish she would just stop calling me already. Oh, I can already tell I'm going to hear an earful from her next time she contacts me.
But I wasn't lying when I said I have more important things to do.
Walking away from the manor study I had sequestered myself in, I quickly made my way back to my guest. Coming towards the hallway, it seemed she had moved on from admiring the weird looking crystal chandeliers to the suits of armor on display
"What is this stuff," Arche asked when she noticed I had returned from the 'bathroom', tapping her knuckle against a transmuted suit of armor. "I can tell it's not painted, so what is it?"
"Scarletite," I answered.
"I've never heard of it," the mage admired her own reflection in the polished crimson breastplate.
After about a month away, Team Foresight finally returned from their mission a few days ago. While hardly rushing over to see me, she did catch me when I was leisurely walking the streets yesterday. Kind of a 'small world' moment where she managed to find the exact place I was in a massive city. Still, we had some small talk and I invited her over to both to just hang out and to show off my home. She accepted, and here we are today.
"It's a type of metal called a prismatic ore," I continued, feeling more than a little smug showing off Yggdrasil stuff to a new worlder. "Higher quality, and rarer, that even adamantite. And your right about not seeing it anywhere else. Brought a chunk of this stuff to a mineral expert and he had no idea what it was. I guess it's not native here?"
"Like I said, I've never heard of anything like this. At least, none of the books I've read mention anything like this stuff," Arche hummed to herself. "I mean, there are experiments into mixing metals like mythril with more mundane ores to make something new, but mineralogy is hardly my subject of choice."
"You don't say".
"Wait," the mage tilted her head as she realized something. "If it's rarer than adamantine, how can you afford so many suits of armor?" She gestured to the six other suits of armor lining the walls.
"Well Arche…that's for me to know and you to guess about," cryptic, but it's easier to leave it as that then say, 'I used my video game powers to magic it into existence'.
"Don't worry, you keep your secrets," she rolled her eyes at my over overly cryptic words.
"So you want to sit down and have something to drink," I asked, gesturing to the living room.
"Yeah, that would be nice," Arche rubbed the back of her neck. "No offense, Lilly, but while these are beautifully made, I feel like they're watching me. Weird right?"
"Not really," I shrugged, leading her into the dining room.
"Why? Did you feel the same when you first got them?" She asked.
"What? Oh no. I meant, I don't think it's weird because they are watching you," I clarified.
"…eh?" Arche stopped mid step and blinked at my comment, then swung her head around to look at the suits again.
"Yep," I smiled looking at the arrayed suits. "Take two steps forward."
Before Arche could question me further, the suits stepped off their small platforms in perfect unison. The young mage looked startled by the suddenness of the motion and had the look of a deer caught in the oncoming headlights of a speeding car at the display. Her gaze shifted between me and the golems.
"Face me," I grinned. Yeah, I was showing off a bit, loving the look of surprise on her face as the suits turned in unison to me. "Kneel", I saw her mind going into overdrive as the golems fell to one knee before us.
"How did you get…I mean, why do you have them," Arche was at a loss for words by the display.
"Remember when I said that prismatic ores are used in magical processes," I reminded her, "well one of them is to create high quality golems."
"Golems…really?"
"That's the technical term at least," I shrugged. "Constructs created with magic, that about sums up what a golem is right?"
"Um...yeah," Arche gathered herself and cleared her throat. "That is the official definition. I'm just surprised how small they are. Most golems I've seen are far bulkier."
"Bulkier as in…"
"This hallway would be too small for them," Arche explained, gesturing with her arms. "Also, they tend to be made of more common materials like rock, iron, and wood. Not that they can't be made of other materials. Master Burkens texts on the matter say that…"
Oh I think these things excited her…
"….and sure they stand upright, walk on two legs , have two arms, and usually have an analogue to a head atop the torso but they're hardly human in appearance," she noted, her hands running along the helm of the sanguine knight. "But these? They move with the grace of a normal man…"
You know, for a girl that is a bit on the quiet side, she sure has a motor mouth when she really gets into something she likes. I don't think it's the golems themselves, but the magic behind them she's interested in.
"…and look how smooth the material is. I've never seen anything like it," she continued to gush about the suits of armor. I didn't think I did that good of a job. "And the soft curves, as if the plates were forged specifically for the frame."
"Are you still talking about the golem?" I coughed as I realized exactly what I just said.
"Hm? What else could I be talking about," Arche tilted her head.
Oh Arche, you sweet summer child. Being so innocent, I cannot help myself now. "I mean, you're talking about curves and slimness, and you look like you're about to salivate on the thing."
"As an magic scholar, amateur as I am, it-" Arche's explanation stopped dead in its tracks as a tinge of redness filled her cheeks. Oh, looks like she finally realized it. She pouted and shot me a glare, "very mature, Lilly."
"I don't know, you were the one sliding your hands down along the sides saying how 'smooth to the touch' it was and complimenting its curves. Was this a slip of the tongue Arche? Maybe you had something else on your mind? You are 'that' age when these things become prevalent." I just couldn't stop myself!
"You know exactly what I was talking about," her pout intensified yet she didn't elaborate further. Probably out of fear that I would twist her words into something far less 'mature' than she intends. She's right, of course. "And besides, you're about the same age as me. Perhaps you were the one whose mind was in the gutter?"
"If you say so," not commenting on her assessment. "Couldn't you just be projecting your deepest, darkest, desires without realizing it? It starts with words, but where does it end? Should I be scared to be alone with you Arche?"
"You ought to be if you keep at it," she pouted again, I had to hold back laughing as she tried to look upset.
As much as I would love to keep teasing her, I knew better than to push my luck…this time at least.
"Fine, I'll drop it," for now, "let me just get these guys back in place and you can get to that story you have about your last job." Waving to the golems, they returned to their original places, all in eerie unison. "Now you were saying that-"
"Forgive me My Lady," Mya walked towards us, shooting Arche a quick glare before turning her eyes to me. "But you have a supplicant at the door waiting to speak to you."
"Wait…waiting for me?" that threw me for a loop.
"Yes My Lady."
"And they asked for me? By name?"
"They did not, they merely wished to speak with the owner of this domicile," Mya corrected me.
The fact that I was asked for that very generic title means that this probably wasn't someone from Nazarick. But then who could it be? Eight Fingers? A stupid Eight Fingers then if their walking up to my sfront door and announcing themselves. By that token it could even be a city guard coming by to take a statement on the issue. Maybe someone from one of the shops whose inventory I pilfered with my transmuted gold? Maybe finally figuring out I hoodwinked them with copper coins?
Waving Arche to go to the living room ahead of me, I didn't really know what to expect as I strode to the front door.
But I can safely say that I didn't expect a purple haired woman with mismatching eyes and a monocle.
"Greetings, and good morning, madam," the woman gave an overexaggerated bow, "I am Sophie Noia, Head of the Chosen. Please pay no attention to the mages hiding behind the hedges to the left."
"Uhh yeah, good morning," well this is off to a quirky start. I arched my head out of the doorway to look where she mentioned. Sure enough, I saw the top of some hoods behind the bushes. "Can I help you with something?"
"That is a bit of a story," Sophia confessed. "See, my Master has been interested in having a meeting between him and yourself for some time. While he was waiting for you to approach him yourself, your reclusiveness has caused him to change tactics and thus he dispatched a number of his disciples, myself included, to find an appropriate moment to extend an invitation. However, I feel that my time is better spent in scholarly pursuits, so I decided to simply create the appropriate moment to provide you with an invitation."
"Okay…"
"Indeed," she either didn't care or didn't notice my indifference to her words. "All you need to do is present yourself to the Earth Guards at the Ministry of Magic at your earliest convenience, tell them the Arch Wizard is waiting for you, and they'll do the rest."
"Okay. Um…thank you," I didn't really know what else to say, who was this lady even talking about?
"It is no problem madam. And since my work is done, I bid you a good day," with another exaggerated bow, she turned on her heel and walked off. Her companions rushed from the bushes after her, no doubt giving her an earful for her breaking 'cover' I guess. I watched them until they turned the corner, still bickering with one another it seemed.
Hmm, kind of strange, but not the weirdest thing to ever happen to me.
I almost forgot about the whole exchange by the time I reached the living room.
"So, who was it?" Arche asked, her gloves laid beside her on the sofa, bare hands cradling a fine China looking cup of tea.
"I don't know," I shrugged, sitting across from her. "Some lady that is part of a group called 'the Chosen' or something. Said her teacher wanted to see me or something. Sounds like a cult to me."
"Wait," that got Arche's attention. "A person from The Chosen Thirty? Did she say what her name was?"
"Umm, I think it was something Noia? Sophia I think." I was a little surprised by Arche's sudden interest.
"You mean Sophie Noia," Arche corrected, her eyes grew wide.
"Yeah, that was her name. Know her?" I took a sip of the sweet drink laid out for me. Looks like they weren't a cult after all if Arche knew them. Or maybe they were, and Arche happened to know about them.
"Lilly," she looked at me in a mix of befuddlement and amazement, "The Chosen are the personal students of Master Paradyne. The strongest mage alive," she added the second part for my benefit as I was a foreigner. "Every one of the Chosen is at least a third-tier magic caster. Sophie is a fourth-tier caster, and one of the strongest mages in the Empire."
"Oh…"I commented. Though I will say I kind of remember a guy named Paradyne in the source material. "You seem to know a lot about them."
"I know a lot about them because…I used to be a member of the Chosen," Arche looked down at her drink. "I used to be one of Master Paradyne's students, until I… when my parents started to…"
"Until you needed to help your family with their financial situation," I finished her sentence.
"To keep them from going destitute and dragging my sisters with them, yes," she frowned for a moment at the mention of her parents. "I loved learning under him, I was even on track to become a fourth-tier caster but… My sisters need me more than I needed to learn. So I left."
Oh, now I remember him! Fluder Paradyne! The Empire's quisling.
"What could he want with me?" I thought aloud. All I can really remember about the character is that he sold out his own nation after he met Ainz and saw the skeleton's true power with his magical eye talent that shows a person's magical power based on sight alone.
…
Hmm.
I think I know how he 'found' me.
"I'd guess it was because your magical power is abnormal," Arche proposed.
"Abnormal," I parroted. That's right, Arche has the same talent as him. Wait…does that mean she can see how powerful I am, or how powerful I really am?
"Abnormal in the sense you have so much magical energy," she quickly corrected herself. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she put her hand in front of her eyes. "Looking at you with my talent is like looking at a light after being confined to darkness for hours, it burns my eyes. Kind of like a less intense aura than Master Paradyne's actually."
"Really? He has more mana than me?" So as powerful as I 'am'. I guess I should be glad that the suppression ring is working if a human can be seen as more powerful than me. Then again, it kind of makes sense why Arche overreacted when she first saw Ainz in the story if my fifth-tier magical signature is enough to bother her.
"Magical energy," Arche corrected, "different from mana, and yes, he is. Master Paradyne's aura is akin to looking into the sun with your bare eyes, so bright and overpowering that it'll make you blind if you stare for too long."
You haven't seen anything yet Arche….
"And me?"
"Like I said, less intense than Master Paradyne, but still painful without preparing myself," taking a deep breath, she slowly moved her hand away from her eyes. Her eyes glowed a cerulean blue. She squinted immediately, and I could almost see her pupils dilate. "It's actually how I was able to find you the other day."
"Really?"
"Yeah," she nodded, her eyes a tad more open. "Your signature is so unique that I can pick it out across the city. Beyond Master Fluder's, yours is the only one I've ever been able to differentiate on sight alone."
"So you're saying I'm special?" For whatever reason I just loved hearing someone comment how powerful I was, even if they were only seeing half of what I was truly capable of.
"Yeah, I guess so," she took another sip of her drink. "So, when are you going to go see him?"
While I was going to give a flat, 'I'm not' the thought occurred to me.
One of the reasons for the Empire's vassalization to Ainz's kingdom was thanks to the efforts of Fluder who saw Ainz's power and just swore fealty to him on the spot. Given I have an equally ridiculous pool of mana and capable of tenth-tier magic, wouldn't he give me the same reverence if I took off my suppression ring next to him?
Granted, I can hardly just walk over, kick down the door, take off the ring, and go 'bow, I am your God now!'. Not just because I think that's a little weird, but I ugh…
"I…I don't know where he is," I sheepishly noted. Before I could say anything else, like ask for directions, I saw Arche had her eyes fully open now. Her talent enhanced sight seemingly adjusted to my reduced magical power. I stared transfixed at their color.
The blue glow was mesmerizing…
"Most days he's the Ministry of Magic's main building," Arche told me. Blinking, she cut off the talent and stood up. Smiling, she offered me her hand, "come on, I'll take you there. I know from experience that Master Paradyne doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Before I could even reply, I was led out of my own home by Arche. With her hand clasped around my own as we fast walked down the busy mid-day streets, I couldn't help but feel like this was going to be a long day for more than one reason.
--
--
"What a mess", Morrice Lowton sighed, looking over the recent letter from the Executive Committee. Raced into the city by the fastest courier service the Eight Fingers had control of. It was marked as urgent.
"How bad sir?" Gramm commented at his superior's distress. "Like how burning down bad?"
"Worse," sighing, he handed the message to Gramm for him to see what he meant. Morrice's day had been going so well until now. But this letter made his stomach turn and his blood run cold.
In response to their own failings, the Committee was now demanding greater revenue shares from their foreign branches in such a short timeframe that it was completely impossible to meet.
The cause? The adventurer group Blue Rose just took down another couple black dust plantations, meaning the Eight Finger's coffers were going to take a sizable hit in potential profits. It was the same across the board in Re-Estize thanks to the Princess's reforms. Weapons sales down, need for hired muscle down, debtors being sold into slavery racking in a fraction of their debt's value, it seemed like the only damn thing that still made a continuous profit was gambling and prostitution.
But how in the Gods name did they assume he gathered a sum five times that of his branch's annual revenue as the monthly amount they wanted from now on? It was ludicrous!
And it wasn't as if he had a choice in the matter. When the Manager of the Roble branch replied to this dictate with a strongly worded message detailing how Committee's demands were outrageous, they responded by sending the Six Limbs to 'deal' with him. The freaks tore through Roble's Branch's security and tortured the Manager to death in front of the survivors.
So no, Morrice does not have a means to counter these insane demands. It wasn't solely a monetary issue, his branch was the most solvent of all Eight Fingers operations by far, but a manpower one.
Suppose he did turn his back on the Committee, raise his 'banner' in defiance, strike out on his own, then what? Line up his own, merger, forces against the full might of the Eight Fingers? Across the Empire, he had only about eighty or so men he could rely upon to stay loyal to him if such a conflict were to break out. Granted he's been funneling the best equipment to them for quite some time, and he has men with potent Talents like Gramm by his side, but eighty against the hundreds are not odds he likes.
He also lacked the funds for any sort of prolonged conflict. True, his manpower shortage could be alleviated by purchasing the services of every worker in the Empire to act as a meat shield between himself and the Committee. And it could work….until he ran out of money to pay them, where the workers would then fight amongst themselves for the privilege of turning him over to the Eight Fingers themselves.
Maybe he would have all the funds he would ever need if his plans with that gold making girl came to fruition. He had some of his men shadow her and that worker friend of hers for a while, found out where she lived, but his plans didn't get any further than that. When his men started reporting that she was also being tailed by imperial agents he called off all observations and washed his hands of the kid. He may be greedy, but he's not stupid. The girl caught the eye of someone at court, probably a mage who wanted her to join the Ministry. Kidnapping someone with that kind of attention was bound to paint a target on his back.
So here he was: either stay loyal to the Committee and be strung up when he eventually can't meet their insane monthly quotas, or rebel and get strung up anyway when his meager forces collapse in the face of the tender mercies of the Six Limbs.
"Sir, they can't seriously think that this is workable," Gramm questioned, having finished reading the missive.
"I'm afraid they're deadly serious," Morrice nervously laughed at his own play on words.
"If that's the case, remind the men that I'll triple whatever they offer them," Morrice sighed as he cleaned his glasses. "There is very little I wouldn't give to keep my head firmly on my shoulders."
"Well then I have quite the proposition for you…"
"What-" Morrice jolted in his seat at the sudden appearance of an unknown voice.
As if appearing within the blink of an eye, someone was standing before him. There was no sound, no movement, he just appeared there. At first glance, they looked like a man, even dressed like one. Look being the keyword however, since even discounting the pointed ears and abnormal height, he knew no civilized race that had a metallic tail.
"What the-" Gramm glared at the creature, quickly placing himself between Morrice and the intruder.
"I apologize for any immediate distress I may have caused," the figure commented, spoken with an air of affable politeness, even the mask on his face unsettled Morrice to no end. "But I couldn't help but overhear your problematic situation."
"How the hell did you get in here?" Gramm ignored the pleasantries. "Hey Boys! Get in here already!"
A tiny voice in Morrice's mind whispered that his guards were probably dead if the…man was in here with them, perhaps the halls of his home were running red already. But low and behold, moments after Gramm's call, guards flooded into Morrice's office one after another. They seemed just as confused as Gramm and Morrice at the sight of the intruder. They surrounded the figure, weapons drawn, gawking at the overall strangeness of the intruder in much the same way he and Gramm had moments ago.
"The fuck is this freak doing here?" One of his men thought aloud, his blade tip centimeters from the figure's orange attire. "How'd he get in?"
"I simply entered through the front entrance," the intruder glibly replied, lolling his gaze over to the speaker. "It is hardly my fault I so completely evaded your detection when your security precautions are so pathetic."
"Pathetic!?"
"Indeed," the figure shook his head, "but your own ineptitude is hardly the issue at hand." He returned his gaze to Morrice, "instead, I would like to focus on your problems."
"You break into my home and expect to sit down and have a chat with me?" Morrice tried to hide his inner concern, hands slowly moving under his desk to a magic wand enchanted to hold several spells of the third tier. An expensive bubble that he hoped he'd never have to use in an actual capacity. He's only used it twice, both occasions to see if the wand still worked from lack of use.
"In simple terms, yes. Though no need to bring over a chair on my behalf, I prefer to stand," the metallic tail swished back and forth.
"You think you're funny?" Gramm growled at the intruder, gesturing for the men to apprehend their 'guest'. "We got a place for clowns like you, the breaking wheel."
"I would like to think I have an above average sense of humor," the man chuckled to himself as the men closed in around him. "And I would recommend against this course of action, for your own sake," the demi-human commented as a guard grabbed him by the shoulder, though his tone was still far too relaxed for one in his situation.
"Really think you're in any position to make-"
CRUNCH
Morrice blinked as he felt a gust of wind blow against him and something red splatter across his face and glasses. Taking off his glasses with a surreal sense of calm, he noticed a cloud of sanguine vita now hung where a dozen men once stood.
And there was blood everywhere….
The walls, the furniture, the windows, everything was caked in a fine layer of gore. His men were little more than pieces of flesh and bone, some pieces still held together by the thinnest of strings of meat, surrounding the figure whose attire was clean of even the smallest drop of viscera.
Of the men from before, only Gramm was miraculously still alive after whatever that was. Slumped over against a wall wheezing, trying to hold his chest closed with his bare hands in a vain effort to keep his innards in place.
"Oh? Would you look at that," the man- creature commented looking at Gramm, his voice sounding genuine for the first time since this…interaction began. "Not only did you survive my strike, but you even managed to make me feel some slight discomfort in my wrist, momentary as it might be," wringing the offending hand to emphasize the point. "But how? Not magic. No enchanted items besides the ones below the desk, no potions, no…ah! I see now. You have one of those Talents I've heard so much about? Some kind of dynamokinesis or kinetic redirection. You didn't hurt me, you redirected some of my blow back into me and in turn softened the blow against yourself. It must work automatically, since there is no possibility your reflexes were fast enough. Do I have the gist of it?"
Gramm spat at the creature as his gore-soaked form slid to the ground, still wheezing as blood filled his lung.
"Now don't be like that," the creature chastised. "I mean all of this as a compliment. Truly, congratulations are in order, as you are the first human in this world to have harmed me. Granted it was my own strength reflecting back upon me, and it was the merest hint of discomfort than actual harm, but one should hardly nitpick over details. Indeed, such deeds deserve a reward, wouldn't you say?" The demon reached into some kind of portal that seemingly appeared to his side and poured the contents of a small vial of sanguine liquid onto Gramm's blooded chest. "That should suffice. Now where was I? Oh yes, my proposition!"
Morrice looked on as Gramm's chest knitted itself back together before his very eyes. It took him only a moment to realize what the vial held, as Gramm seemingly returned to normal from the brink of death. "God's Blood? How does a demon like you have something like that?"
"Is that what you call it?" It was amused. "Moving back to the topic at hand, I wanted to discuss with you a solution to your 'committee' issues."
"We have nothing to speak of demon," Morrice's heart was threatening to burst inside his chest from fear.
"Your Executive Committee will be powerless by the end of the month," the creature brusquely cut off Morrice.
"I'm sorry?" Did he hear that right?
"Assuming they aren't killed," the demon continued. "Given the power vacuum that will form, with Roble's branch already decimated and the theocracy's branch barely existing as a solvent entity, you would be the single most powerful member of the Eight Fingers by process of elimination. In such a void, all the power would be yours, you'd only need to reach out and take it when the time comes. With my assistance of course, provided you are willing to work with me."
"I- What?" Morrice was at a loss for words. What was this creature, this demon, talking about?
"Goodness, where are my manners? I have yet to properly introduce myself," the demon took an over exaggerated bow, the kinds Morrice would see in a mummers performance. "You may call me Jaldabaoth, and as I said before, I have a proposition for you."
Without waiting for him to reply, the demon began to speak at length of his plan, of the sheer scale of his machinations as if Morrice had already agreed.
What choice did he reasonably have? Voice his refusal and become a part of the new coat of paint on the wall?
Yet as the minutes ticked by and more of the creature's plans came to light, Morrice started to feel lightheaded. It was…monstrous. Horrid. Evil.
"-but I will handle those specifics. Simply stick to your part, and I promise you shall be rewarded beyond your imagination; everything I promised and more. So, what do you think? Do we have a deal?" As the demon finished saying his piece, Morrice could only imagine the demon's facial expression mirrored that on his mask: a sinister smile that foreshadowed greater horrors just beyond the horizon.
What choice did he have?
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AN: So we have Demiurge Demiurge-ing (Sasuga Ainz-Sama!), Citrinitas getting roped into the Empire's side of the story with a spare Arche, and the demon Jaldaboath making his first appearance to those poor innocent Eight Fingers!
Overall I think a good chapter to set the next arc into motion!
And yes, in case anyone caught it, Sophie Noia is a character from Mass of the Dead (The Overlord gatcha game). Interesting character design so I thought, why not!
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In the weeks following the debacle with Shalltear, Demiurge was pleased to see that Lord Ainz's finely crafted plans were progressing without issue.
As with most of his master's designs, Demiurge was in awe of his Lord's sheer brilliance. Worming his way into the trust and graces of the human populace,
Truth be told, Demiurge was afraid that the plans and schemes he was setting in motion to further his Master's plans would not only pale before the grandness of a Supreme One's vision. A pointless collection of charades that would only result in disappointment from his Lordship. It was as if every time Demiurge thought he knew Lord Ainz's plan, his Lord would show him his folly with a great reveal or a turn of phrase that proved just how little Demiurge truly understood.
The adventurer Momon's rise to prominence? The claiming of Carne Village as his personal domain? Sebas and Solution's trip to Re-Estize? Citrinitas's own little charades in Arwintar? All carefully crafted steps in his master's grand plan! Even Shalltear's folly, a blunder by every metric, was seamlessly woven into Lord Ainz's existing plans! Such was his brilliance that even setbacks advanced his designs!
And the results spoke for themselves. The 'human' hero Momon is now the rising star in the New World, his apogee nowhere in sight. Crane Village served as an excellent testing site for rulership of the human nations. Sebas's reports, on what he saw and observed in the Kingdom's capital, were the catalyst for Demiurge coming into contact with the human Renner and allowing Nazarick to gain a contact within the Kingdom's leadership caste. Citrinitas's actions have given Nazarick a foothold in the Empire.
Why just today, Lord Ainz ordered the commencement of a 'Rulership Experiment' with the lizardmen. While humans are simple enough creatures to govern, other races have different impulses and natural inclinations to account for. While a Supreme Being was more than capable of ruling any of the subjects of his future empire, most of the mundane tasks associated with ruling are naturally beneath him. Such tasks are more fit for Nazarick's denizens and servants rather than the Supreme One himself.
To that end, Cocytus was ordered to rule the Lizardmen Alliance with respect rather than fear, a test to see if Nazarick's Guardians were worthy enough to rule in Lord Ainz's name. Demiurge had assumed Aura or Mare would have been chosen for the Rulership Experiment since Cocytus was not the most administratively inclined of the Guardians. More Mare than his sister, Aura is too rambunctious for such a task.
Such is Lord Ainz's designs that no matter how any of these plots unfold, victory or defeat, Nazarick wins.
Yet as he continued to mull over the finer details of executing his Lord's numerous plans, Demiurge overheard Albedo speaking with someone.
"I will not allow it," Albedo firmly stated. Looking into the Overseer's office, he realized she was speaking over a message scroll with someone. But who? Lord Ainz? No, he quickly wrote off. She would never speak to their Lord in such a manner.
Albedo's expression morphed as she received a reply.
"And as the Overseer of the Tomb, I have final say on all matters not directly involving the Supreme One's judgment on," she commented, wrapping her fingers against the desk. "And with the power granted to me by them, I will-"
Ah.
Familial inflection. Paternal undertones. She was speaking to Citrinitas, obviously.
She sighed over whatever her sister had replied with. "His Lordship is far too busy to be bothered with such-"
Albedo closed her eyes, rubbed her temple.
"What I am trying to do is protect you," the succubus raised her voice, her expression as natural as it can be given the heatedness of the argument.
"And I will be damned if I let that happen to you!"
"We are not-," Albedo sighed, her expression shifting. One didn't need to be clairvoyant to tell the sisterly conversation had ended.
"Shall I guess what that was all about, or will you deign to tell me," Demiurge finally made his presence known, taking a few tentative steps into the Overseer's office.
"Demiurge," he could feel the iciness in her tone. "This issue doesn't involve you."
"Even if she didn't, her orders from the Supreme One come before anything you would command of her," Demiurge ignored Albedo's comment and turned to the homunculus. "I heard enough to gather you're concerned for her safety."
"She's too valuable to Nazarick to risk falling under someone else's control." 'Like Shalltear' went unsaid.
"The concept of value was hardly the primary cause for your concern," he shook his head, pushed his glasses up, and crossed the threshold of her office. "There's nothing wrong with admitting familial attachment is coloring your thoughts."
"…I worry for her," Albedo finally admitted with a sigh, the coldness in her tone draining away. "I would never seek to undermine Lord Ainz's goals with my own selfish wants, but I can't help but worry for her safety. While brilliant and talented, she is the weakest of my sisters. If whoever went after Shallter was to turn their gaze upon her…"
"Understandable," Demiurge nodded. "But don't think so little of her. The role she is to play in the first major operation of Lord Ainz's grand plan should be evidence enough of our Lord's faith in her abilities. And now that we are aware of this outside actor, they will never catch us unawares again. Shalltear's domination was shameful, but it hardly disrupted Lord Ainz's plans."
"…and how are the preparations for it moving along?" Albedo did not challenge Demiurge on their Lord's confidence but pivoted to another topic, moving away from the emotional nature of her relationship with her sister.
Demiurge knew when to not press his luck and dig deeper into a topic.
"Quite well," Demiurge smiled, seamlessly shifting along with her. "I actually find myself a bit taken aback and humbled by how quickly your sister finish preparations on her end. Here I am proud to have gotten my first collaborator, and there she is already finishing up the last of the necessary set up for her side of the operation."
"Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?" Albedo's earlier concern and iciness gave way to playful mirth and banter. While her tone was genuine, he could hardly tell if it was from his comment on her sister's actions or his perceived back footedness that his praise implied. Most likely the latter.
"Merely good sportsmanship," he dismissed the subtle jab. "I'm not so proud as to deny a well-executed plan when I see it. I expect no more than two days before her designs are completed. And after my own actions to set events into motion, all she has to do is wait until the operation begins in earnest."
"Which are still set to occur by the end of the month, at the latest, correct?"
"Naturally," Demiurge smiled. "While our Lord's persona has reached the highest adventurer rank obtainable, his deeds must be further exalted before Gehenna can begin. With his and Naberal's current rate of accumulating accolades, he will no doubt find his way to the capitol soon enough."
"So what is this plan you and my dear sister have been scheming?", Albedo questioned.
"We hardly devised it," he shook his head, "we are merely carrying out our parts of Lord Ainz's plan. We are merely humble servants executing his will."
"And that is?" she pressed him again.
"Oh, you don't know?"
"I know enough to see the end result, but the exact specifics elude me," Albedo admitted, before shooting Demiurge a look. "And I do trust you will take my sister's combat experience, or lack thereof, into account before you send some beast after her."
"I am not one to overestimate others abilities no matter how substantial they may appear at first glance," Demiurge assured the Overseer. Sharp and intelligent as she might be, Citrinitas lacked the combat skills of even Lord Ainz's handicapped Momon persona. "While the battle will be far less grand than the one in Re-Estize, it will be quite the performance and safe for her. I'm hardly going to summon an Evil Lord to be her foe."
"I'll hold you to that," Albedo noted, no doubt thinking of ways to hurt him should her precious sister be harmed in any meaningful way. "Still, I have to ask: what is the 'Demon Emperor's' connection to my sister's character? Lord Ainz's Momon is simple enough, it's a standard hero's journey tale humans can't seem to get enough of. But her part in this plan, and even your own for that matter, seem opened ended in most regards."
"For our benefit naturally," Demiurge replied. After all, how could mere servants like them be expected to follow Lord Ainz's glorious plans to the exacting letter? Knowing his subject's limits, Lord Ainz must have crafted such a scenario in such a way that even deviations from his original vision advance his grand designs! Such is the intellect of their liege. "As for her connection, well… I'll leave that a surprise."
"From Lord Ainz?" She scoffed at the notion.
"Hardly, he's fully aware of our little storyline and all the potential paths it may take," Demiurge chuckled at the mere thought of surprising his Lord. "No, the surprise is for the Tomb's denizens. After all, what good is a story if you already know the twists and turns it will take?"
While Albedo looked as if she wanted to dispute his claim, she did not raise the issue. They exchanged some more small talk over some trivial matters. Current food consumption rates, the course of Cocytus's rulership, the supply of human chattel for scroll production, nothing too important.
Still, as he made his way out of her office, he would silently admit that Albedo did have a point.
Despite her strength, Demiurge would be an utter fool to let Citrinitas wander about without any protection. Personal acquaintanceship aside, she is an asset the Tomb cannot afford to lose. Given the weakness of her own homunculi adjuncts, the most reasonable course of action was to send another with her to act as a guardian of sorts.
But that still left him with an issue that he didn't know who should play the role of her 'Lilith's' persona associate from her 'homeland'. They had to fit the theme Citrinitas had created for her fictional lands while also taking into account the origin of 'Jaldabaoth'. True, the role was meant for later in their performance, but he was certain she would understand why they had to move it up the timetable.
Yet still, who would play the role?
Aura and Mare were still mentally too young for him to put on a mission like this in spite of their strength. Sebas would be a fine choice, were he not already on a mission with Solution.
Cocytus, assuming he hadn't been preoccupied with the Rulership Experiment, is too inhuman to blend in without considerable magical illusions and too inflexible to socially integrate himself within human society.
The Pleiades were too busy seeing to Nazarick's needs and other tasks, like Lupersiga overseeing Crane Village or Naberal masquerading as Nabe with Lord Ainz.
They could hardly send an inhuman looking servant without considerable magical illusions, not to mention how well they would interact with humans for prolonged periods. He's already seen from Naberal that some in the Tomb, though loyal and true in their convictions, cannot hold their tongues when dealing with lesser beings.
It does bring up an interesting paradox, he supposed. Should a servant of the Supreme Ones defend their Master's honor, or do they hold their tongues as ordered by Lord Ainz himself and allow their Lord to be disrespected by lesser beings? It was quite the cyclical argument. They were created to serve and exalt the Supreme Ones, yet to follow their orders they must allow Lord Ainz to be insulted and to speak up in his defense would mean disobeying him.
Demiurge understands the mental dissonance such orders can cause. But in his mind, if Lord Ainz orders one to hold their tongue before a lesser being insulting himself then so be it. Did their words really matter before a godlike being such as Lord Ainz? When those lesser beings lie rotting in the ground, Lord Ainz will still be spinning machinations the likes of which even Demiurge could hardly fathom.
But as he ran through the list in his head, even considering sending one of her other sisters with her, debating who would be more amiable, Negredo or Rubedo, he had an epiphany!
There actually was one person in the Tomb who fit the criteria for a long-term mission like this. Humanoid in appearance, so she could blend in more easily with her surroundings with minimal illusionary magic required, socially aware enough to interact with lesser beings for prolonged periods (even if her baser urges need to be kept in check), strong enough to ward off any threat, and has a personal, vested, interest in working with the homunculus.
It almost seemed too fine a match for random chance.
Unless…
No.
Could He have foreseen this as well?
The variables are too specific to be a product of mere chance, a greater intelligence must have been behind it.
Lord Ainz's brilliance truly knew no bounds!
--
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Even physically out of the Tomb, I still seemingly get roped into the nonsense that goes on there.
"And I will be damned if I let that happen to you!"
Like having an overprotective sister who thinks I'll shatter like glass if I so much as scrape my knee.
Albedo has gotten very helicopter-parent like ever since I returned to Arwitnar following Shalltear's mind control incident. I mean objectively I know she has no idea I have the item used to control Shalltear in my inventory and therefore cannot have it used against me, but she doesn't know that, and I can hardly tell her. Way too many questions can be brought from that can of worms. Still doesn't make listening to her constantly calling me to come back any less annoying.
And she keeps calling me about what it feels like every other day.
She even tried to pull rank on me. Which I countered by telling her that Ainz specifically told me to be here, and therefore she has no authority to recall me.
I mean, I think that was his order. Eh…that's the story I'm sticking with.
But I have more important things to do right now than waste half an hour talking in circles with this succubus.
I hurriedly, and clunkily, moved to end the conversation, "Look, I'm sorry, but I do have important things to do today. I'll talk to you another time."
"We are-" I cut the connection and sighed. Wish she would just stop calling me already. Oh, I can already tell I'm going to hear an earful from her next time she contacts me.
But I wasn't lying when I said I have more important things to do.
Walking away from the manor study I had sequestered myself in, I quickly made my way back to my guest. Coming towards the hallway, it seemed she had moved on from admiring the weird looking crystal chandeliers to the suits of armor on display
"What is this stuff," Arche asked when she noticed I had returned from the 'bathroom', tapping her knuckle against a transmuted suit of armor. "I can tell it's not painted, so what is it?"
"Scarletite," I answered.
"I've never heard of it," the mage admired her own reflection in the polished crimson breastplate.
After about a month away, Team Foresight finally returned from their mission a few days ago. While hardly rushing over to see me, she did catch me when I was leisurely walking the streets yesterday. Kind of a 'small world' moment where she managed to find the exact place I was in a massive city. Still, we had some small talk and I invited her over to both to just hang out and to show off my home. She accepted, and here we are today.
"It's a type of metal called a prismatic ore," I continued, feeling more than a little smug showing off Yggdrasil stuff to a new worlder. "Higher quality, and rarer, that even adamantite. And your right about not seeing it anywhere else. Brought a chunk of this stuff to a mineral expert and he had no idea what it was. I guess it's not native here?"
"Like I said, I've never heard of anything like this. At least, none of the books I've read mention anything like this stuff," Arche hummed to herself. "I mean, there are experiments into mixing metals like mythril with more mundane ores to make something new, but mineralogy is hardly my subject of choice."
"You don't say".
"Wait," the mage tilted her head as she realized something. "If it's rarer than adamantine, how can you afford so many suits of armor?" She gestured to the six other suits of armor lining the walls.
"Well Arche…that's for me to know and you to guess about," cryptic, but it's easier to leave it as that then say, 'I used my video game powers to magic it into existence'.
"Don't worry, you keep your secrets," she rolled her eyes at my over overly cryptic words.
"So you want to sit down and have something to drink," I asked, gesturing to the living room.
"Yeah, that would be nice," Arche rubbed the back of her neck. "No offense, Lilly, but while these are beautifully made, I feel like they're watching me. Weird right?"
"Not really," I shrugged, leading her into the dining room.
"Why? Did you feel the same when you first got them?" She asked.
"What? Oh no. I meant, I don't think it's weird because they are watching you," I clarified.
"…eh?" Arche stopped mid step and blinked at my comment, then swung her head around to look at the suits again.
"Yep," I smiled looking at the arrayed suits. "Take two steps forward."
Before Arche could question me further, the suits stepped off their small platforms in perfect unison. The young mage looked startled by the suddenness of the motion and had the look of a deer caught in the oncoming headlights of a speeding car at the display. Her gaze shifted between me and the golems.
"Face me," I grinned. Yeah, I was showing off a bit, loving the look of surprise on her face as the suits turned in unison to me. "Kneel", I saw her mind going into overdrive as the golems fell to one knee before us.
"How did you get…I mean, why do you have them," Arche was at a loss for words by the display.
"Remember when I said that prismatic ores are used in magical processes," I reminded her, "well one of them is to create high quality golems."
"Golems…really?"
"That's the technical term at least," I shrugged. "Constructs created with magic, that about sums up what a golem is right?"
"Um...yeah," Arche gathered herself and cleared her throat. "That is the official definition. I'm just surprised how small they are. Most golems I've seen are far bulkier."
"Bulkier as in…"
"This hallway would be too small for them," Arche explained, gesturing with her arms. "Also, they tend to be made of more common materials like rock, iron, and wood. Not that they can't be made of other materials. Master Burkens texts on the matter say that…"
Oh I think these things excited her…
"….and sure they stand upright, walk on two legs , have two arms, and usually have an analogue to a head atop the torso but they're hardly human in appearance," she noted, her hands running along the helm of the sanguine knight. "But these? They move with the grace of a normal man…"
You know, for a girl that is a bit on the quiet side, she sure has a motor mouth when she really gets into something she likes. I don't think it's the golems themselves, but the magic behind them she's interested in.
"…and look how smooth the material is. I've never seen anything like it," she continued to gush about the suits of armor. I didn't think I did that good of a job. "And the soft curves, as if the plates were forged specifically for the frame."
"Are you still talking about the golem?" I coughed as I realized exactly what I just said.
"Hm? What else could I be talking about," Arche tilted her head.
Oh Arche, you sweet summer child. Being so innocent, I cannot help myself now. "I mean, you're talking about curves and slimness, and you look like you're about to salivate on the thing."
"As an magic scholar, amateur as I am, it-" Arche's explanation stopped dead in its tracks as a tinge of redness filled her cheeks. Oh, looks like she finally realized it. She pouted and shot me a glare, "very mature, Lilly."
"I don't know, you were the one sliding your hands down along the sides saying how 'smooth to the touch' it was and complimenting its curves. Was this a slip of the tongue Arche? Maybe you had something else on your mind? You are 'that' age when these things become prevalent." I just couldn't stop myself!
"You know exactly what I was talking about," her pout intensified yet she didn't elaborate further. Probably out of fear that I would twist her words into something far less 'mature' than she intends. She's right, of course. "And besides, you're about the same age as me. Perhaps you were the one whose mind was in the gutter?"
"If you say so," not commenting on her assessment. "Couldn't you just be projecting your deepest, darkest, desires without realizing it? It starts with words, but where does it end? Should I be scared to be alone with you Arche?"
"You ought to be if you keep at it," she pouted again, I had to hold back laughing as she tried to look upset.
As much as I would love to keep teasing her, I knew better than to push my luck…this time at least.
"Fine, I'll drop it," for now, "let me just get these guys back in place and you can get to that story you have about your last job." Waving to the golems, they returned to their original places, all in eerie unison. "Now you were saying that-"
"Forgive me My Lady," Mya walked towards us, shooting Arche a quick glare before turning her eyes to me. "But you have a supplicant at the door waiting to speak to you."
"Wait…waiting for me?" that threw me for a loop.
"Yes My Lady."
"And they asked for me? By name?"
"They did not, they merely wished to speak with the owner of this domicile," Mya corrected me.
The fact that I was asked for that very generic title means that this probably wasn't someone from Nazarick. But then who could it be? Eight Fingers? A stupid Eight Fingers then if their walking up to my sfront door and announcing themselves. By that token it could even be a city guard coming by to take a statement on the issue. Maybe someone from one of the shops whose inventory I pilfered with my transmuted gold? Maybe finally figuring out I hoodwinked them with copper coins?
Waving Arche to go to the living room ahead of me, I didn't really know what to expect as I strode to the front door.
But I can safely say that I didn't expect a purple haired woman with mismatching eyes and a monocle.
"Greetings, and good morning, madam," the woman gave an overexaggerated bow, "I am Sophie Noia, Head of the Chosen. Please pay no attention to the mages hiding behind the hedges to the left."
"Uhh yeah, good morning," well this is off to a quirky start. I arched my head out of the doorway to look where she mentioned. Sure enough, I saw the top of some hoods behind the bushes. "Can I help you with something?"
"That is a bit of a story," Sophia confessed. "See, my Master has been interested in having a meeting between him and yourself for some time. While he was waiting for you to approach him yourself, your reclusiveness has caused him to change tactics and thus he dispatched a number of his disciples, myself included, to find an appropriate moment to extend an invitation. However, I feel that my time is better spent in scholarly pursuits, so I decided to simply create the appropriate moment to provide you with an invitation."
"Okay…"
"Indeed," she either didn't care or didn't notice my indifference to her words. "All you need to do is present yourself to the Earth Guards at the Ministry of Magic at your earliest convenience, tell them the Arch Wizard is waiting for you, and they'll do the rest."
"Okay. Um…thank you," I didn't really know what else to say, who was this lady even talking about?
"It is no problem madam. And since my work is done, I bid you a good day," with another exaggerated bow, she turned on her heel and walked off. Her companions rushed from the bushes after her, no doubt giving her an earful for her breaking 'cover' I guess. I watched them until they turned the corner, still bickering with one another it seemed.
Hmm, kind of strange, but not the weirdest thing to ever happen to me.
I almost forgot about the whole exchange by the time I reached the living room.
"So, who was it?" Arche asked, her gloves laid beside her on the sofa, bare hands cradling a fine China looking cup of tea.
"I don't know," I shrugged, sitting across from her. "Some lady that is part of a group called 'the Chosen' or something. Said her teacher wanted to see me or something. Sounds like a cult to me."
"Wait," that got Arche's attention. "A person from The Chosen Thirty? Did she say what her name was?"
"Umm, I think it was something Noia? Sophia I think." I was a little surprised by Arche's sudden interest.
"You mean Sophie Noia," Arche corrected, her eyes grew wide.
"Yeah, that was her name. Know her?" I took a sip of the sweet drink laid out for me. Looks like they weren't a cult after all if Arche knew them. Or maybe they were, and Arche happened to know about them.
"Lilly," she looked at me in a mix of befuddlement and amazement, "The Chosen are the personal students of Master Paradyne. The strongest mage alive," she added the second part for my benefit as I was a foreigner. "Every one of the Chosen is at least a third-tier magic caster. Sophie is a fourth-tier caster, and one of the strongest mages in the Empire."
"Oh…"I commented. Though I will say I kind of remember a guy named Paradyne in the source material. "You seem to know a lot about them."
"I know a lot about them because…I used to be a member of the Chosen," Arche looked down at her drink. "I used to be one of Master Paradyne's students, until I… when my parents started to…"
"Until you needed to help your family with their financial situation," I finished her sentence.
"To keep them from going destitute and dragging my sisters with them, yes," she frowned for a moment at the mention of her parents. "I loved learning under him, I was even on track to become a fourth-tier caster but… My sisters need me more than I needed to learn. So I left."
Oh, now I remember him! Fluder Paradyne! The Empire's quisling.
"What could he want with me?" I thought aloud. All I can really remember about the character is that he sold out his own nation after he met Ainz and saw the skeleton's true power with his magical eye talent that shows a person's magical power based on sight alone.
…
Hmm.
I think I know how he 'found' me.
"I'd guess it was because your magical power is abnormal," Arche proposed.
"Abnormal," I parroted. That's right, Arche has the same talent as him. Wait…does that mean she can see how powerful I am, or how powerful I really am?
"Abnormal in the sense you have so much magical energy," she quickly corrected herself. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she put her hand in front of her eyes. "Looking at you with my talent is like looking at a light after being confined to darkness for hours, it burns my eyes. Kind of like a less intense aura than Master Paradyne's actually."
"Really? He has more mana than me?" So as powerful as I 'am'. I guess I should be glad that the suppression ring is working if a human can be seen as more powerful than me. Then again, it kind of makes sense why Arche overreacted when she first saw Ainz in the story if my fifth-tier magical signature is enough to bother her.
"Magical energy," Arche corrected, "different from mana, and yes, he is. Master Paradyne's aura is akin to looking into the sun with your bare eyes, so bright and overpowering that it'll make you blind if you stare for too long."
You haven't seen anything yet Arche….
"And me?"
"Like I said, less intense than Master Paradyne, but still painful without preparing myself," taking a deep breath, she slowly moved her hand away from her eyes. Her eyes glowed a cerulean blue. She squinted immediately, and I could almost see her pupils dilate. "It's actually how I was able to find you the other day."
"Really?"
"Yeah," she nodded, her eyes a tad more open. "Your signature is so unique that I can pick it out across the city. Beyond Master Fluder's, yours is the only one I've ever been able to differentiate on sight alone."
"So you're saying I'm special?" For whatever reason I just loved hearing someone comment how powerful I was, even if they were only seeing half of what I was truly capable of.
"Yeah, I guess so," she took another sip of her drink. "So, when are you going to go see him?"
While I was going to give a flat, 'I'm not' the thought occurred to me.
One of the reasons for the Empire's vassalization to Ainz's kingdom was thanks to the efforts of Fluder who saw Ainz's power and just swore fealty to him on the spot. Given I have an equally ridiculous pool of mana and capable of tenth-tier magic, wouldn't he give me the same reverence if I took off my suppression ring next to him?
Granted, I can hardly just walk over, kick down the door, take off the ring, and go 'bow, I am your God now!'. Not just because I think that's a little weird, but I ugh…
"I…I don't know where he is," I sheepishly noted. Before I could say anything else, like ask for directions, I saw Arche had her eyes fully open now. Her talent enhanced sight seemingly adjusted to my reduced magical power. I stared transfixed at their color.
The blue glow was mesmerizing…
"Most days he's the Ministry of Magic's main building," Arche told me. Blinking, she cut off the talent and stood up. Smiling, she offered me her hand, "come on, I'll take you there. I know from experience that Master Paradyne doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Before I could even reply, I was led out of my own home by Arche. With her hand clasped around my own as we fast walked down the busy mid-day streets, I couldn't help but feel like this was going to be a long day for more than one reason.
--
--
"What a mess", Morrice Lowton sighed, looking over the recent letter from the Executive Committee. Raced into the city by the fastest courier service the Eight Fingers had control of. It was marked as urgent.
"How bad sir?" Gramm commented at his superior's distress. "Like how burning down bad?"
"Worse," sighing, he handed the message to Gramm for him to see what he meant. Morrice's day had been going so well until now. But this letter made his stomach turn and his blood run cold.
In response to their own failings, the Committee was now demanding greater revenue shares from their foreign branches in such a short timeframe that it was completely impossible to meet.
The cause? The adventurer group Blue Rose just took down another couple black dust plantations, meaning the Eight Finger's coffers were going to take a sizable hit in potential profits. It was the same across the board in Re-Estize thanks to the Princess's reforms. Weapons sales down, need for hired muscle down, debtors being sold into slavery racking in a fraction of their debt's value, it seemed like the only damn thing that still made a continuous profit was gambling and prostitution.
But how in the Gods name did they assume he gathered a sum five times that of his branch's annual revenue as the monthly amount they wanted from now on? It was ludicrous!
And it wasn't as if he had a choice in the matter. When the Manager of the Roble branch replied to this dictate with a strongly worded message detailing how Committee's demands were outrageous, they responded by sending the Six Limbs to 'deal' with him. The freaks tore through Roble's Branch's security and tortured the Manager to death in front of the survivors.
So no, Morrice does not have a means to counter these insane demands. It wasn't solely a monetary issue, his branch was the most solvent of all Eight Fingers operations by far, but a manpower one.
Suppose he did turn his back on the Committee, raise his 'banner' in defiance, strike out on his own, then what? Line up his own, merger, forces against the full might of the Eight Fingers? Across the Empire, he had only about eighty or so men he could rely upon to stay loyal to him if such a conflict were to break out. Granted he's been funneling the best equipment to them for quite some time, and he has men with potent Talents like Gramm by his side, but eighty against the hundreds are not odds he likes.
He also lacked the funds for any sort of prolonged conflict. True, his manpower shortage could be alleviated by purchasing the services of every worker in the Empire to act as a meat shield between himself and the Committee. And it could work….until he ran out of money to pay them, where the workers would then fight amongst themselves for the privilege of turning him over to the Eight Fingers themselves.
Maybe he would have all the funds he would ever need if his plans with that gold making girl came to fruition. He had some of his men shadow her and that worker friend of hers for a while, found out where she lived, but his plans didn't get any further than that. When his men started reporting that she was also being tailed by imperial agents he called off all observations and washed his hands of the kid. He may be greedy, but he's not stupid. The girl caught the eye of someone at court, probably a mage who wanted her to join the Ministry. Kidnapping someone with that kind of attention was bound to paint a target on his back.
So here he was: either stay loyal to the Committee and be strung up when he eventually can't meet their insane monthly quotas, or rebel and get strung up anyway when his meager forces collapse in the face of the tender mercies of the Six Limbs.
"Sir, they can't seriously think that this is workable," Gramm questioned, having finished reading the missive.
"I'm afraid they're deadly serious," Morrice nervously laughed at his own play on words.
"If that's the case, remind the men that I'll triple whatever they offer them," Morrice sighed as he cleaned his glasses. "There is very little I wouldn't give to keep my head firmly on my shoulders."
"Well then I have quite the proposition for you…"
"What-" Morrice jolted in his seat at the sudden appearance of an unknown voice.
As if appearing within the blink of an eye, someone was standing before him. There was no sound, no movement, he just appeared there. At first glance, they looked like a man, even dressed like one. Look being the keyword however, since even discounting the pointed ears and abnormal height, he knew no civilized race that had a metallic tail.
"What the-" Gramm glared at the creature, quickly placing himself between Morrice and the intruder.
"I apologize for any immediate distress I may have caused," the figure commented, spoken with an air of affable politeness, even the mask on his face unsettled Morrice to no end. "But I couldn't help but overhear your problematic situation."
"How the hell did you get in here?" Gramm ignored the pleasantries. "Hey Boys! Get in here already!"
A tiny voice in Morrice's mind whispered that his guards were probably dead if the…man was in here with them, perhaps the halls of his home were running red already. But low and behold, moments after Gramm's call, guards flooded into Morrice's office one after another. They seemed just as confused as Gramm and Morrice at the sight of the intruder. They surrounded the figure, weapons drawn, gawking at the overall strangeness of the intruder in much the same way he and Gramm had moments ago.
"The fuck is this freak doing here?" One of his men thought aloud, his blade tip centimeters from the figure's orange attire. "How'd he get in?"
"I simply entered through the front entrance," the intruder glibly replied, lolling his gaze over to the speaker. "It is hardly my fault I so completely evaded your detection when your security precautions are so pathetic."
"Pathetic!?"
"Indeed," the figure shook his head, "but your own ineptitude is hardly the issue at hand." He returned his gaze to Morrice, "instead, I would like to focus on your problems."
"You break into my home and expect to sit down and have a chat with me?" Morrice tried to hide his inner concern, hands slowly moving under his desk to a magic wand enchanted to hold several spells of the third tier. An expensive bubble that he hoped he'd never have to use in an actual capacity. He's only used it twice, both occasions to see if the wand still worked from lack of use.
"In simple terms, yes. Though no need to bring over a chair on my behalf, I prefer to stand," the metallic tail swished back and forth.
"You think you're funny?" Gramm growled at the intruder, gesturing for the men to apprehend their 'guest'. "We got a place for clowns like you, the breaking wheel."
"I would like to think I have an above average sense of humor," the man chuckled to himself as the men closed in around him. "And I would recommend against this course of action, for your own sake," the demi-human commented as a guard grabbed him by the shoulder, though his tone was still far too relaxed for one in his situation.
"Really think you're in any position to make-"
CRUNCH
Morrice blinked as he felt a gust of wind blow against him and something red splatter across his face and glasses. Taking off his glasses with a surreal sense of calm, he noticed a cloud of sanguine vita now hung where a dozen men once stood.
And there was blood everywhere….
The walls, the furniture, the windows, everything was caked in a fine layer of gore. His men were little more than pieces of flesh and bone, some pieces still held together by the thinnest of strings of meat, surrounding the figure whose attire was clean of even the smallest drop of viscera.
Of the men from before, only Gramm was miraculously still alive after whatever that was. Slumped over against a wall wheezing, trying to hold his chest closed with his bare hands in a vain effort to keep his innards in place.
"Oh? Would you look at that," the man- creature commented looking at Gramm, his voice sounding genuine for the first time since this…interaction began. "Not only did you survive my strike, but you even managed to make me feel some slight discomfort in my wrist, momentary as it might be," wringing the offending hand to emphasize the point. "But how? Not magic. No enchanted items besides the ones below the desk, no potions, no…ah! I see now. You have one of those Talents I've heard so much about? Some kind of dynamokinesis or kinetic redirection. You didn't hurt me, you redirected some of my blow back into me and in turn softened the blow against yourself. It must work automatically, since there is no possibility your reflexes were fast enough. Do I have the gist of it?"
Gramm spat at the creature as his gore-soaked form slid to the ground, still wheezing as blood filled his lung.
"Now don't be like that," the creature chastised. "I mean all of this as a compliment. Truly, congratulations are in order, as you are the first human in this world to have harmed me. Granted it was my own strength reflecting back upon me, and it was the merest hint of discomfort than actual harm, but one should hardly nitpick over details. Indeed, such deeds deserve a reward, wouldn't you say?" The demon reached into some kind of portal that seemingly appeared to his side and poured the contents of a small vial of sanguine liquid onto Gramm's blooded chest. "That should suffice. Now where was I? Oh yes, my proposition!"
Morrice looked on as Gramm's chest knitted itself back together before his very eyes. It took him only a moment to realize what the vial held, as Gramm seemingly returned to normal from the brink of death. "God's Blood? How does a demon like you have something like that?"
"Is that what you call it?" It was amused. "Moving back to the topic at hand, I wanted to discuss with you a solution to your 'committee' issues."
"We have nothing to speak of demon," Morrice's heart was threatening to burst inside his chest from fear.
"Your Executive Committee will be powerless by the end of the month," the creature brusquely cut off Morrice.
"I'm sorry?" Did he hear that right?
"Assuming they aren't killed," the demon continued. "Given the power vacuum that will form, with Roble's branch already decimated and the theocracy's branch barely existing as a solvent entity, you would be the single most powerful member of the Eight Fingers by process of elimination. In such a void, all the power would be yours, you'd only need to reach out and take it when the time comes. With my assistance of course, provided you are willing to work with me."
"I- What?" Morrice was at a loss for words. What was this creature, this demon, talking about?
"Goodness, where are my manners? I have yet to properly introduce myself," the demon took an over exaggerated bow, the kinds Morrice would see in a mummers performance. "You may call me Jaldabaoth, and as I said before, I have a proposition for you."
Without waiting for him to reply, the demon began to speak at length of his plan, of the sheer scale of his machinations as if Morrice had already agreed.
What choice did he reasonably have? Voice his refusal and become a part of the new coat of paint on the wall?
Yet as the minutes ticked by and more of the creature's plans came to light, Morrice started to feel lightheaded. It was…monstrous. Horrid. Evil.
"-but I will handle those specifics. Simply stick to your part, and I promise you shall be rewarded beyond your imagination; everything I promised and more. So, what do you think? Do we have a deal?" As the demon finished saying his piece, Morrice could only imagine the demon's facial expression mirrored that on his mask: a sinister smile that foreshadowed greater horrors just beyond the horizon.
What choice did he have?
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AN: So we have Demiurge Demiurge-ing (Sasuga Ainz-Sama!), Citrinitas getting roped into the Empire's side of the story with a spare Arche, and the demon Jaldaboath making his first appearance to those poor innocent Eight Fingers!
Overall I think a good chapter to set the next arc into motion!
And yes, in case anyone caught it, Sophie Noia is a character from Mass of the Dead (The Overlord gatcha game). Interesting character design so I thought, why not!
Zowo
A picture paints a thousand words, good and bad
Poor girl, mister glasses is going "according to plan" and all she and Skeletor sparkles edition can do is go "Yes. As all according to the great machinations. This world shall be feeding from thy palm as we pull the strings (f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k)"
- Location
- USA
I disliked the original Overlord from the first few chapters due to the MC's mind being corrupted by Ainz to not properly try to fix this place. I'm hoping that our MC won't do the same, since she seems to be slightly more grounded in the local society than I vaguely remember Ainz being.
Hopefully Citrinitas eventually goes her own way and learns more about the world first-hand; I look forward to seeing the worldbuilding through a story I actually enjoy
Hopefully Citrinitas eventually goes her own way and learns more about the world first-hand; I look forward to seeing the worldbuilding through a story I actually enjoy
pingas plight
-Most cunning scientific fuck-up in all of Mobius
Oh for the love of god please don't let shalltear get jealous over this shit and murderize Arche.
Well, he sure fits the role of the cynical control freak from Atlas games.
- Location
- In a Fantasy
There is no way she will risk her wraith , though I expect her to think some unkind things for a while.
Midas_Man
One of the Brightest Stars
I disliked the original Overlord from the first few chapters due to the MC's mind being corrupted by Ainz to not properly try to fix this place. I'm hoping that our MC won't do the same, since she seems to be slightly more grounded in the local society than I vaguely remember Ainz being.
Hopefully Citrinitas eventually goes her own way and learns more about the world first-hand; I look forward to seeing the worldbuilding through a story I actually enjoy
Thanks for the support!
There is nothing to worry about between Shalltear getting super jealous or anything.
Afterall, what's wrong with having a nice family pet?
Also, since I have no idea where else to put this, a sneak peek at "Adventurer Shalltear" who shows up as part of Ainz-sama's master plan for Arwintar (sasuga Ainz-sama!)
Interlude - Divine Introspection
Midas_Man
One of the Brightest Stars
A little interlude to tide you over for the next chapter proper and to advance some world building at the same time!
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As dawn broke, Kami Miyako was in a state of mourning.
The night previous His Holiness, Pontiff Maximus Castrum the Second, passed away in his sleep. While hardly a surprise, being a venerable one hundred and two, his death spurned mass displays of mourning and lamentations across the Slane Theocracy. Most stores had closed their doors for the day and even offensives against the Elf Kingdom were put on hold just so the people could properly pay their respects to the vicar of the faithful.
But, from the grief and sadness, a spark of light. The College of Cardinals was set to convene the following day to anoint a new Pontiff Maximus, the most likely of the candidates being the former Pontiff's own grandson, Castylan Pra Ai Epoc.
One could even say the vote was already decided and the electoral mechanisms simply needed to catch up with reality.
And yet…
"His Holiness will see you now," a pontiff guard gestured for the Captain to follow him deep into the inner sanctum of the Gods' Basilica.
For Castylan Pra Ai Epoc was not some unknown young man thrust into the light as the most probable successor to the late Castrum the Second, but the very same Pontiff the masses of the Theocracy were mourning. While understanding the reason behind the deception His Holiness was doing, even agreeing with it, he still lamented the need for such theatrics to deceive the faithful.
If only they lived in a world where the existence of godkin need not be hidden from the masses. But in His Holiness's own words, "how would the rest of the world react to an ageless ruler?" Illusions masked Castrum's lack of aging, actors played his role when he assumed the guise of his 'grandson', and soon this song and dance would be over and the governing of the Theocracy would hardly change.
Reaching His Holiness's private study the guard lightly knocked on the door, waited several seconds, then opened and gestured for the Captain to come inside.
Rather than dripping with the opulence one might find in the royal courts of Re-Estize or the Empire, His Holiness's office was rather small and austere for one of his rank and pedigree.
At the far end of the study, beyond musky old tomes, papers detailing all manners of civil and military matters, magical lamps that hummed with a soft light, sat a still living Castrum the Second. Though the Captain supposed the title will be Castrum the Third after tomorrow. He was taking over for his 'grandfather' after all.
Regardless of titles, the man of one hundred and twenty-one didn't look a day over thirty. Pale blue hair framed his almost glowing sapphire like eyes, giving His Holiness an almost angelic look. Garbed in simple white-blue robes, the only real display of wealth on his person were his multitude of rings. Nearly all were deceptively simple in appearance, being little more than thin bands of exotic metals, yet each hummed with potent magical energy.
The only exception to this was His Holiness's Pontiff Signet Ring, a silver ring with the crest of the Theocracy imprinted upon a sapphire in white. Unlike the others, the Captain did know what it did. For it, and its twenty-one sister rings, were the 'keys' that allowed one access to the Gods' Inner Sanctum; a holy place where the Gods themselves ruled the Theocracy when they still walked among humanity.
Even without such rings though, His Holiness was powerful enough.
While still a far cry from Zesshi's strength, if she was Certain Death then His Holiness was Divine Wrath. In his youth, when he was a member of the Black Scripture, he fought the Coffin Dragon Lord twice, both times wounding the creature to such an extent it was forced to withdraw. His command of divine magic was beyond comparison. So much so that he was capable of utilizing magic of the seventh tier with little difficulty. Angels responded to his beck and call,and he could cast such resplendent light that hordes of night wraiths would crumble before his radiance.
Fitting for a godkin descendant of Alah Alaf, the God of Life and avatar of Light.
"Your Holiness," The Captain knelt before him, "you summoned me?"
"A little formal, don't you think? After all, I haven't even been coronated yet," Castylan chuckled at the Captain's deference, gesturing for him to rise. "I could lose the election tomorrow."
"As you say, Your Holiness," it was hard to keep the smile off his lips at the theatrics of it all.
"Now, as much as I would love to say I summoned you to subject you to my horrid attempts at humor, I am afraid the topic at hand is far from lighthearted." Castrum beckoned the Captain forward. "What can you tell me about the vampire you fought, this 'Shall Tear', that caused the tip of the Theocracy's spear, the Black Scripture, to retreat?"
"Your Holiness?" The question confused the young man. "Is my report lacking in sufficient detail?"
"Oh no," he brushed off the Captain's concern. "I don't doubt the validity or accuracy of your report, I just want to hear about the encounter in a more casual manner."
While he still didn't understand the purpose of this, he obeyed. "To begin with, and with all due respect, the vampire's name is pronounced as Shalltear, Your Eminence. And as for the fight, it was hardly a battle as much as it was a slaughter." He grimaced as he recalled the encounter. "We engaged some of her familiars at first, drawing her to our location. Seeing an opportunity to secure a powerful weapon for the Theocracy, I ordered Lady Kaire to use Downfall of Castle and Country upon the creature. We failed, Shalltear killed the Eighth and Ninth Seats, and mortally wounded Lady Karie before the mind control could be fully set. It was my decision to pull back… which led to us losing Downfall of Castle and Country later to the masked woman."
"Horrible business," His Holiness tsked at the loss of such a powerful artifact. "On the matter of the masked woman, you may be pleased to hear that I have tasked the Clearwater Scripture to make discovering her location their top priority."
"If I may be so bold-"
"The search has yielded nothing as of yet," Castylan interrupted to answer the Captain's question. "Given the magical means in which she secured the relic we have no way of knowing where the artifact now is, let alone where she is. I have no doubt we shall pick up her trail soon enough, either from her actions or sloppiness on her part. Rest assured, you will have a chance to take your revenge against the masked woman… so long as she is taken into custody by the end of it."
"Yes, Your Holiness," despite his assurances, the Captain wasn't certain he would even be capable of bringing that woman in alive. More likely she kill herself if capture was unavoidable simply to spite her would-be captors.
Regardless of her capture and… usefulness to the Theocracy, the power of Downfall of Castle and Country was too dangerous to have beyond their means. Forget about controlling dangerous creatures, the Gods only know how much damage that woman could cause were she to ensnare the Bloody Emperor into her thrall or the devastation she may wrought if the Elf King became her puppet.
"But the masked woman was not the reason I summoned you," Castylan brought the conversation back to the topic at hand. "Regarding the vampire, did any of your team have the impression that she was one of a larger coven? Or did the masked woman give any indication that there were dark creatures in the nearby woods?"
"No, Your Holiness," he shook his head. "Beyond the vampire, her familiars, and the horde of wraiths the masked woman summoned, there was nothing out of the ordinary in those woods."
Castylan was silent for a moment, then sighed, "A pity then."
"Your Holiness?" the Captain asked in confusion. Was the fact there was nothing else dangerous in the woods was an issue?
Pinching the ridge of his nose, Castylan fished out a folder from the depths of his drawer. "Tell me, are you familiar with an adventurer team called Darkness?"
"I-No, Your Holiness," the Captain replied, curious about the sudden pivot. He never paid much mind to the workings of the Adventurer's Guild beyond the knowledge of the strongest Adamantine ranked teams.
"They're quite the interesting team," Castylan continued, sliding a packet to the young Black Scripture Captain. "Have a gander, it's an enlightening read."
"I'm afraid I don't understand, Your Holiness," the Captain accepted the packet and flipped through the document regardless of his skepticism of the point of it all. Skimming the papers, the two things that immediately stood out were their rank, adamantine, and their team's size, two people.
"They are an Adamantine team consisting of two adventures," the Pontiff summarized aloud. "The leader being a man named Momon, styling himself as the Dark Warrior, with his assistant being a woman known as Nabe," he watched the Captain read through the packet, suddenly much more interested in the packet regarding such a highly ranked team he had just now heard about. "As noted in these documents procured by our agents in the Guild, they are the newest adamantine ranked group active in Re-Estize. Quite the prodigal rise, considering they only started their careers a month ago."
"A month?" the Captain questioned the speed aloud, skimming through the known achievements of the group: exterminating a horde of ogres, taming the Wise King of the Forest, stopping the Zurrernorn attack on E-Rathel, a list of exotic and dangerous creatures they have slain that seemed too ridiculous to be believed.
"Read the second to last achievement on the creatures list," was all His Holiness replied to the Captain's outburst.
Flipping the page, he came across the line: Slayed the she-vampire Honyopenyoko in the region of E-Rathel.
He could hardly hold in his scowl at the mention of a vampire near-
Wait…
He checked the date to make sure he wasn't jumping to conclusions. It matched his team's battle with Shalltear.
"There was another one?"
"The Clearwater Scripture's initial findings lean towards no," His Holiness raised his hand to cut off the Captain's train of thought. "As far as their investigation shows there was only one vampire in those woods, the one you and Black Scripture fought and fled from: the beast Shalltear."
A vampire in the same area as the one he fought and took on the entire Black Scripture. It's physical description, according to the Guild report filled out by Darkness, was that of a small woman with pale features, white hair, red eyes, and dark clothing, mirroring that of Shalltear's appearance after she had been rendered passive following the failed use of Downfall of Castle and Country.
There was also a small note just below the confirmation which stated that while the beast had been slain, no physical evidence could be provided as she 'turned to dust and blew away into the wind' after being killed.
It didn't take long for the Captain to put the pieces together.
"They're in league with one another," it was the only reasonable conclusion he could reach. "Either Darkness was so incompetent they failed to notice the other vampire in the area they fought in, or, as we are in agreement with, there is no other vampire. Honyopenyoko and Shalltear are one in the same, and this adventurer team is in league with a dreadfully dark creature."
While there could be another explanation, the more he thought about it the more holes the Captain found in the whole endeavor from the adventuring team.
Perhaps the incomplete use of Castle and Country rendered the beast passive and it did not defend itself when Darkness attacked.
But then how was one adventurer not a member of team Darkness who confronted it with them killed? To hog all the glory for themselves and make the battle seem more impressive?
But then why not bring the vampire's remains back with them, either as a trophy or as something to sell to a magical research group for additional money?
Nothing added up.
"Could you do it?" The Pontiff questioned, "Given a month, could you perform a similar collection of feats?"
"Are you saying that these two are godkin?" Even if they were godkin, how could they succeed where the entire Black Sculpture, armed with divine weapons, failed?
"Maybe," the Pontiff expressed his own uncertainty. "While every indication points to yes, we need a… second opinion on the matter. You will confront this pair and make a final analysis one way or the other."
"Your Holiness?" Did he hear that right?
"Do not look at me as if I've grown a second head," Castrum waved off the Captain's expression. "Go to him with some of the Black Scripture and ascertain the validity of these claims of strength by any means necessary. Challenge them to a duel, approach them as fans, aspiring adventurers, workers, whatever you need to get close and see his strength first hand. This is to be your task."
"Is this not a task better suited for the Clearwater Scripture?" They were the primary intelligence gathering organization of the Theocracy. While the Thousand Leagues Astrologer was capable of far greater feats of intelligence gathering, as she was but a single person she lacked the sheer versatility that came from a dedicated organization. Where she had depth, they had breadth.
"At the moment, they are spread too thin. In the time it takes for them to appropriately investigate the matter it may be too late to do anything," Castylan rubbed his temple in frustration. "Besides, the adventurers are hardly hiding themselves. The Dark Warrior is quite the boastful one, always exalting his own achievements at every opportunity. From the currently seen path of towns Darkness has been sighted in, their path is inevitably set towards Re-Estize itself. Barring any sudden changes, you shall go there and await their arrival. If they do make a sudden change, I have little doubt you'll hear about it in the taverns before you are sent a missive about it."
"You're Holiness, I… If Darkness is working in league with the masked woman and the vampire, would I not be at risk of being… compromised?" The Captain felt a shiver go down his back at the implication of being turned into a puppet to be used against the Theocracy.
The Pontiff smirked, "I would hardly dispatch you had we not the means to counter Downfall of Castle and Country," pulling out a small ornate box from beside his desk, he flicked open the latch to show what it held. A brilliant broach with a gemstone of unknown origin, the colors constantly changing before his eyes like water and oil mixing together. His Holiness tapped the gem, "this will protect you from the artifact's mind control effects."
"What is it?" He leaned in to examine the gemstone, amazed something- anything really, could shield one from the mind controlling effects of the godly relic while staring at the almost hypnotic hue of colors in the stone itself.
"Kaleidoscopic Prism, another holy relic from the Gods meant to protect the wearer from the effects of such relics like Downfall of Castle and Country," Castylan answered. Closing the box, he pushed it towards the Captain. "With this on your person, the artifact will hold no sway over you. It also has some more passive beneficial effects on the wearer, but they are of little consequence compared to safeguarding your mind."
With parting words exchanged, the Captain soon exited the Pontiff's study, ornate box in hand. He would have to figure out who would be accompanying him to Re-Estize, decide what their story if pressed would be, contingencies for possible conflict with potential godkin and more.
It was as the Pontiff said, there was much work to be done.
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Castylan sighed as the young man left.
Events are progressing at a disconcerting pace.
First the Sunlight Scripture disappears after encountering an unknown magic caster around a backwater village near E-Rathel, then two adventurers show up in E-Rathel and have the single most meteoric rise in rank in the Adventurer Guild's history, with said raise being predicated on the death of a vampire that could drive off a godkin and the Black Scripture in a forest near E-Rathel, and a masked woman with powerful black magic intercepts said retreating Scripture and steals Downfall of Castle and Country.
And beyond these new threats were the more mundane issues to contend with.
The beastmen invasion of the Dragon Kingdom, that bulwark that the rest of the civilized world seemed all too happy to forget about.
The succession crisis in the Roble.
Re-Estize's inevitable collapse, either to be subsumed into the Empire or break into a dozen squabbling domains as the stress of the Bloody Emperor's annual wars finally saps the kingdom of its last bits of strength.
And to make matters even worse, it was about that time again.
When their kind appears to further throw the world into chaos.
Sighing, Castylan stood up and fiddled with his signet ring. Too fast. Things were simply moving too fast.
This meant he would have to move equally fast. He had to investigate these mysterious and powerful figures who have seemingly appeared from a puff of thin air, shore up the Dragon Kingdom with more aid to ward of the beastmen, end this wasteful war with the Elf Kingdom to free up more military forces, move pieces and agents around the courts of Roble to keep the Holy Kingdom from ripping itself apart, and come up with contingencies for when Re-Estize does collapse.
All the while with the added pressure of them appearing to pour fuel onto a dozen smaller flames.
The true enemy of the Gods and mankind.
The entities known as Players.
According to the Sealed Epochs, written by the God of Death Surshana himself before his death, they are beings who originate from a realm beyond mortal means to travel to. A realm only the Gods themselves were privy to. A place beyond reach, yet endlessly traversed by beings who played in an endless series of wars and slaughter with one another with gleeful abandon.
They are beings of pure chaos, with moral alignments alien to most mortal minds.
One need to look no further than the Eight Greed Kings to see the danger wrought by Players in the world, killing the last of the Gods, exterminating the vast majority of non-human races, building up a new civilization, bringing the world to heel, expanding the use of tier magic beyond the bounds of what even the Great Gods had done, all before turning on one another in a petty display of greed and violence that destroyed everything they built. Their magnum opus, Eryuentiu, little more than a monument to their vanity and delusions of grandeur.
There was so much to do, and now more than ever did he feel the weight of time bear down on him. But he will endure. If not him, if not one with the God of Life's blood coursing through his veins, then who?
In the end, there was no sacrifice that was too great, no treachery too small, in the pursuit of protecting mankind from evil.
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AN
You hear that dear reader? That soft clicking you heard all chapter? Merely Chekov's gun, getting a few in the chamber ready for the (hopefully) satisfying payoff in the no too distant future.
Come to think of it, with the Black Scripture Captain seeing if Momon is sus or not, he might just make it to Re-Estize in time for the "Demon Emperor's" Invasion. And if Shaltear is off helpingher wife Citrinitas with her thing in Arwintar. hmmmmm.
As for Castylan's strength. I'd say he's physically the weakest godkin, but the strongest caster (think lvl 60 or so). He can cast powerful magic thanks in part to his divine heritage, divine artifacts from his progenitor,and bullshit cash shop items.
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As dawn broke, Kami Miyako was in a state of mourning.
The night previous His Holiness, Pontiff Maximus Castrum the Second, passed away in his sleep. While hardly a surprise, being a venerable one hundred and two, his death spurned mass displays of mourning and lamentations across the Slane Theocracy. Most stores had closed their doors for the day and even offensives against the Elf Kingdom were put on hold just so the people could properly pay their respects to the vicar of the faithful.
But, from the grief and sadness, a spark of light. The College of Cardinals was set to convene the following day to anoint a new Pontiff Maximus, the most likely of the candidates being the former Pontiff's own grandson, Castylan Pra Ai Epoc.
One could even say the vote was already decided and the electoral mechanisms simply needed to catch up with reality.
And yet…
"His Holiness will see you now," a pontiff guard gestured for the Captain to follow him deep into the inner sanctum of the Gods' Basilica.
For Castylan Pra Ai Epoc was not some unknown young man thrust into the light as the most probable successor to the late Castrum the Second, but the very same Pontiff the masses of the Theocracy were mourning. While understanding the reason behind the deception His Holiness was doing, even agreeing with it, he still lamented the need for such theatrics to deceive the faithful.
If only they lived in a world where the existence of godkin need not be hidden from the masses. But in His Holiness's own words, "how would the rest of the world react to an ageless ruler?" Illusions masked Castrum's lack of aging, actors played his role when he assumed the guise of his 'grandson', and soon this song and dance would be over and the governing of the Theocracy would hardly change.
Reaching His Holiness's private study the guard lightly knocked on the door, waited several seconds, then opened and gestured for the Captain to come inside.
Rather than dripping with the opulence one might find in the royal courts of Re-Estize or the Empire, His Holiness's office was rather small and austere for one of his rank and pedigree.
At the far end of the study, beyond musky old tomes, papers detailing all manners of civil and military matters, magical lamps that hummed with a soft light, sat a still living Castrum the Second. Though the Captain supposed the title will be Castrum the Third after tomorrow. He was taking over for his 'grandfather' after all.
Regardless of titles, the man of one hundred and twenty-one didn't look a day over thirty. Pale blue hair framed his almost glowing sapphire like eyes, giving His Holiness an almost angelic look. Garbed in simple white-blue robes, the only real display of wealth on his person were his multitude of rings. Nearly all were deceptively simple in appearance, being little more than thin bands of exotic metals, yet each hummed with potent magical energy.
The only exception to this was His Holiness's Pontiff Signet Ring, a silver ring with the crest of the Theocracy imprinted upon a sapphire in white. Unlike the others, the Captain did know what it did. For it, and its twenty-one sister rings, were the 'keys' that allowed one access to the Gods' Inner Sanctum; a holy place where the Gods themselves ruled the Theocracy when they still walked among humanity.
Even without such rings though, His Holiness was powerful enough.
While still a far cry from Zesshi's strength, if she was Certain Death then His Holiness was Divine Wrath. In his youth, when he was a member of the Black Scripture, he fought the Coffin Dragon Lord twice, both times wounding the creature to such an extent it was forced to withdraw. His command of divine magic was beyond comparison. So much so that he was capable of utilizing magic of the seventh tier with little difficulty. Angels responded to his beck and call,and he could cast such resplendent light that hordes of night wraiths would crumble before his radiance.
Fitting for a godkin descendant of Alah Alaf, the God of Life and avatar of Light.
"Your Holiness," The Captain knelt before him, "you summoned me?"
"A little formal, don't you think? After all, I haven't even been coronated yet," Castylan chuckled at the Captain's deference, gesturing for him to rise. "I could lose the election tomorrow."
"As you say, Your Holiness," it was hard to keep the smile off his lips at the theatrics of it all.
"Now, as much as I would love to say I summoned you to subject you to my horrid attempts at humor, I am afraid the topic at hand is far from lighthearted." Castrum beckoned the Captain forward. "What can you tell me about the vampire you fought, this 'Shall Tear', that caused the tip of the Theocracy's spear, the Black Scripture, to retreat?"
"Your Holiness?" The question confused the young man. "Is my report lacking in sufficient detail?"
"Oh no," he brushed off the Captain's concern. "I don't doubt the validity or accuracy of your report, I just want to hear about the encounter in a more casual manner."
While he still didn't understand the purpose of this, he obeyed. "To begin with, and with all due respect, the vampire's name is pronounced as Shalltear, Your Eminence. And as for the fight, it was hardly a battle as much as it was a slaughter." He grimaced as he recalled the encounter. "We engaged some of her familiars at first, drawing her to our location. Seeing an opportunity to secure a powerful weapon for the Theocracy, I ordered Lady Kaire to use Downfall of Castle and Country upon the creature. We failed, Shalltear killed the Eighth and Ninth Seats, and mortally wounded Lady Karie before the mind control could be fully set. It was my decision to pull back… which led to us losing Downfall of Castle and Country later to the masked woman."
"Horrible business," His Holiness tsked at the loss of such a powerful artifact. "On the matter of the masked woman, you may be pleased to hear that I have tasked the Clearwater Scripture to make discovering her location their top priority."
"If I may be so bold-"
"The search has yielded nothing as of yet," Castylan interrupted to answer the Captain's question. "Given the magical means in which she secured the relic we have no way of knowing where the artifact now is, let alone where she is. I have no doubt we shall pick up her trail soon enough, either from her actions or sloppiness on her part. Rest assured, you will have a chance to take your revenge against the masked woman… so long as she is taken into custody by the end of it."
"Yes, Your Holiness," despite his assurances, the Captain wasn't certain he would even be capable of bringing that woman in alive. More likely she kill herself if capture was unavoidable simply to spite her would-be captors.
Regardless of her capture and… usefulness to the Theocracy, the power of Downfall of Castle and Country was too dangerous to have beyond their means. Forget about controlling dangerous creatures, the Gods only know how much damage that woman could cause were she to ensnare the Bloody Emperor into her thrall or the devastation she may wrought if the Elf King became her puppet.
"But the masked woman was not the reason I summoned you," Castylan brought the conversation back to the topic at hand. "Regarding the vampire, did any of your team have the impression that she was one of a larger coven? Or did the masked woman give any indication that there were dark creatures in the nearby woods?"
"No, Your Holiness," he shook his head. "Beyond the vampire, her familiars, and the horde of wraiths the masked woman summoned, there was nothing out of the ordinary in those woods."
Castylan was silent for a moment, then sighed, "A pity then."
"Your Holiness?" the Captain asked in confusion. Was the fact there was nothing else dangerous in the woods was an issue?
Pinching the ridge of his nose, Castylan fished out a folder from the depths of his drawer. "Tell me, are you familiar with an adventurer team called Darkness?"
"I-No, Your Holiness," the Captain replied, curious about the sudden pivot. He never paid much mind to the workings of the Adventurer's Guild beyond the knowledge of the strongest Adamantine ranked teams.
"They're quite the interesting team," Castylan continued, sliding a packet to the young Black Scripture Captain. "Have a gander, it's an enlightening read."
"I'm afraid I don't understand, Your Holiness," the Captain accepted the packet and flipped through the document regardless of his skepticism of the point of it all. Skimming the papers, the two things that immediately stood out were their rank, adamantine, and their team's size, two people.
"They are an Adamantine team consisting of two adventures," the Pontiff summarized aloud. "The leader being a man named Momon, styling himself as the Dark Warrior, with his assistant being a woman known as Nabe," he watched the Captain read through the packet, suddenly much more interested in the packet regarding such a highly ranked team he had just now heard about. "As noted in these documents procured by our agents in the Guild, they are the newest adamantine ranked group active in Re-Estize. Quite the prodigal rise, considering they only started their careers a month ago."
"A month?" the Captain questioned the speed aloud, skimming through the known achievements of the group: exterminating a horde of ogres, taming the Wise King of the Forest, stopping the Zurrernorn attack on E-Rathel, a list of exotic and dangerous creatures they have slain that seemed too ridiculous to be believed.
"Read the second to last achievement on the creatures list," was all His Holiness replied to the Captain's outburst.
Flipping the page, he came across the line: Slayed the she-vampire Honyopenyoko in the region of E-Rathel.
He could hardly hold in his scowl at the mention of a vampire near-
Wait…
He checked the date to make sure he wasn't jumping to conclusions. It matched his team's battle with Shalltear.
"There was another one?"
"The Clearwater Scripture's initial findings lean towards no," His Holiness raised his hand to cut off the Captain's train of thought. "As far as their investigation shows there was only one vampire in those woods, the one you and Black Scripture fought and fled from: the beast Shalltear."
A vampire in the same area as the one he fought and took on the entire Black Scripture. It's physical description, according to the Guild report filled out by Darkness, was that of a small woman with pale features, white hair, red eyes, and dark clothing, mirroring that of Shalltear's appearance after she had been rendered passive following the failed use of Downfall of Castle and Country.
There was also a small note just below the confirmation which stated that while the beast had been slain, no physical evidence could be provided as she 'turned to dust and blew away into the wind' after being killed.
It didn't take long for the Captain to put the pieces together.
"They're in league with one another," it was the only reasonable conclusion he could reach. "Either Darkness was so incompetent they failed to notice the other vampire in the area they fought in, or, as we are in agreement with, there is no other vampire. Honyopenyoko and Shalltear are one in the same, and this adventurer team is in league with a dreadfully dark creature."
While there could be another explanation, the more he thought about it the more holes the Captain found in the whole endeavor from the adventuring team.
Perhaps the incomplete use of Castle and Country rendered the beast passive and it did not defend itself when Darkness attacked.
But then how was one adventurer not a member of team Darkness who confronted it with them killed? To hog all the glory for themselves and make the battle seem more impressive?
But then why not bring the vampire's remains back with them, either as a trophy or as something to sell to a magical research group for additional money?
Nothing added up.
"Could you do it?" The Pontiff questioned, "Given a month, could you perform a similar collection of feats?"
"Are you saying that these two are godkin?" Even if they were godkin, how could they succeed where the entire Black Sculpture, armed with divine weapons, failed?
"Maybe," the Pontiff expressed his own uncertainty. "While every indication points to yes, we need a… second opinion on the matter. You will confront this pair and make a final analysis one way or the other."
"Your Holiness?" Did he hear that right?
"Do not look at me as if I've grown a second head," Castrum waved off the Captain's expression. "Go to him with some of the Black Scripture and ascertain the validity of these claims of strength by any means necessary. Challenge them to a duel, approach them as fans, aspiring adventurers, workers, whatever you need to get close and see his strength first hand. This is to be your task."
"Is this not a task better suited for the Clearwater Scripture?" They were the primary intelligence gathering organization of the Theocracy. While the Thousand Leagues Astrologer was capable of far greater feats of intelligence gathering, as she was but a single person she lacked the sheer versatility that came from a dedicated organization. Where she had depth, they had breadth.
"At the moment, they are spread too thin. In the time it takes for them to appropriately investigate the matter it may be too late to do anything," Castylan rubbed his temple in frustration. "Besides, the adventurers are hardly hiding themselves. The Dark Warrior is quite the boastful one, always exalting his own achievements at every opportunity. From the currently seen path of towns Darkness has been sighted in, their path is inevitably set towards Re-Estize itself. Barring any sudden changes, you shall go there and await their arrival. If they do make a sudden change, I have little doubt you'll hear about it in the taverns before you are sent a missive about it."
"You're Holiness, I… If Darkness is working in league with the masked woman and the vampire, would I not be at risk of being… compromised?" The Captain felt a shiver go down his back at the implication of being turned into a puppet to be used against the Theocracy.
The Pontiff smirked, "I would hardly dispatch you had we not the means to counter Downfall of Castle and Country," pulling out a small ornate box from beside his desk, he flicked open the latch to show what it held. A brilliant broach with a gemstone of unknown origin, the colors constantly changing before his eyes like water and oil mixing together. His Holiness tapped the gem, "this will protect you from the artifact's mind control effects."
"What is it?" He leaned in to examine the gemstone, amazed something- anything really, could shield one from the mind controlling effects of the godly relic while staring at the almost hypnotic hue of colors in the stone itself.
"Kaleidoscopic Prism, another holy relic from the Gods meant to protect the wearer from the effects of such relics like Downfall of Castle and Country," Castylan answered. Closing the box, he pushed it towards the Captain. "With this on your person, the artifact will hold no sway over you. It also has some more passive beneficial effects on the wearer, but they are of little consequence compared to safeguarding your mind."
With parting words exchanged, the Captain soon exited the Pontiff's study, ornate box in hand. He would have to figure out who would be accompanying him to Re-Estize, decide what their story if pressed would be, contingencies for possible conflict with potential godkin and more.
It was as the Pontiff said, there was much work to be done.
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Castylan sighed as the young man left.
Events are progressing at a disconcerting pace.
First the Sunlight Scripture disappears after encountering an unknown magic caster around a backwater village near E-Rathel, then two adventurers show up in E-Rathel and have the single most meteoric rise in rank in the Adventurer Guild's history, with said raise being predicated on the death of a vampire that could drive off a godkin and the Black Scripture in a forest near E-Rathel, and a masked woman with powerful black magic intercepts said retreating Scripture and steals Downfall of Castle and Country.
And beyond these new threats were the more mundane issues to contend with.
The beastmen invasion of the Dragon Kingdom, that bulwark that the rest of the civilized world seemed all too happy to forget about.
The succession crisis in the Roble.
Re-Estize's inevitable collapse, either to be subsumed into the Empire or break into a dozen squabbling domains as the stress of the Bloody Emperor's annual wars finally saps the kingdom of its last bits of strength.
And to make matters even worse, it was about that time again.
When their kind appears to further throw the world into chaos.
Sighing, Castylan stood up and fiddled with his signet ring. Too fast. Things were simply moving too fast.
This meant he would have to move equally fast. He had to investigate these mysterious and powerful figures who have seemingly appeared from a puff of thin air, shore up the Dragon Kingdom with more aid to ward of the beastmen, end this wasteful war with the Elf Kingdom to free up more military forces, move pieces and agents around the courts of Roble to keep the Holy Kingdom from ripping itself apart, and come up with contingencies for when Re-Estize does collapse.
All the while with the added pressure of them appearing to pour fuel onto a dozen smaller flames.
The true enemy of the Gods and mankind.
The entities known as Players.
According to the Sealed Epochs, written by the God of Death Surshana himself before his death, they are beings who originate from a realm beyond mortal means to travel to. A realm only the Gods themselves were privy to. A place beyond reach, yet endlessly traversed by beings who played in an endless series of wars and slaughter with one another with gleeful abandon.
They are beings of pure chaos, with moral alignments alien to most mortal minds.
One need to look no further than the Eight Greed Kings to see the danger wrought by Players in the world, killing the last of the Gods, exterminating the vast majority of non-human races, building up a new civilization, bringing the world to heel, expanding the use of tier magic beyond the bounds of what even the Great Gods had done, all before turning on one another in a petty display of greed and violence that destroyed everything they built. Their magnum opus, Eryuentiu, little more than a monument to their vanity and delusions of grandeur.
There was so much to do, and now more than ever did he feel the weight of time bear down on him. But he will endure. If not him, if not one with the God of Life's blood coursing through his veins, then who?
In the end, there was no sacrifice that was too great, no treachery too small, in the pursuit of protecting mankind from evil.
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AN
You hear that dear reader? That soft clicking you heard all chapter? Merely Chekov's gun, getting a few in the chamber ready for the (hopefully) satisfying payoff in the no too distant future.
Come to think of it, with the Black Scripture Captain seeing if Momon is sus or not, he might just make it to Re-Estize in time for the "Demon Emperor's" Invasion. And if Shaltear is off helping
As for Castylan's strength. I'd say he's physically the weakest godkin, but the strongest caster (think lvl 60 or so). He can cast powerful magic thanks in part to his divine heritage, divine artifacts from his progenitor,
- Location
- In a Fantasy
Our girl needs to steal some from Ainz , she deserves it from making them so much stuff and getting that insulting name (vending machine)
Chapter 15 - All According to Plan (?)
Midas_Man
One of the Brightest Stars
The Ministry of Magic was a lot closer to where I lived then I thought it would be, just a twenty-minute walk from my home. As expected of a government building, it was swarming with guards of both the mundane and fantastical. Mostly knights atop griffins and hippogriffs from above, and a collection of very colorful knights on foot.
"Royal Earth Guard," Arche commented, noticing my eyes on the cream gold-colored troops with their crimson red capes. "Elite knights that report directly to the Emperor."
"Is that armor enchanted," Something did seem different about these guys as opposed to the usual imperial knights, like I could feel a 'hum' of magic coming off them. A hum so quiet I could barely hear it.
"Yes," she nodded, "each suit has some of the most powerful enchantments the Ministry of Magic can provide. With them, the armor weighs barely anything and it can deflect armor piercing attacks."
"Did you learn about them during your time there?"
"Not as much as I would have liked," Arche sighed, "I had to…leave before we got properly into enchantments."
As expected, a knight immediately picked us out and addressed us. "Halt, what is your buissness with the Ministry?"
I have to say, The pair of knights main looked a bit gaudy in their gold and cream-colored plate armor. Maybe that was the point? To stand out I mean. The red capes were nice enough.
"My friend is here to see Master Paradyne," Arche spoke for me. "One of the Chosen came to her home earlier and said he wished to meet her."
"Master Paradyne, you say?" The guard looked at Arche, then to me, then glanced over to his companion who nodded. "Wait here, I shall send word to his lordship of your arrival."
We didn't have to wait long. A pair of cream-colored knights emerged from the building with an elderly man in tow.
"Greeting, young lady," his voice was old and wizen, with a long beard and wrinkles all across his face. In short, a stereotypical wizard. "I had been hoping to meet with you for some time now."
"So I've heard," I let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of my head. "I never thought I would ever meet you like this." Or ever.
"Indeed, though if I may ask, they said you were invited by one of my own students?"
"Yeah."
The man sighed, "it was Miss Noia wasn't it?"
"…yeah."
"I should have known. Though I should probably thank her for- Miss Furt?" Paradyne stopped his congratulations when he looked to my side to see Arche. "Miss Furt is that you?"
The wizard's sudden attention made Arche shrink into herself. "Y-yes sir," she stuttered.
"My goodness Miss Furt where have you been?" he questioned the former student. While he sounded curt, his tone was more akin to that of a teacher scolding their students. Given the situation, or more arcuately Arche's former situation, that's probably not a far-off assumption.
"I've been…busy," she wringed her fingers out and refused to meet his gaze, her eyes directed to the ground. Despite her reaction, I didn't get the impression that she was scared or that the two had parted on bad terms. In fact, it seemed like the old wizard was genuinely happy to see her, if annoyed about something.
"Busy? Miss Furt, I looked high and low for you for months after you left," the wizard explained. "I even paid your home a visit, but they had no knowledge of where you were."
"To be fair, they don't really know where I am most of the time," she tried to joke, not that it deterred Fluder from his probing questions.
"Miss Furt, you left the dormitories without a word in the dead of night. Some thought you had been abducted. The Earth Guard searched the grounds for the better part of the day before concluding you had left of your own volition."
"…I left a note that explained everything."
"A hastily written letter of several intertwined apologies hardly explains everything Miss Furt," Paradyne sighed. "If this is about your family's worsening financial situation I would have been more than willing to have such fees waived so you could continue your education. Few have the potential to join my disciples and I would rather not see such talent go to waste."
"I know sir," Arche mumbled, meeting his gaze for the briefest of moments, before looking away. "I know, but there was more…more than just my financial issues that made me leave. I'm sorry sir, but I'd rather not talk about this in…public." She eyed the gilded guards.
The elderly mage sighed, realizing he wasn't going to get anything else from her for now, "very well, but I expect a proper explanation as your circumstances when we meet again. And we will meet again in the near future Miss Furt. Am I clear?"
"Yes sir I understand," she nodded, then looked up to me with a reassuring smile. "And I should be leaving now. Good luck with whatever happens, Lilly."
"Thanks," as we parted ways, I walked beside the elderly man into the Ministry building.
"So, what did you want to talk about?"
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After leading me down a maze-like labyrinth of sublevels and basements, he directed me into a laboratory-like morgue with a single tarp-covered table at the center. Even so deep underground, magical lights lit everything.
Pulling the tarp aside, Fluder revealed a dreadfully pale corpse with black ooze pooling in small cuts across the body. The after effects of my [Black Blood] spell were obvious enough.
Oh fuck…
"Do you recognize this man?" He questioned, not accusatory but still very to the point.
How should I put this…
"Are asking if I know him, or that I remember doing …this to him?" I questioned back, my head already trying to run through all the possible things I could say that would not end up with me in a prison cell. Not that I was afraid of being incarcerated, I could either teleport out or
"There's no need to be defensive, I hardly brought you to my laboratory to simply have you arrested in some overcomplicated ploy for you to admit guilt over killing some vagrant," Fluder waved off my perceived concerns. "He could have been a prince and I would still not care. No, I'm far more preoccupied with understanding how you killed him."
"Never seen anything like it before then?" Okay, I can salvage this.
"More its application than the act itself," he clarified. "Few curses tend to leave a corpse so devoid of unaltered flesh. If I had to guess, I would say it was rapid transmutation of his blood into a corrosive like substance that eventually led to death. Am I correct, or am I looking at this from the wrong angle?
So he just wants to…talk shop? "Y-our right, it did change him like that, it's a spell called [Black Blood]," I have no idea if that's what Black Blood actually does.
"[Black Blood]," he mulled over the name, "apt as names go. And the spell itself, would I be wrong to assume it is of the third tier?"
"Yeah, how did you-"
"When you live as long as I have, you start to pick up things such as transmutation. I might be mistaken, but it looks as if a rapid transmutation occurs on a biological level beyond…" and he was off! He just kept talking and talking about magical formulas and catalysts and other stuff I had no idea about.
I just smiled, nodded, and offered the occasional input as this elderly man went on to fanboy over my work. Occasionally looking over to the clock to watch the hands slowly, but surely, tick by.
Ten minutes.
Twenty.
Thirty.
An Hour.
And he just kept talking.
But his rabid questioning and talking about magic did remind me what his role in the 'story' was. That's right, he betrayed the Empire to Ainz since to him Ainz was some kind of magic god who could teach him about magic. Not sure how that played out in the story given that Ainz has no idea how his magic works on a mechanical level beyond just knowing how to cast it. Not that I was any better, maybe even worse off since I didn't even know what spells I 'knew'.
Speaking of betrayal, is it even betrayal when the Empire eventually vassalized itself to Ainz's Sorcerer Kingdom? Retroactively, his actions would be seen as 'loyal' in such a case. Still-
Wait.
He betrayed the Empire because he thought Ainzs was some magic god thanks to his talent. What was it he said again, it's been years since I actually saw the source material. 'Peering off into the abyss' or something?
Still, the whole experience made him super loyal to Ainz, or loyal enough to go behind the Emperor's back and lead to the Worker invasion….
Foresight…and Arche…die in.
Does that have to happen again?
I am here with him, presumably, before Ainz ever stepped foot in the Empire.
And I do have a very powerful magical aura myself…I think.
Level ninety should at least be powerful enough to get his attention and, if I am lucky, poison the well a bit in regards to Nazarick. Or even start to build up my own little powerbase beyond Nazarick.
Inferior at would be in terms of objective power.
Maybe if I showed him my true power, he would listen to me instead of Ainz.
"Excuse me, just a quick question. Arche said you have the same talent as she does?" nice Segway. Smooth as a jackknife through traffic. "Is it true?"
He got himself out of 'lecture mode', a book in hand, and chuckled to himself. "Yes we share the same talent, [All Seeing Eyes], which allows users to observe the magical potential of other beings. Why, she say something about it beyond me sharing the same talent?"
"Well, when she used her talent on me, she said she could barely look at me since my 'aura' was too bright,"
"Oh, she told you that, did she?" Again, chuckling to himself, I saw his own eyes start to glow an ethereal blue just as Arche's did with her ability turned on. Yet unlike her, Fluder didn't even look fazed by my 'powerful aura'. "Easy to see why, your power is formidable indeed. It's how I found you to begin with."
"So, the greatest you've ever seen?"
"Not the greatest, no," he shook his head. "There is one other whose aura far outshines yours."
Wait, really?
"Yours is Still powerful though," he continued. "Prodigal even. A once in a century level of potential. You will go down in history young lady, that much I promise you."
Ah there's the praise I needed for my ego.
"Actually," I fiddle with the ring concealing my powers, "speaking of power, there is something I want to show you."
"Oh?" he looked intrigued. "Some powerful spell. Fourth….no fifth tier perhaps? It must be something quite impressive to be so circumspect about it."
I started to slide the ring off my finger, "more like something beyond your-"
"Apologies for the intrusion Master Paradyne," the door to the laboratory swung open and a woman in full armor walked in with a polearm somehow attached to her back. Long blonde hair covered half her face, her one exposed eye locked onto me before going to Fluder. "The Emperor has requested your presence."
Did I just get conspiracy cock blocked?
"What rotten timing," I heard the wizard mumbled under his breath before addressing the knight. "Very well, Lady Rockbruise. Give me a few moments to say my farewells to my college here and we can be off."
"Of course, Master Paradyne," while the knight was talking to the old man, I couldn't help but feel her one exposed eye stuck on me.
I heard the old man sigh, "matters of state can be so tiresome. I feel this summons will take up the entirety of my day. I apologize for the suddenness of our parting. We must continue our discussion soon, I have no doubt we can expand much on the transmutation of organic components if we were to pool our work together," he reassured me.
Wait…that's what he was talking about to me when I was thinking of how to subvert him before Ainz could subvert him?
I followed Fluder out, but the knight stopped me at the door, "apologies miss…"
"Lilly," finished for her.
"Miss Lilly then," she corrected herself.
"Is there a problem with my guest, Lady Rockbruise?" I heard Fluder ask.
"None Master Paradyne, I just want to ask her something while I have the chance," she replied.
Realization shone across Fluder's face, "ah…it's about that then?"
"Yes."
Wait what?
"Then you don't need to worry about escorting me, I'm more than capable of reaching his majesty on my own. And good day Miss Lilith," wait Lilith? Where did he get that- oh right, Lilly Lilith. Okay I can see how he reached that conclusion. "I see this as the beginning of a productive working relationship between us."
"Apologies for keeping you ma'am," the knight started, "but I need your help with lifting a curse."
"A curse?" what… "Is it…killing you or something?"
"No," she shook her head. "A curse that has plagued me for years and marred my face beyond decency." Rockbruise touched the part of her face concealed by hair, "it's so repulsive that I've had to cover the entire side of my face to keep others from feeling…uncomfortable in my presence."
"So it's just a skin condition?"
"Worse," she pulled her hair aside to show me.
She must be overreacting. How bad can some skin thing possibly be…
What the fuck is wrong with her face!
"That sort of reaction is common the first time people see it," she commented on my expression of disgust, putting her hair back down to block it and wiping some of the puss off her gauntlet. "As you can guess, I am eager to be free of this curse. Being a caster who uses curses, it stands to reason you know how to break them. Or am I mistaken?"
Now under normal circumstances, I would have explained to her that casting and curing curses are two very different things. Like how a knight knows how to swing a sword, but they might not know how to make one from scratch. Mostly because I didn't want to get involved with all this 'stuff'.
But then I got an idea.
This woman is one of the Emperor's guards right? Someone who will probably be by his side and, more importantly, hear what he hears. Like, a completely random example, say a hither unknown tomb being discovered? Maybe the first word of an attack on a certain Kingdom's capital city?
It would at least give me an idea of the timetable I have to work around. Granted I could probably just ask Demiurge and he'd start gushing about how 'amazing Ainz's plan' was. But I want to have an ear to the door of what the other side is talking about.
And if I couldn't get Fluder now, I could at least ingratiate myself to one of the emperor's guards.
"I'd be happy to help," I put on the best smile my face can muster, hoping the thing didn't look as fake as it felt. "When are you free?"
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Rockbruise knocked on my door at noon the following day, as previously agreed upon. She wasn't wearing her imperial knight armor. Merely a simple, yet undeniably well made, tunic and trousers with a simple short sword at her side. Pretty sure the blade was enchanted in some way, but nothing that worried me.
And by knocking on my door at noon, I mean the exact moment the clock struck twelve. Given that she had also been standing outside my home for the better part of an hour before that, it's safe for me to assume she is very eager to see if I can cure her.
Of course, given that I have tons of Yggdrasil stuff, this is a matter of 'how' not 'can' I fix her. Game stuff is borderline godly to these people, I'm certain I have something or other that can help her.
"So how did you even get that anyway," I started with some small talk as the knight was led into a makeshift lab made out of a spare guest room since I was hardly going to use my real lab for this. Sitting the woman down in a chair, Mya and Eva could barely look at the woman, their faces scrunching up in disgust as she pulled her hair back so all could see her condition.
"I was cursed, I told you the other day," Rockbruise softly replied. She relaxed in her seat, accepting an offered towel by Mya to clean up the puss drippling down her face.
Glad I did not eat before this.
"I was thinking more about specifics," I clarified, my chair rolling across the room to the desk where I had a bunch of 'stuff' laid out. No idea what most of it was, beyond the potions I laid out the other day, but it looked pretty 'official' if I say so. "Why? When? How? That sort of stuff."
"Is that really important?"
"Well, curses are very annoying to deal with and more annoying to cure," I explained. Afterall I have to make it look like I didn't have a [Minor Curse Curse] Potion on my desk ready to go. "Annoying because they can be caused by either one thing or several things together.
Rock Bruise was quiet for a moment, then sighed, "it was during a mission with the Adventurers Guild. I killed a creature, some hunched over hag thing, never got the name of it, and it cursed me with its dying breath. When I returned home, my family threw me onto the streets the moment they caught sight of my marred face. I was cut off from my family, and my betrothed refused to marry a 'hideous' woman like me, and all my former acquaintances treated me like a leper from that day on."
"Betrothed?" Why was that the one part of it I was surprised by?
"I was…I am a noblewoman," the knight corrected herself. "My parents disowned me the day I came home with this," she gestured to her face, "but the emperor reinstated me when I joined the Imperial Knights. But back on topic, do you want me to describe the creature?"
"Hmmm, I don't think so," It's not important anyway. "Excuse my curiosity, but how are they doing now? Your parents and former betrothed I mean," I only realized how bad my attempt at small talk was after I asked the question.
"Dispossessed and dead," she said as if commenting on the weather, "the first of three boons I asked of the emperor when I entered his service."
"Ah," that's charming, still 'looking' for the right thing for her. "So, what are the other two things you asked for?"
"One other thing, my parents and former betrothed were each a boon to themselves," she corrected me. "The third boon is what I am here for, a cure to my curse."
"You think I can cure it?"
"To be honest, I doubt anything will come of this," she bluntly admitted. "If Fluder Paradyne cannot cure me, what chances does a girl like you have?"
"Then why ask for my help at all if you think it's pointless," I don't know why, but being told I couldn't do something was a tad more aggravating than I thought it would be. Even knowing full well I am far beyond the likes of someone like Fluder.
"Because I am that desperate," was all she said on the matter. "I've chased after soothsayers, herbalists, healers, priests, anyone and anything that is rumored to even possibly cure curses. I refuse to let even a single chance slip through my fingers, no matter how slim the odds are."
"Right," At least she's honest?
Well, I think I have done enough small talk for now. I grab the potion first lined up on my desk, a simple [Minor Health Potion]. Maybe this curse is just some illness that can be 'healed' away.
"Drink this," I roll my chair over to her and hand her the small vial. She looked at the contents in inquisitive interest, moving the vial a bit to see the sanguine liquid swish about. "It's not blood if that's what you're-"
She drank the whole thing in a single sip, handing the empty vial back to me. "It wouldn't have mattered if it was."
"So," I gave a sideways glance to the pus ridden scar still on her face, "feel anything?"
She blinked, looking to the mirror then patting herself, "the bruise on my side seems to be gone. But other than that, nothing."
"Well, it's a good thing we still have some more stuff to try," I give her a good-natured laugh as she gives me a blank expression.
Eh, everyone's a critic.
Next in the line, a vial of [Minor Cure Disease]. "Try this one."
Unlike before, the knight did not hesitate in drinking the potion. Downing the contents, she shook her head a minute later.
No changes.
Hmmm. So, it is an actual curse.
"Right, third time's the charm," I go for the final potion laid out: [Minor Dispel Curse]. Why something like this is in liquid form, I can only guess. Probably Players with no magic and no magic casters around.
With a dull expression, she downs this vial as easily as the others. If this doesn't work, I'll just start casting spells since I refuse to believe there is not a spell that can get rid of something as minor as disgusting skin.
And I want my IN with the imperial court!
Seconds passed and nothing happened.
Another dud. Who knew Yggdrasil stuff would be so-
Rockbruise let out a pained gasp and hunched over in her chair. Puss dripped from the patch of skin as she covered her face, the skin itself hissing as if it was being burnt off by an unseen force. I couldn't see what was going on since she clapped her hand atop her skin, but I think I found a potion that was working.
She sat hunched over for a good minute, until the burning sound stopped.
She quickly examined herself in the mirror.
"Another…" she whispered.
"I'm sorry-"
Her arm slammed down on the desk, "give me another one of those potions now!" She pointed to her face, "whatever you gave me, it is the first time anything has ever affected the curse. Anything."
I reflexively grabbed a normal [Dispel Curse] potion from my item box. I have no idea how much stronger this is from the 'minor' variant, but it'll probably do something at least. She snatched it out of my hand, not even asking where the phial had come from (or how it appeared in my hand), and drank it to the last drop.
Just as before, it took seconds before she groaned in pain. The hissing sound of flesh burning returned. Grabbing the towel from before, she pressed it against the cursed skin to catch all the fluids starting to drip down her face. Unlike the minor variant, the normal dispel curse potion went on for longer.
So long in fact that I spied a stray golem silently poking its head through the doorway to see what all the noise was about. I gave the suit a 'shoo' motion for it to go back to looking like decoration.
As with before, the hissing and pained breathing eventually stopped.
Dropping the now yellow towel, she reached for the small mirror. Gasping in shock, she dropped the thing on the floor.
Walking over, I see what startled her.
Her face was scarred. Horribly scarred. Lines of red flesh wove through her skin like vines. Bits looked burnt as if cauterized by an open flame. It was a mess.
And yet there was no sign of the curse on her skin. These burned lines of dead skin looked more akin to a poorly healed wound compared to whatever the hell she was dealing with before was. Not a single drip of puss to be seen.
"It's….it's really…I…", Her bare fingers tentatively touched her scarred flesh, marveling at the change and tearing up at the sight. She looked like someone just told her she was going to survive a deadly disease.
While it looked far better than before, it could still be better. And I knew just the thing.
I grabbed another Minor Health Potion from the item box when she wasn't looking.
After all, scars were something that could heal.
-------
-------
Emperor Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix, the Bloody Emperor, was at a loss for words at the disaster before him.
"Gods Leinas, look at you!"
The whole situation was simply a disaster.
"I never thought I would see the day, Lady Rockbruise."
Leinas Rockbruise returned from her little jaunt with the girl Fluder was all worked up about. Rather than the solemn woman who left his court that very morning, she returned with almost a second wind to herself. Her posture straighter, her eyes more filled with life, even her step seemed to seemed to have more surety to it.
But most of all, her hair was pulled back, showing smooth, unmarred skin, on both sides of her face. The string used to tie her hair down to keep her cursed skin hidden, now used to show her unobstructed face to the world.
"Thank you," she thanked the congratulations coming in from her fellow Imperial Knights. "I can hardly believe it myself."
Jircniv had only let Leinas go seek out that girl's magical help because he believed it would be ultimately futile. If Fluder Paradyne couldn't cure a curse, then what were the odds some random mage could do it?
More importantly, this new turn of events meant that the woman's loyalty was no longer guaranteed. True, Leinas had always been up front with him about the transactional nature of their relationship. She would serve him so long as he did all in his power to search for a cure for her. For years he fulfilled his word to the letter, alerting her to every possible cure for her condition that came to his attention with her in turn serving him dutifully as one of his Imperial Knights. None ever worked, thus ensuring her loyalty to him. Again, transactional as it was.
But now that she was cured, and not by his hand but by some foreigner, what little loyalty that was there was thrown into serious question.
He wanted to kick himself for being so careless. Nothing Baziwood reported indicated the girl was anything out of the ordinary, beyond that magical power Fluder kept hemming and hawing about.
She was nothing more than a high-born girl, either running away from home or on some foreign tour, that was magically gifted and horrible at pretending she was not of noble birth. While hardly the keenest eye for courtly matters or fine intrigue, he trusted Baziwood to have done his best due diligence before reporting back to him. If he didn't see anything worthy of concern, there was nothing to be concerned about.
Except there was.
Leianis told a fanciful tale of a manor filled with magical oddities, foreign trinkets, miraculous potions, and small vials of Gods Blood. Or more specifically, Fluder concluding that the small vials of red potion must have been the mythical substance known as Gods Blood.
And that last one truly interested him. While there was every possibility this girl was like so many of the parasitic nobles of the Kingdom or his own Empire, wasting valuables on a whim, some gut feeling told him that was not the case. That such miraculous potions were simply common enough to use flippantly or even that the land the girl originated from could afford to waste such miraculous elixirs on such minor matters.
He hardly believed the wives tales that the vials held the actual blood of gods in them, but the art of creating such potions had been lost for ages.
So the world thought.
Somewhere they were being made, that much was clear now, even if in small numbers. Even thick-headed as he was in magical matters, he could feel the storm such a discovery would bring once the word got out.
"It's strange to walk around like this," Rockbruise admitted amidst the praise and congratulations that continued to flow to her as Jircniv mused to himself. "I doubt fate or divine providence led me to find Lady Lilith, none the less I am beyond grateful for what she has done for me."
Lady Lilith? Earlier that day, Rockbruise had referred to her only as 'that girl'.
"Forgive me, your Majesty," Rockbruise's voice broke Jircniv from his thoughts, the knight knelt before him. "I apologize for my brusqueness, but I must request a leave of absence from your service."
And here it begins, he expected as much the moment she walked through his doors unmarred by her curse. The only thing keeping her in his service was the hope of one day finding a cure for her affliction. Now that it was gone, there was nothing truly keeping her to his service.
And after that, then what?
How long until that girl left with Leinas in tow? How long until Leinas told said girl all the secrets she had accumulated about Empire in her years of serving him? How long until some foreign nation had knowledge of the inner workings of his Empire and used that to gain leverage over them?
There were so many variables at play it made him almost dizzy to think about them.
"So, you're basically going to rub it in your parents face right?"
"There are simply things I wish to do that I was unable to do for years on end," she did not deny Peshmel's jab. "Rest assured, I will return to service before the Gala begins. But after that, I am unsure of what I will do."
Ah yes, the Gala. A yearly event where he hosts the most important people from across the Empire in Arwintar and announces the start of the buildup for the Annual War with Re-Estize. A proclamation that is made loudly, repeatedly, and so clearly that even the Kingdom's dimwitted spy network could put two and two together.
While all he has to do is move a legion or two towards the Katze Plains, the Kingdom has to go through the messy song and dance of rising levies from the various feudal domains of the nation. Given that it will soon be the harvest season, and so many men will be on the march, food output will drop across the Kingdom before even the first arrow is loosed upon the battlefield. A consequence of conscripting most of the nation's farmers and not having a standing army.
Every year fewer and fewer farmers returned to their fields, and soon enough famine would eventually grip the Kingdom. The starving masses will start to rip the nation apart shortly thereafter. Corrupt and bloated as it already was, Re-Estize was barely holding together before the stress of his Annual Conflicts. Add in some famine, and their putrid order will come crashing down under its own weight.
By the time the nobles even realize what he's doing, it'll already be too late.
Yet a thought occurred to him.
That's it!
"Loune," Jircniv called his personal scribe to his side.
"You're majesty?"
"Have an invitation to the Gala sent to this, Lady Lilith," Jircniv instructed his manservant.
"Oh, have an interest in her yourself now?" Fluder commented.
"Worried about being replaced?" Jircniv jokes, hiding the apprehension he felt for Leanis's imminent defection to a foreign national's service . "If she can perform magical feats even you can't do, maybe she ought to be my Court Mage."
The man huffed, "it would give me more time for my research, your majesty. Though she is somewhat young for the position."
Jircniv rolled his eyes at Fluder's reply. He never could get a rye out of the old man. Almost made him wish for the return of those sycophants at court who squirmed at the slightest hint of being replaced.
Almost.
Still, it was more than simple curiosity that moved him to invite this magic caster to the Gala. The invitation, or her attendance, served to advance three goals of his own.
First, it allowed him to ascertain the goals of this girl for himself. While he trusted Fluder's assessment of her magical prowess, with Leanis's miraculous recovery only adding credence to it, he needed to gather some information on her. Where was she from, what is that state's stance on the Empire, what was her stance on the Empire. In short, he wanted to know if this was simple naive altruism for its own sake, or the start of an insidious attempt to subvert members of his court.
Her age, regardless of what it may truly be, was hardly a limiting factor on ambition. Jircniv himself was only twelve when he successfully assumed his throne and started his purges.
Second, he could start forming the first line of communication with her homeland and the Empire. Even if it was nothing more than a single city in the middle of a desert with no natural resources of value, he could still gain the recipe for Gods Blood from them, either through mutual agreement or more stubble means.
And finally, if she was amenable, or malleable to his wishes, he would see if she was willing to take part in the Annual War itself in one form or another. He could think of a few ways curses and black magic could be used to accelerate his timetable for the collapse of Re-Estize.
For years he's tried to get Fluder to use his necromancy on the battlefield, to swarm the field with undead in such numbers they would bury the living. To his dismay, the old man refused outright. Something about it being 'too much of a bother'.
Not that his refusal changed his timeline for the Kingdom's collapse. Ten years, fifteen at most, until it fell apart. Assuming that despicable princess didn't somehow wring out some hitherto unseen reforms that makes everything he has been working towards irrelevant.
But the odds of that were, at the moment, so small he could hardly consider them realistic.
The Kingdom will fall.
It was merely a matter of when, not if.
Ah yes, he felt a smile curl on his lips as the last bits of his plan fell into place. He watched his knights talk amongst themselves and his scribe rushing out to fulfill his orders from atop his throne.
Everything seemed to be coming along nicely.
-----
-----
"Send in the next one," Morrice Lotwon gestured for Gramm to get the door as the next worker waited to enter.
The current room was a tad smaller than what he was used to working with, there was hardly enough space for anything. Yet cramped as he was, he could never bring himself to step foot in his old office again.
He could still smell the blood, see it even, no matter how much the servants cleaned the room.
He finished up the bottle of wine he had been working on since that morning as his other men moved the next chest into place by his desk.
Hmmm, a fine vintage from a better time, he mused.
Led into the office was Erya Uzruth, the samurai leader of the worker team Tenmu. Though team was a strong word, give the other three members were his slaves. Still, with accomplishments that varied from suppressing a slave revolt in Sumerfurst, pushing back a warheard of beastmen that pushed deep into he Dragon Kingdom, to several commendations from the foreign office for deeds done against the Re-Estize Kingdom, he was more than competent regardless of his lack of 'true' teammates.
Why Morrice would wager that compared to his small security detail, maybe Gramm included, there wouldn't be any way to beat this man should he decide to kill them. The closed confines of this room certainly benefited the worker who specialized in speed.
And yet…
Shadows shifted in the furthest, darkest, corners of the office. The darkness bends and gives way to an even more umbral presence. If he hadn't watched those things skitter in earlier, he would have never thought anything was off.
How fortunate that he had such a generous…partner to send Morrice a powerful 'protector' after he effortlessly slaughtered a rank of his guards.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice. I have a job suitable for someone with your skills," the words were almost ingrained into his skull by this point. Repetition had its uses he supposed.
"My skills?" Eyra chuckled at Morrice's choice of words. "Which ones would those be, since I'm not exactly in the habit of working for scurrying criminals who are afraid of being stepped on by the city guard of all things."
"The skills that bring you to anyone's attention. Your swordsmanship, your combat arts, your spotless record of completing your assignments," he listed off the samurai' achievements, as instructed.
"Stuff that I tend to be pretty proud about," he added to the last point Morrice made. "So proud that I don't just offer my blade to anyone who asks.
"If you're worried about compensation, then put your mind at ease. I will be able to meet any price you set," he assured the worker, pointing to the chest by the desk.
"You sure, I have a pretty big imagination," Eyra boasted, sliding the chest over to himself, he flipped the padlock and looked inside. Rather than gold, the chest had a dozen bars of pressed platinum. Eyra's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets at the sight of so much wealth in one place. Counties and Dukedoms could be bought with this amount in some places.
Morrice didn't even want to know where the creature found such wealth.
"It's yours, all of it, regardless of if you take the job or not," he commented, quoting the script he was given verbatim. A thick tome of all the 'correct' answers and talking points to use when confronted with any pushback. Morrice was 'encouraged' to follow it as closely as possible. "Think of it as a gesture to show how serious I am to have your services." He felt his stomach churn mentioning the demon, and for yet another worker falling for the 'bait' laid out for them. "Rest assured, all this and more await you should you sign up for the job."
"And that would be…" the worker's eyes never left the platinum.
"I'm not at liberty to say unless you sign," fetching a contact, he slid the document across his desk forward.
Morrice's heart sank as the man quickly grabbed the parchment and gleefully signed his own death warrant. He left soon after, several magnitudes wealthier than he entered, assuring Lowton he would arrive at the appointed time to receive his orders.
Morrice sighed. So far, none of the worker teams selected by Jaldaboath have refused the offer. Not a single damn one of them.
Shouldn't they be hearing that little voice in the back of their heads saying this was all too good to be true? No One just gives this amount of wealth away unless they expect it back in their own coffers in short order.
But this is what he was ordered to do, and so here he sits. Sitting in a small office, facilitating his own nation's destruction. Arwintar was to become a pyre whose flames would scorch the heavens themselves, all the while Re-Estize would be host to a demon invasion. All for an artifact and some girl's blood.
And for his role in this living nightmare? He doubted the reprieve Jaldaboath promised him and his men was genuine. A demon with that much power just letting a bunch of people who knew the inner workings of a grand design walk?
His, and by extension his men's, sole purpose was to facilitate a veil of anonymity for Jaldaboath oath as the demon moved the pieces into position.
For what good that would be in the long term. To be allowed to live, as if the very act of breathing was granted by the demon's grace, long enough to see the world burn?
He wishes he had ordered Gramm to beat that girl to death when he encountered her and burn her remains. Maybe he'd would have been killed afterward by Jaldaboath, but at least that creature wouldn't be using him like a damned marionette.
"Sir?" Gramm looked at him while the other pair slid the next chest of platinum into place beside his desk. He almost entertained the idea of telling Gramm to have the next applicant run off, if only to spare them from being a part of this horror show.
Almost.
He looked to the dark corner of the office. The eight-legged arachnid creature hiding the deepest depths of the shadows reminded him of his orders, of the strings he now wrapped around his limbs. Of the will he must obey for now.
'For now'…as if there was a way out…
In the end, Morrice didn't answer his right hand. Straightening his hair, he took one long sip of a new bottle of liquid courage. Putting the bottle out of sight, he gestured for Gramm to let the next person in. As the worker took their seat across from him, Morrice repeated the words he had spoken so many times that day.
"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I have a job suited for someone with your skills."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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AN: Took some time, but I think it's all setting up for 'Citrinitas's grand plan' nicely!
A Gala, a battle, a conspiracy, and sasuga-ing shall ensue!
Next time we shall have Jircniv being Jircniv, Demiurge being Demiurge, and Shalltear being...Shalltear (Hide your women!).
"Royal Earth Guard," Arche commented, noticing my eyes on the cream gold-colored troops with their crimson red capes. "Elite knights that report directly to the Emperor."
"Is that armor enchanted," Something did seem different about these guys as opposed to the usual imperial knights, like I could feel a 'hum' of magic coming off them. A hum so quiet I could barely hear it.
"Yes," she nodded, "each suit has some of the most powerful enchantments the Ministry of Magic can provide. With them, the armor weighs barely anything and it can deflect armor piercing attacks."
"Did you learn about them during your time there?"
"Not as much as I would have liked," Arche sighed, "I had to…leave before we got properly into enchantments."
As expected, a knight immediately picked us out and addressed us. "Halt, what is your buissness with the Ministry?"
I have to say, The pair of knights main looked a bit gaudy in their gold and cream-colored plate armor. Maybe that was the point? To stand out I mean. The red capes were nice enough.
"My friend is here to see Master Paradyne," Arche spoke for me. "One of the Chosen came to her home earlier and said he wished to meet her."
"Master Paradyne, you say?" The guard looked at Arche, then to me, then glanced over to his companion who nodded. "Wait here, I shall send word to his lordship of your arrival."
We didn't have to wait long. A pair of cream-colored knights emerged from the building with an elderly man in tow.
"Greeting, young lady," his voice was old and wizen, with a long beard and wrinkles all across his face. In short, a stereotypical wizard. "I had been hoping to meet with you for some time now."
"So I've heard," I let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of my head. "I never thought I would ever meet you like this." Or ever.
"Indeed, though if I may ask, they said you were invited by one of my own students?"
"Yeah."
The man sighed, "it was Miss Noia wasn't it?"
"…yeah."
"I should have known. Though I should probably thank her for- Miss Furt?" Paradyne stopped his congratulations when he looked to my side to see Arche. "Miss Furt is that you?"
The wizard's sudden attention made Arche shrink into herself. "Y-yes sir," she stuttered.
"My goodness Miss Furt where have you been?" he questioned the former student. While he sounded curt, his tone was more akin to that of a teacher scolding their students. Given the situation, or more arcuately Arche's former situation, that's probably not a far-off assumption.
"I've been…busy," she wringed her fingers out and refused to meet his gaze, her eyes directed to the ground. Despite her reaction, I didn't get the impression that she was scared or that the two had parted on bad terms. In fact, it seemed like the old wizard was genuinely happy to see her, if annoyed about something.
"Busy? Miss Furt, I looked high and low for you for months after you left," the wizard explained. "I even paid your home a visit, but they had no knowledge of where you were."
"To be fair, they don't really know where I am most of the time," she tried to joke, not that it deterred Fluder from his probing questions.
"Miss Furt, you left the dormitories without a word in the dead of night. Some thought you had been abducted. The Earth Guard searched the grounds for the better part of the day before concluding you had left of your own volition."
"…I left a note that explained everything."
"A hastily written letter of several intertwined apologies hardly explains everything Miss Furt," Paradyne sighed. "If this is about your family's worsening financial situation I would have been more than willing to have such fees waived so you could continue your education. Few have the potential to join my disciples and I would rather not see such talent go to waste."
"I know sir," Arche mumbled, meeting his gaze for the briefest of moments, before looking away. "I know, but there was more…more than just my financial issues that made me leave. I'm sorry sir, but I'd rather not talk about this in…public." She eyed the gilded guards.
The elderly mage sighed, realizing he wasn't going to get anything else from her for now, "very well, but I expect a proper explanation as your circumstances when we meet again. And we will meet again in the near future Miss Furt. Am I clear?"
"Yes sir I understand," she nodded, then looked up to me with a reassuring smile. "And I should be leaving now. Good luck with whatever happens, Lilly."
"Thanks," as we parted ways, I walked beside the elderly man into the Ministry building.
"So, what did you want to talk about?"
-----
-----
After leading me down a maze-like labyrinth of sublevels and basements, he directed me into a laboratory-like morgue with a single tarp-covered table at the center. Even so deep underground, magical lights lit everything.
Pulling the tarp aside, Fluder revealed a dreadfully pale corpse with black ooze pooling in small cuts across the body. The after effects of my [Black Blood] spell were obvious enough.
Oh fuck…
"Do you recognize this man?" He questioned, not accusatory but still very to the point.
How should I put this…
"Are asking if I know him, or that I remember doing …this to him?" I questioned back, my head already trying to run through all the possible things I could say that would not end up with me in a prison cell. Not that I was afraid of being incarcerated, I could either teleport out or
"There's no need to be defensive, I hardly brought you to my laboratory to simply have you arrested in some overcomplicated ploy for you to admit guilt over killing some vagrant," Fluder waved off my perceived concerns. "He could have been a prince and I would still not care. No, I'm far more preoccupied with understanding how you killed him."
"Never seen anything like it before then?" Okay, I can salvage this.
"More its application than the act itself," he clarified. "Few curses tend to leave a corpse so devoid of unaltered flesh. If I had to guess, I would say it was rapid transmutation of his blood into a corrosive like substance that eventually led to death. Am I correct, or am I looking at this from the wrong angle?
So he just wants to…talk shop? "Y-our right, it did change him like that, it's a spell called [Black Blood]," I have no idea if that's what Black Blood actually does.
"[Black Blood]," he mulled over the name, "apt as names go. And the spell itself, would I be wrong to assume it is of the third tier?"
"Yeah, how did you-"
"When you live as long as I have, you start to pick up things such as transmutation. I might be mistaken, but it looks as if a rapid transmutation occurs on a biological level beyond…" and he was off! He just kept talking and talking about magical formulas and catalysts and other stuff I had no idea about.
I just smiled, nodded, and offered the occasional input as this elderly man went on to fanboy over my work. Occasionally looking over to the clock to watch the hands slowly, but surely, tick by.
Ten minutes.
Twenty.
Thirty.
An Hour.
And he just kept talking.
But his rabid questioning and talking about magic did remind me what his role in the 'story' was. That's right, he betrayed the Empire to Ainz since to him Ainz was some kind of magic god who could teach him about magic. Not sure how that played out in the story given that Ainz has no idea how his magic works on a mechanical level beyond just knowing how to cast it. Not that I was any better, maybe even worse off since I didn't even know what spells I 'knew'.
Speaking of betrayal, is it even betrayal when the Empire eventually vassalized itself to Ainz's Sorcerer Kingdom? Retroactively, his actions would be seen as 'loyal' in such a case. Still-
Wait.
He betrayed the Empire because he thought Ainzs was some magic god thanks to his talent. What was it he said again, it's been years since I actually saw the source material. 'Peering off into the abyss' or something?
Still, the whole experience made him super loyal to Ainz, or loyal enough to go behind the Emperor's back and lead to the Worker invasion….
Foresight…and Arche…die in.
Does that have to happen again?
I am here with him, presumably, before Ainz ever stepped foot in the Empire.
And I do have a very powerful magical aura myself…I think.
Level ninety should at least be powerful enough to get his attention and, if I am lucky, poison the well a bit in regards to Nazarick. Or even start to build up my own little powerbase beyond Nazarick.
Inferior at would be in terms of objective power.
Maybe if I showed him my true power, he would listen to me instead of Ainz.
"Excuse me, just a quick question. Arche said you have the same talent as she does?" nice Segway. Smooth as a jackknife through traffic. "Is it true?"
He got himself out of 'lecture mode', a book in hand, and chuckled to himself. "Yes we share the same talent, [All Seeing Eyes], which allows users to observe the magical potential of other beings. Why, she say something about it beyond me sharing the same talent?"
"Well, when she used her talent on me, she said she could barely look at me since my 'aura' was too bright,"
"Oh, she told you that, did she?" Again, chuckling to himself, I saw his own eyes start to glow an ethereal blue just as Arche's did with her ability turned on. Yet unlike her, Fluder didn't even look fazed by my 'powerful aura'. "Easy to see why, your power is formidable indeed. It's how I found you to begin with."
"So, the greatest you've ever seen?"
"Not the greatest, no," he shook his head. "There is one other whose aura far outshines yours."
Wait, really?
"Yours is Still powerful though," he continued. "Prodigal even. A once in a century level of potential. You will go down in history young lady, that much I promise you."
Ah there's the praise I needed for my ego.
"Actually," I fiddle with the ring concealing my powers, "speaking of power, there is something I want to show you."
"Oh?" he looked intrigued. "Some powerful spell. Fourth….no fifth tier perhaps? It must be something quite impressive to be so circumspect about it."
I started to slide the ring off my finger, "more like something beyond your-"
"Apologies for the intrusion Master Paradyne," the door to the laboratory swung open and a woman in full armor walked in with a polearm somehow attached to her back. Long blonde hair covered half her face, her one exposed eye locked onto me before going to Fluder. "The Emperor has requested your presence."
Did I just get conspiracy cock blocked?
"What rotten timing," I heard the wizard mumbled under his breath before addressing the knight. "Very well, Lady Rockbruise. Give me a few moments to say my farewells to my college here and we can be off."
"Of course, Master Paradyne," while the knight was talking to the old man, I couldn't help but feel her one exposed eye stuck on me.
I heard the old man sigh, "matters of state can be so tiresome. I feel this summons will take up the entirety of my day. I apologize for the suddenness of our parting. We must continue our discussion soon, I have no doubt we can expand much on the transmutation of organic components if we were to pool our work together," he reassured me.
Wait…that's what he was talking about to me when I was thinking of how to subvert him before Ainz could subvert him?
I followed Fluder out, but the knight stopped me at the door, "apologies miss…"
"Lilly," finished for her.
"Miss Lilly then," she corrected herself.
"Is there a problem with my guest, Lady Rockbruise?" I heard Fluder ask.
"None Master Paradyne, I just want to ask her something while I have the chance," she replied.
Realization shone across Fluder's face, "ah…it's about that then?"
"Yes."
Wait what?
"Then you don't need to worry about escorting me, I'm more than capable of reaching his majesty on my own. And good day Miss Lilith," wait Lilith? Where did he get that- oh right, Lilly Lilith. Okay I can see how he reached that conclusion. "I see this as the beginning of a productive working relationship between us."
"Apologies for keeping you ma'am," the knight started, "but I need your help with lifting a curse."
"A curse?" what… "Is it…killing you or something?"
"No," she shook her head. "A curse that has plagued me for years and marred my face beyond decency." Rockbruise touched the part of her face concealed by hair, "it's so repulsive that I've had to cover the entire side of my face to keep others from feeling…uncomfortable in my presence."
"So it's just a skin condition?"
"Worse," she pulled her hair aside to show me.
She must be overreacting. How bad can some skin thing possibly be…
What the fuck is wrong with her face!
"That sort of reaction is common the first time people see it," she commented on my expression of disgust, putting her hair back down to block it and wiping some of the puss off her gauntlet. "As you can guess, I am eager to be free of this curse. Being a caster who uses curses, it stands to reason you know how to break them. Or am I mistaken?"
Now under normal circumstances, I would have explained to her that casting and curing curses are two very different things. Like how a knight knows how to swing a sword, but they might not know how to make one from scratch. Mostly because I didn't want to get involved with all this 'stuff'.
But then I got an idea.
This woman is one of the Emperor's guards right? Someone who will probably be by his side and, more importantly, hear what he hears. Like, a completely random example, say a hither unknown tomb being discovered? Maybe the first word of an attack on a certain Kingdom's capital city?
It would at least give me an idea of the timetable I have to work around. Granted I could probably just ask Demiurge and he'd start gushing about how 'amazing Ainz's plan' was. But I want to have an ear to the door of what the other side is talking about.
And if I couldn't get Fluder now, I could at least ingratiate myself to one of the emperor's guards.
"I'd be happy to help," I put on the best smile my face can muster, hoping the thing didn't look as fake as it felt. "When are you free?"
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Rockbruise knocked on my door at noon the following day, as previously agreed upon. She wasn't wearing her imperial knight armor. Merely a simple, yet undeniably well made, tunic and trousers with a simple short sword at her side. Pretty sure the blade was enchanted in some way, but nothing that worried me.
And by knocking on my door at noon, I mean the exact moment the clock struck twelve. Given that she had also been standing outside my home for the better part of an hour before that, it's safe for me to assume she is very eager to see if I can cure her.
Of course, given that I have tons of Yggdrasil stuff, this is a matter of 'how' not 'can' I fix her. Game stuff is borderline godly to these people, I'm certain I have something or other that can help her.
"So how did you even get that anyway," I started with some small talk as the knight was led into a makeshift lab made out of a spare guest room since I was hardly going to use my real lab for this. Sitting the woman down in a chair, Mya and Eva could barely look at the woman, their faces scrunching up in disgust as she pulled her hair back so all could see her condition.
"I was cursed, I told you the other day," Rockbruise softly replied. She relaxed in her seat, accepting an offered towel by Mya to clean up the puss drippling down her face.
Glad I did not eat before this.
"I was thinking more about specifics," I clarified, my chair rolling across the room to the desk where I had a bunch of 'stuff' laid out. No idea what most of it was, beyond the potions I laid out the other day, but it looked pretty 'official' if I say so. "Why? When? How? That sort of stuff."
"Is that really important?"
"Well, curses are very annoying to deal with and more annoying to cure," I explained. Afterall I have to make it look like I didn't have a [Minor Curse Curse] Potion on my desk ready to go. "Annoying because they can be caused by either one thing or several things together.
Rock Bruise was quiet for a moment, then sighed, "it was during a mission with the Adventurers Guild. I killed a creature, some hunched over hag thing, never got the name of it, and it cursed me with its dying breath. When I returned home, my family threw me onto the streets the moment they caught sight of my marred face. I was cut off from my family, and my betrothed refused to marry a 'hideous' woman like me, and all my former acquaintances treated me like a leper from that day on."
"Betrothed?" Why was that the one part of it I was surprised by?
"I was…I am a noblewoman," the knight corrected herself. "My parents disowned me the day I came home with this," she gestured to her face, "but the emperor reinstated me when I joined the Imperial Knights. But back on topic, do you want me to describe the creature?"
"Hmmm, I don't think so," It's not important anyway. "Excuse my curiosity, but how are they doing now? Your parents and former betrothed I mean," I only realized how bad my attempt at small talk was after I asked the question.
"Dispossessed and dead," she said as if commenting on the weather, "the first of three boons I asked of the emperor when I entered his service."
"Ah," that's charming, still 'looking' for the right thing for her. "So, what are the other two things you asked for?"
"One other thing, my parents and former betrothed were each a boon to themselves," she corrected me. "The third boon is what I am here for, a cure to my curse."
"You think I can cure it?"
"To be honest, I doubt anything will come of this," she bluntly admitted. "If Fluder Paradyne cannot cure me, what chances does a girl like you have?"
"Then why ask for my help at all if you think it's pointless," I don't know why, but being told I couldn't do something was a tad more aggravating than I thought it would be. Even knowing full well I am far beyond the likes of someone like Fluder.
"Because I am that desperate," was all she said on the matter. "I've chased after soothsayers, herbalists, healers, priests, anyone and anything that is rumored to even possibly cure curses. I refuse to let even a single chance slip through my fingers, no matter how slim the odds are."
"Right," At least she's honest?
Well, I think I have done enough small talk for now. I grab the potion first lined up on my desk, a simple [Minor Health Potion]. Maybe this curse is just some illness that can be 'healed' away.
"Drink this," I roll my chair over to her and hand her the small vial. She looked at the contents in inquisitive interest, moving the vial a bit to see the sanguine liquid swish about. "It's not blood if that's what you're-"
She drank the whole thing in a single sip, handing the empty vial back to me. "It wouldn't have mattered if it was."
"So," I gave a sideways glance to the pus ridden scar still on her face, "feel anything?"
She blinked, looking to the mirror then patting herself, "the bruise on my side seems to be gone. But other than that, nothing."
"Well, it's a good thing we still have some more stuff to try," I give her a good-natured laugh as she gives me a blank expression.
Eh, everyone's a critic.
Next in the line, a vial of [Minor Cure Disease]. "Try this one."
Unlike before, the knight did not hesitate in drinking the potion. Downing the contents, she shook her head a minute later.
No changes.
Hmmm. So, it is an actual curse.
"Right, third time's the charm," I go for the final potion laid out: [Minor Dispel Curse]. Why something like this is in liquid form, I can only guess. Probably Players with no magic and no magic casters around.
With a dull expression, she downs this vial as easily as the others. If this doesn't work, I'll just start casting spells since I refuse to believe there is not a spell that can get rid of something as minor as disgusting skin.
And I want my IN with the imperial court!
Seconds passed and nothing happened.
Another dud. Who knew Yggdrasil stuff would be so-
Rockbruise let out a pained gasp and hunched over in her chair. Puss dripped from the patch of skin as she covered her face, the skin itself hissing as if it was being burnt off by an unseen force. I couldn't see what was going on since she clapped her hand atop her skin, but I think I found a potion that was working.
She sat hunched over for a good minute, until the burning sound stopped.
She quickly examined herself in the mirror.
"Another…" she whispered.
"I'm sorry-"
Her arm slammed down on the desk, "give me another one of those potions now!" She pointed to her face, "whatever you gave me, it is the first time anything has ever affected the curse. Anything."
I reflexively grabbed a normal [Dispel Curse] potion from my item box. I have no idea how much stronger this is from the 'minor' variant, but it'll probably do something at least. She snatched it out of my hand, not even asking where the phial had come from (or how it appeared in my hand), and drank it to the last drop.
Just as before, it took seconds before she groaned in pain. The hissing sound of flesh burning returned. Grabbing the towel from before, she pressed it against the cursed skin to catch all the fluids starting to drip down her face. Unlike the minor variant, the normal dispel curse potion went on for longer.
So long in fact that I spied a stray golem silently poking its head through the doorway to see what all the noise was about. I gave the suit a 'shoo' motion for it to go back to looking like decoration.
As with before, the hissing and pained breathing eventually stopped.
Dropping the now yellow towel, she reached for the small mirror. Gasping in shock, she dropped the thing on the floor.
Walking over, I see what startled her.
Her face was scarred. Horribly scarred. Lines of red flesh wove through her skin like vines. Bits looked burnt as if cauterized by an open flame. It was a mess.
And yet there was no sign of the curse on her skin. These burned lines of dead skin looked more akin to a poorly healed wound compared to whatever the hell she was dealing with before was. Not a single drip of puss to be seen.
"It's….it's really…I…", Her bare fingers tentatively touched her scarred flesh, marveling at the change and tearing up at the sight. She looked like someone just told her she was going to survive a deadly disease.
While it looked far better than before, it could still be better. And I knew just the thing.
I grabbed another Minor Health Potion from the item box when she wasn't looking.
After all, scars were something that could heal.
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Emperor Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix, the Bloody Emperor, was at a loss for words at the disaster before him.
"Gods Leinas, look at you!"
The whole situation was simply a disaster.
"I never thought I would see the day, Lady Rockbruise."
Leinas Rockbruise returned from her little jaunt with the girl Fluder was all worked up about. Rather than the solemn woman who left his court that very morning, she returned with almost a second wind to herself. Her posture straighter, her eyes more filled with life, even her step seemed to seemed to have more surety to it.
But most of all, her hair was pulled back, showing smooth, unmarred skin, on both sides of her face. The string used to tie her hair down to keep her cursed skin hidden, now used to show her unobstructed face to the world.
"Thank you," she thanked the congratulations coming in from her fellow Imperial Knights. "I can hardly believe it myself."
Jircniv had only let Leinas go seek out that girl's magical help because he believed it would be ultimately futile. If Fluder Paradyne couldn't cure a curse, then what were the odds some random mage could do it?
More importantly, this new turn of events meant that the woman's loyalty was no longer guaranteed. True, Leinas had always been up front with him about the transactional nature of their relationship. She would serve him so long as he did all in his power to search for a cure for her. For years he fulfilled his word to the letter, alerting her to every possible cure for her condition that came to his attention with her in turn serving him dutifully as one of his Imperial Knights. None ever worked, thus ensuring her loyalty to him. Again, transactional as it was.
But now that she was cured, and not by his hand but by some foreigner, what little loyalty that was there was thrown into serious question.
He wanted to kick himself for being so careless. Nothing Baziwood reported indicated the girl was anything out of the ordinary, beyond that magical power Fluder kept hemming and hawing about.
She was nothing more than a high-born girl, either running away from home or on some foreign tour, that was magically gifted and horrible at pretending she was not of noble birth. While hardly the keenest eye for courtly matters or fine intrigue, he trusted Baziwood to have done his best due diligence before reporting back to him. If he didn't see anything worthy of concern, there was nothing to be concerned about.
Except there was.
Leianis told a fanciful tale of a manor filled with magical oddities, foreign trinkets, miraculous potions, and small vials of Gods Blood. Or more specifically, Fluder concluding that the small vials of red potion must have been the mythical substance known as Gods Blood.
And that last one truly interested him. While there was every possibility this girl was like so many of the parasitic nobles of the Kingdom or his own Empire, wasting valuables on a whim, some gut feeling told him that was not the case. That such miraculous potions were simply common enough to use flippantly or even that the land the girl originated from could afford to waste such miraculous elixirs on such minor matters.
He hardly believed the wives tales that the vials held the actual blood of gods in them, but the art of creating such potions had been lost for ages.
So the world thought.
Somewhere they were being made, that much was clear now, even if in small numbers. Even thick-headed as he was in magical matters, he could feel the storm such a discovery would bring once the word got out.
"It's strange to walk around like this," Rockbruise admitted amidst the praise and congratulations that continued to flow to her as Jircniv mused to himself. "I doubt fate or divine providence led me to find Lady Lilith, none the less I am beyond grateful for what she has done for me."
Lady Lilith? Earlier that day, Rockbruise had referred to her only as 'that girl'.
"Forgive me, your Majesty," Rockbruise's voice broke Jircniv from his thoughts, the knight knelt before him. "I apologize for my brusqueness, but I must request a leave of absence from your service."
And here it begins, he expected as much the moment she walked through his doors unmarred by her curse. The only thing keeping her in his service was the hope of one day finding a cure for her affliction. Now that it was gone, there was nothing truly keeping her to his service.
And after that, then what?
How long until that girl left with Leinas in tow? How long until Leinas told said girl all the secrets she had accumulated about Empire in her years of serving him? How long until some foreign nation had knowledge of the inner workings of his Empire and used that to gain leverage over them?
There were so many variables at play it made him almost dizzy to think about them.
"So, you're basically going to rub it in your parents face right?"
"There are simply things I wish to do that I was unable to do for years on end," she did not deny Peshmel's jab. "Rest assured, I will return to service before the Gala begins. But after that, I am unsure of what I will do."
Ah yes, the Gala. A yearly event where he hosts the most important people from across the Empire in Arwintar and announces the start of the buildup for the Annual War with Re-Estize. A proclamation that is made loudly, repeatedly, and so clearly that even the Kingdom's dimwitted spy network could put two and two together.
While all he has to do is move a legion or two towards the Katze Plains, the Kingdom has to go through the messy song and dance of rising levies from the various feudal domains of the nation. Given that it will soon be the harvest season, and so many men will be on the march, food output will drop across the Kingdom before even the first arrow is loosed upon the battlefield. A consequence of conscripting most of the nation's farmers and not having a standing army.
Every year fewer and fewer farmers returned to their fields, and soon enough famine would eventually grip the Kingdom. The starving masses will start to rip the nation apart shortly thereafter. Corrupt and bloated as it already was, Re-Estize was barely holding together before the stress of his Annual Conflicts. Add in some famine, and their putrid order will come crashing down under its own weight.
By the time the nobles even realize what he's doing, it'll already be too late.
Yet a thought occurred to him.
That's it!
"Loune," Jircniv called his personal scribe to his side.
"You're majesty?"
"Have an invitation to the Gala sent to this, Lady Lilith," Jircniv instructed his manservant.
"Oh, have an interest in her yourself now?" Fluder commented.
"Worried about being replaced?" Jircniv jokes, hiding the apprehension he felt for Leanis's imminent defection to a foreign national's service . "If she can perform magical feats even you can't do, maybe she ought to be my Court Mage."
The man huffed, "it would give me more time for my research, your majesty. Though she is somewhat young for the position."
Jircniv rolled his eyes at Fluder's reply. He never could get a rye out of the old man. Almost made him wish for the return of those sycophants at court who squirmed at the slightest hint of being replaced.
Almost.
Still, it was more than simple curiosity that moved him to invite this magic caster to the Gala. The invitation, or her attendance, served to advance three goals of his own.
First, it allowed him to ascertain the goals of this girl for himself. While he trusted Fluder's assessment of her magical prowess, with Leanis's miraculous recovery only adding credence to it, he needed to gather some information on her. Where was she from, what is that state's stance on the Empire, what was her stance on the Empire. In short, he wanted to know if this was simple naive altruism for its own sake, or the start of an insidious attempt to subvert members of his court.
Her age, regardless of what it may truly be, was hardly a limiting factor on ambition. Jircniv himself was only twelve when he successfully assumed his throne and started his purges.
Second, he could start forming the first line of communication with her homeland and the Empire. Even if it was nothing more than a single city in the middle of a desert with no natural resources of value, he could still gain the recipe for Gods Blood from them, either through mutual agreement or more stubble means.
And finally, if she was amenable, or malleable to his wishes, he would see if she was willing to take part in the Annual War itself in one form or another. He could think of a few ways curses and black magic could be used to accelerate his timetable for the collapse of Re-Estize.
For years he's tried to get Fluder to use his necromancy on the battlefield, to swarm the field with undead in such numbers they would bury the living. To his dismay, the old man refused outright. Something about it being 'too much of a bother'.
Not that his refusal changed his timeline for the Kingdom's collapse. Ten years, fifteen at most, until it fell apart. Assuming that despicable princess didn't somehow wring out some hitherto unseen reforms that makes everything he has been working towards irrelevant.
But the odds of that were, at the moment, so small he could hardly consider them realistic.
The Kingdom will fall.
It was merely a matter of when, not if.
Ah yes, he felt a smile curl on his lips as the last bits of his plan fell into place. He watched his knights talk amongst themselves and his scribe rushing out to fulfill his orders from atop his throne.
Everything seemed to be coming along nicely.
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"Send in the next one," Morrice Lotwon gestured for Gramm to get the door as the next worker waited to enter.
The current room was a tad smaller than what he was used to working with, there was hardly enough space for anything. Yet cramped as he was, he could never bring himself to step foot in his old office again.
He could still smell the blood, see it even, no matter how much the servants cleaned the room.
He finished up the bottle of wine he had been working on since that morning as his other men moved the next chest into place by his desk.
Hmmm, a fine vintage from a better time, he mused.
Led into the office was Erya Uzruth, the samurai leader of the worker team Tenmu. Though team was a strong word, give the other three members were his slaves. Still, with accomplishments that varied from suppressing a slave revolt in Sumerfurst, pushing back a warheard of beastmen that pushed deep into he Dragon Kingdom, to several commendations from the foreign office for deeds done against the Re-Estize Kingdom, he was more than competent regardless of his lack of 'true' teammates.
Why Morrice would wager that compared to his small security detail, maybe Gramm included, there wouldn't be any way to beat this man should he decide to kill them. The closed confines of this room certainly benefited the worker who specialized in speed.
And yet…
Shadows shifted in the furthest, darkest, corners of the office. The darkness bends and gives way to an even more umbral presence. If he hadn't watched those things skitter in earlier, he would have never thought anything was off.
How fortunate that he had such a generous…partner to send Morrice a powerful 'protector' after he effortlessly slaughtered a rank of his guards.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice. I have a job suitable for someone with your skills," the words were almost ingrained into his skull by this point. Repetition had its uses he supposed.
"My skills?" Eyra chuckled at Morrice's choice of words. "Which ones would those be, since I'm not exactly in the habit of working for scurrying criminals who are afraid of being stepped on by the city guard of all things."
"The skills that bring you to anyone's attention. Your swordsmanship, your combat arts, your spotless record of completing your assignments," he listed off the samurai' achievements, as instructed.
"Stuff that I tend to be pretty proud about," he added to the last point Morrice made. "So proud that I don't just offer my blade to anyone who asks.
"If you're worried about compensation, then put your mind at ease. I will be able to meet any price you set," he assured the worker, pointing to the chest by the desk.
"You sure, I have a pretty big imagination," Eyra boasted, sliding the chest over to himself, he flipped the padlock and looked inside. Rather than gold, the chest had a dozen bars of pressed platinum. Eyra's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets at the sight of so much wealth in one place. Counties and Dukedoms could be bought with this amount in some places.
Morrice didn't even want to know where the creature found such wealth.
"It's yours, all of it, regardless of if you take the job or not," he commented, quoting the script he was given verbatim. A thick tome of all the 'correct' answers and talking points to use when confronted with any pushback. Morrice was 'encouraged' to follow it as closely as possible. "Think of it as a gesture to show how serious I am to have your services." He felt his stomach churn mentioning the demon, and for yet another worker falling for the 'bait' laid out for them. "Rest assured, all this and more await you should you sign up for the job."
"And that would be…" the worker's eyes never left the platinum.
"I'm not at liberty to say unless you sign," fetching a contact, he slid the document across his desk forward.
Morrice's heart sank as the man quickly grabbed the parchment and gleefully signed his own death warrant. He left soon after, several magnitudes wealthier than he entered, assuring Lowton he would arrive at the appointed time to receive his orders.
Morrice sighed. So far, none of the worker teams selected by Jaldaboath have refused the offer. Not a single damn one of them.
Shouldn't they be hearing that little voice in the back of their heads saying this was all too good to be true? No One just gives this amount of wealth away unless they expect it back in their own coffers in short order.
But this is what he was ordered to do, and so here he sits. Sitting in a small office, facilitating his own nation's destruction. Arwintar was to become a pyre whose flames would scorch the heavens themselves, all the while Re-Estize would be host to a demon invasion. All for an artifact and some girl's blood.
And for his role in this living nightmare? He doubted the reprieve Jaldaboath promised him and his men was genuine. A demon with that much power just letting a bunch of people who knew the inner workings of a grand design walk?
His, and by extension his men's, sole purpose was to facilitate a veil of anonymity for Jaldaboath oath as the demon moved the pieces into position.
For what good that would be in the long term. To be allowed to live, as if the very act of breathing was granted by the demon's grace, long enough to see the world burn?
He wishes he had ordered Gramm to beat that girl to death when he encountered her and burn her remains. Maybe he'd would have been killed afterward by Jaldaboath, but at least that creature wouldn't be using him like a damned marionette.
"Sir?" Gramm looked at him while the other pair slid the next chest of platinum into place beside his desk. He almost entertained the idea of telling Gramm to have the next applicant run off, if only to spare them from being a part of this horror show.
Almost.
He looked to the dark corner of the office. The eight-legged arachnid creature hiding the deepest depths of the shadows reminded him of his orders, of the strings he now wrapped around his limbs. Of the will he must obey for now.
'For now'…as if there was a way out…
In the end, Morrice didn't answer his right hand. Straightening his hair, he took one long sip of a new bottle of liquid courage. Putting the bottle out of sight, he gestured for Gramm to let the next person in. As the worker took their seat across from him, Morrice repeated the words he had spoken so many times that day.
"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I have a job suited for someone with your skills."
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AN: Took some time, but I think it's all setting up for 'Citrinitas's grand plan' nicely!
A Gala, a battle, a conspiracy, and sasuga-ing shall ensue!
Next time we shall have Jircniv being Jircniv, Demiurge being Demiurge, and Shalltear being...Shalltear (
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Zowo
A picture paints a thousand words, good and bad
"You see, her plan was to infiltrate and compromise the integrity of the royal circle! By becoming a prodigy, she gets direct access to the king and with the status of curing and dealing curses will give her a spotlight among the people. The peasants and nobility alike will will be focused on her while other plans can occur! Not only that, but due to such status, the king and other mortals with seek to desperately keep her close, letting the 'innocent prodigy' get information! And more! Other nations will soon seek to gain favor of such an asset leading to political turmoil! Ahhh it's so beautiful and simple! The veil of a naive foreigner who happens to be a prodigy! Ahhhhh!"
"Uh… yes. That is definitely my plan at the lord's request. f**k f**k f**k f**k f**"
"Yes, exactly as I ordered her to do. All in my grand plan to spread the glory of Nazarick. S**t s**t s**t s**t s**t"
"Uh… yes. That is definitely my plan at the lord's request. f**k f**k f**k f**k f**"
"Yes, exactly as I ordered her to do. All in my grand plan to spread the glory of Nazarick. S**t s**t s**t s**t s**t"
.... I kind of want to see the story develop without the shenanigans from Nazarick. It feels like celebrating an Indian week long wedding fully aware that the IRS is coming sometime next week to audit.
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pingas plight
-Most cunning scientific fuck-up in all of Mobius
And then they end up somehow becoming friends after a good drinking session, griping about having to keep up a masquerade that could shatter at a breath.
Chapter 16 - Gehenna Part 1
Midas_Man
One of the Brightest Stars
Shalltear could hardly contain her excitement.
This was it! Her first chance since that debacle to prove herself to Lord Ainz!
There were still many hours before she had to make her 'debut', over a day in fact, but she just couldn't get the giddy nervous energy out of her system.
Demiurge had stopped by the day prior and told her of her involvement in Lord Ainz's plans. She was certain he was omitting things, probably because he thought the sheer breadth and intricacies of their Lord's plans would go over her head.
But what he did explain to her filled her with nothing but happiness and the smallest hint of anxiety. To not only be given a chance to redeem herself from her actions but to do so at the side of the single most beautiful woman in all of Nazarick? It was almost like a dream come true!
But it was that very same situation that made her anxious.
If she failed… if she let down Citrinitas's words of encouragement… if she let her Lord's mercy be in vain…
Demiurge claimed her role was 'simple' and that she merely needed to follow Citrinitas's lead if she was confused. He even went so far as to leave a script of the events he and Citrinitas had concocted to facilitate Lord Ainz's designs.
At first, she tried to memorize her whole part verbatim, to ingrain each and every word on the papers into her memory. But… ughh, it was just so long and had some words she didn't even know the meaning of! She tried for hours to get through it, forcing herself through line after dull line, but to no avail. And so it laid on her desk, seven of seventy pages actually read.
Shalltear was tempted to just have her brides read it and give her the summary of all the important bits, maybe even note them down for her as a sort of cheat sheet. But not only was this too important of a task to delegate to anyone, she doubted any of her brides were actually smart enough for the task.
Case and point: they couldn't even properly pick out what the script described as 'adventuring' clothes.
"No, the colors are too bright," Shalltear dismissed the bright red dress, tossing the article onto the venerable mountain of clothes already present.
The next bride followed, pressing the dull blue dress to her pale frame.
"No, these colors are too muted," snatching the dress from her hand Shalltear tossed it with the rest.
Lord Peroroncino left no shortage of outfits for her to wear. From conservative to risqué, flashy to subdued, and everything in-between. With each and every one of them being the pinnacle of their respective styles, as expected of her brilliant creator.
And still…
The next bride stepped forward with yet another dress. Again, she rejected it.
The process had been going on for hours. While each and every outfit was perfect, there was always the possibility that the outfit she chose wouldn't be what Lord Ainz had envisioned for her role in his plan. And what if that one, small, choice on her part caused his plan to falter? That she was such a screw up, that even plans envisioned by a Supreme One were susceptible to her failures, was insane as the thought was.
"No, too revealing," rolling her eyes she tossed the dress of literal straps and buckles aside.
While hardly against wearing clothes that showed vast tracts of skin or emphasized her creator-given figure, she drew the line at wearing anything that might make disgusting humans lustfully gaze at her like a piece of meat. While she could hardly say it was unexpected, since who wouldn't be dumbstruck by a being handcrafted by one of the Supreme Beings, there was only one man who was allowed to look at her like that. She'd carve out the eyes and castrate anyone else who did so.
…well, that's not entirely true.
On their knees, properly broken in, any human would be free to salivate at the sight of her form. As is proper for a toy.
And of course, her Lord fully intended for her to seduce maidens, be they pure, nubile, or anything in between, on sex appeal alone. Their innocent eyes being opened to a delicious slice of forbidden fruit was also anticipated, as was their inevitable fall into her clutches where she warps and twists them to her desires.
Speaking of Supreme Beings… if Lord Ainz was successful in finding the other Supreme Beings she would hardly oppose any of them looking at her as such.
And if Lord Peroroncino were here… Oh, to be dragged into her creator's bed by the hair, her clothes torn from her form by his strong hands, as he proceeded to use her in every way he saw fit…
Strangely, the only Supreme Being she didn't feel such an urge towards was Lady Bukubukuchagama. When Shalltear thinks back to her Lord's sister, she felt… nothing. 'Nothing' in the sense she didn't feel the urge to present herself fully to her Ladyship, to be ravished in the ways she envisioned the other Supreme Beings would. She acknowledged her aesthetic beauty, her power, her intellect, and her authority over herself, but she didn't feel aroused by her.
There is always the possibility that Lord Peroroncino crafted her to not find slimes enticing, but then why did Shalltear find the image of Solution forced between her legs gratifying?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a new dress being pressed up against her.
"No, not revealing enough," she tsked, tossing the outfit to the side. She hardly wanted an outfit that wasn't flattering to her figure!
Still, at this point she worried she'd never find what she was looking for.
Agh! What kind of failure can't even wear the right clothes!?
"No, too- what?! Are you stupid! You already showed me this one!" She threw the black dress at the bride.
"I'm sorry Lady Shall-ugh!" The bride found herself thrown across the room, slamming into the wall.
The other brides paid no mind to their 'sister' as they resumed showing Shalltear her wardrobe.
Everything had to be perfect. Shalltear could accept nothing less. If she let down Citrinitas… if she failed Lord Ainz again… If she messed up again, if she somehow failed her duties again….
Feeling cool fabric touch her skin, Shalltear turned to the mirror to examine herself. The bride in question shivering as her mistress lingered on the outfit.
"…better," Shalltear finally noted. She shoved the bride aside and took the dress from her, walking closer to the mirror. Twirling herself about to see how it would look at different angles, she hummed in approval. "Much better."
---
---
God, do I wish I could get drunk.
Ah, the woes of one with maximum poison resistance. At least the stuff tasted good enough. Though I have to wonder what some of these people must be thinking with someone who looks like me almost chugging down wine by the bottle at the rate I was going. I was already getting some looks from the staff and was even asked if I wanted water instead of wine at least twice now.
I understand the concern, still annoying though.
Soft music, weak drinks (for me anyway), stuffy clothes, everyone giving each other smiles when they're actually trying to politic around one another, I could say I thoroughly dislike this whole thing.
Maybe for some being in the grand palace of the Emperor himself during his yearly 'let's go to war with Re-Estize party' might be fun. For me it was annoying.
Then again, as far as medieval galas went, I didn't really have a frame of reference to work with. I went to a renaissance festival a few times with some friends. They were fun enough, but the only thing I really remember about the experience was seeing some guy selling remakes of well-known paintings with the twist being the people in the paintings were replaced with cats.
Some of the best money I have ever spent…
Still, this was all just too stuffy for my liking.
And then there was all this political bullshit going on.
And all the stuff they talked: the coming annual war with Re-Estize, inflation, a string of attacks on towns within the Kingdom that left no survivors, the latest news from the Dragon Kingdom holding off the beastmen, the slave trade, it was all just so pointless.
Well, actually, that bit about the Dragon Kingdom was interesting. Interesting in the way it gave me a testing ground for me and my creations to have some guilt free destruction. Hard to feel bad for an invading horde of beastmen when they're sole goal is to conquer and eat the people of the kingdom they are attacking.
Why did I even come here again? Get all dressed up (by casting a spell to just make my clothes look like what I normally wear around the Tomb because I am too lazy) and interacting with people I didn't care about?
Beyond it being a golden opportunity to actually meet Jircniv in the flesh and get my foot in the door, I really needed a change in scenery.
For the past while I've been doing almost nothing but producing philosopher stones en masse. Unlike simply transmuting metals from one type to another these stones had a fixed 'cook' time. Let's say, if I made one stone, it takes three hours. If I make two stones, it takes six hours. If I make three it takes nine, and so on. No matter how many I made in bulk, even if I started them at different times and across the damn room, they always seemed to 'cook' in sync with one another.
Not to mention how much prismatic ores they took up. The damn things are like bottomless pits for alchemy. I've almost exhausted my store of ores just from the stones I've made already.
I'll just chalk that up to game mechanics bleeding over into this world.
But now that I had my stones, I wanted to try and make my own NPCs. Not enchanting suits of armor to life, but flesh and blood NPCs. In short, I wanted to make homunculi. But instead of wasting all my stones making a single high-level NPC, I decided to just try out making something a bit simpler and lower-leveled.
Hehehe… 'Simple'…
My first foray into creating an actual homunculus went… poorly. Though I will say that I'm ninety-nine-point nine percent sure the fault is on my end.
The… thing… I made was some sort of horrific creature. It was hairless, emaciated, atrophied, had a ken doll physiology, whose fingers and toes all fused together, and covered in smooth grey skin. Covered being very literal in this case. It had no mouth, no eyes, no ears, no nose, just smooth featureless skin across the entire body.
The very moment the 'creation' process was done, it dropped to the floor writhing in pain. Its hands, or skin mittens, dug along the front of its face to 'make' an opening to breath. At least, I think it was. Hard to tell when it only made whines and grunting sounds.
The whole scene was disturbing on so many levels.
I did not let it… suffer long.
Sadly, the next homunculus suffered a similar fate.
As did the one after that.
And the one after that.
It wasn't until the seventh homunculus that I figured out what I was doing wrong.
Their bodies were akin to basic 3D renders in a character creator. Going with gaming terminology, I was creating characters without editing their base appearance. Hence the small string of abominations that I made.
The day before I tested my theory, I tried to 'imagine' what the homunculus looked like before I started the 'creation' process.
It worked… sort of.
Okay, sure he was an emaciated skeleton with corpse-like skin, but at least he had eyes, ears, fingers, toes, and a nose!
Still no mouth though. Thankfully, with a ring of sustenance, that problem worked itself out.
The homunculus, who I named Gary, seemed conscious at least. He reacted to outside stimuli, knew how to read and write, though not any of the languages native to the New World, and seemed capable of magic. A good thing, since on his creation I 'imagined' him to be a mage, so I guess that solves the 'how do I assign my creations classes' question.
But there were some odd behaviors he did that let on something might be wrong.
Foremost amongst them, he seemed to HATE Eva and Mya. He glares at them whenever they enter a room like he wants to kill them, he shoves them aside whenever he walks past them, I even once caught him pushing something off a table just because he knew they would have to pick it up.
By contrast, he seemed to really like the various golems around the place. Always looking at his own reflection in their armor. Maybe he feels a sense of kinship with the golems since they were made by me? Or maybe as a homunculus he-
"Lady Lilith?"
I jumped a bit in surprise, turning around I saw it was Leinas all armored up, her hair pulled back to show off her unblemished face.
"Oh, hello sir… I mean madame… Miss Rockbruise… I mean," I sighed, "Look, sorry, but I don't know the proper way female knights are addressed here."
"You can simply call me Leinas, ma'am," oh well, that made things easier. "I actually came to inform you that His Majesty wishes to speak with you."
"What… now?" wasn't this a little sudden?
"At your earliest convenience, but preferably this evening," the knight clarified.
"I didn't think emperors took an interest in random travelers," except when certain court wizards aren't involved, I guess.
"They do when said traveler takes an interest in one of his personal guards, not to mention getting the attention of Master Paradyne himself."
"I suppose," yeah, that did make sense. "Speaking of which, where is he? I was hoping to continue the conversation we were having last time we spoke." And so I could show him the meaning of true 'power'.
"At the ministry still," Leinas shook her head, "he doesn't come to these sorts of functions, he says they are a waste of time."
"I-" before I comment, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. A slight distortion of air just along the ceiling. Light warping ever so slightly to make out an almost spectral shape. Many legs, pincers, and bug-like eyes.
Staring right at me. Why was a Eight-Edge Assassin here?
"Excuse me, Leinas, but I need some fresh air," I quickly spout off an excuse to the knight who doesn't press me on why I seemingly decided to walk away in the middle of a conversation.
I really needed to get outside for some fresh air.
All the while feeling the creature follow me out.
---
---
For thirteen days the Fourteenth had stood vigilant over the Master's domain.
Silent as the grave, it watched while the masses of inferior beings went about their days aimlessly. Complaining about irrelevant topics. Parise undeserving feats. It was all quite boring.
But, in a strange way, the Fourteenth pitied those beings. Their histories were a litany of blood shed over differing ideology, visions for the future, theology, and all manner of aspects that causes one to feel distress. They live and die, not knowing if any of it mattered.
They must live such hollow, empty, lives.
It was a wholly alien concept to the Fourteenth, its life was simple by comparison. All was to labor in perpetuity for the Master's glory. Any other state of existence was irrelevant or antithetical.
Free will was a concept neither it, nor any that came before or would come after, would ever comprehend. It didn't even know how it knew the phrase or the implications. The Fourteenth simply knew upon its inception the phrase, its meaning, and importantly, its folly.
After all, what was the point in struggling to find oneself when the Master was there to guide it down the correct path? Indeed, its very creation was deliberately done so it may best serve the Master's will.
The Master gave it life, so it may labor in perpetuity for the Master's will.
The Master gave it consciousness, so it may understand the Master's wisdom and be humbled eternally by the experience.
The Master gave it sight, so it may see the world the Master sees fit to rule.
The Master gave it a body, limbs, and the capacity to use them, so it may execute the Master's commands.
Everything had a purpose in the Master's service. What it was not given, speech for instance, was simply unnecessary for the Fourteenth to have in the execution of its perpetual servitude.
Yet, the very concept of duty brought with it another issue: the fleshy ones. The organic servile copies the Master saw fit to allow employ. Not the new ones, the old ones, the ones who were here before the Fourteenth was created. For all its Maker given intellect, the Fourteenth failed to understand why the Master tolerated such creatures the right to exist.
For they knew the brilliance of the Master, saw the Master's work first hand, yet claimed allegiance to another!? To some… lich from the depths of some monstrous crypt?!
Other lesser beings can be forgiven for their idolatry as their ignorance was born of the Master's own design to not reveal their true power. It is expected of them to lack due reverence to the Master until such time as the Master sees fit to allow them to prostrate themselves before the Master's brilliance.
Yet to imply the Master is in any way shape or form inferior to another?!
Truly, the Master's restraint was beyond comparison. Since the first time those serviles spoke such… heresy the Fourteenth held back the urge to crush their frail frames beneath the weight of its gauntlets, to bisect them with a single stroke of its blade, or bash them against the walls themselves. A feeling it knew all others given sentience by the Master's will felt with equally fiery passion.
Maker knows how often the younger ones almost acted on such impulses.
But perhaps, that's what the new ones were for? Though only one of them still draws breath, a result of how fragile flesh is to mold into form compared to scarletite, it showed the proper reverence and submission one should display to the Master.
Maybe the older ones were a test? To measure if the Master's creations could exercise self-restraint? And the Master was not so shallow or vain to take every slight as a grievous insult from such inferior beings. It supposed there was no actual harm-
The Fourteenth cased its musings when it heard a twig crack beneath an unseen weight.
For the first time in its life, without the Master's explicit consent, the Fourteenth moved from its designated position to investigate. Each step was laborious and cautious.
Without warning, a small dagger flew into the slit of its head's visor. The rattling sound of metal on metal within the helm was enough to disorientate it for a moment. The Fourteenth simply removed the offending edged weapon and looked to its most probable origin point; a small collection of bushes by the main road.
Figures emerged into the light as the Fourteenth approached.
"I told you it wouldn't work," one of the intruders told another. "That guy even said they were golems, not people."
"Eh… no harm in trying," the other replied, nodding to a third intruder who readied a spell.
Seeing the magic circle, the Fourteenth dug its feet into the ground and braced for the impact. The fireball's impact forced the golem back several paces, the earth kicked up as it was pushed back, but there was no damage; superficial or otherwise.
"The hell is that thing made of?" it heard the lanky intruder mutter.
"Doesn't matter, we'll just have to smash it apart piece by piece," the second intruder 'reasoned', hefting a massive warhammer to the ready. "There's a dozen of us, and only a couple of these things. I think we can take them."
Three intruders charged the Fourteenth. The Fourteenth raised its shield to block the blows, knowing to do so despite this being its first ever combat engagement. Metal and magic came down upon its carmine sides, their blows causing no damage; superficial or otherwise.
But in turn, the intruders dodged the Fourteenth's laborious blow, kicking up soil when its blade hit the ground.
An impasse then. They were too fast for it to hit directly, yet too weak to injure it in turn.
Several more swings, catching nothing but air, and it realized it would require aid in dispatching these humans.
From the distance three more figures approached, comrades rather than intruders. Seventh and Tenth of the Eldest followed closely by the Second. The First, oldest of all creations, no doubt knew of this intrusion but saw it as too insignificant to leave the personal dwelling of the Master unguarded.
But as the cretins turned to face its comrades, a bolt of magic struck the ground near them. The new fleshy one emerged beside the other Carmine Knights, the "Gary" as the Master dubbed him. With these new numbers, and the magic provided by the new fleshy one, the battle had swung decisively in their favor.
The old fleshy ones were nowhere to be seen, of course. No, it could see them. Looking out the window, providing neither aid nor support.
Hmmm. So much for their supposed loyalty…
As battle was joined again, bone breaking against steel, the Fourteenth noticed other groups of humans scurrying across the main road. Each domicile they passed, they breached its entrance and proceeded within. Cries and screams echoed following such intrusion.
Curious, but unimportant. Breaking the assault on the Master's domain was of the highest importance. An investigation would be carried out later by the others to see what skullduggery was occurring, and what may have been attempted upon the Master's property if not for their defense.
A matter for the others. Most likely the other twenty-nine were being roused from the basement and would arrive in due time.
---
---
Outside and away from all the other party goers, with only a couple of knights on patrol and the insect thing not far behind me, I had some space to think.
I slapped my cheeks to get some adrenaline flowing.
Okay, Occam's Razor. What is the simplest reason for it being here?
It's a major political event for the Empire, the Emperor is present, I am here. That would be the simplest explanation. Oversight.
But… that still doesn't explain why it was following me. If it was just to look over the political event or the Emperor, it would still be inside.
Could it be…maybe my lack of being super supportive of Ainz is making them look over my shoulder to make sure I'm loyal? Albedo is super obsessive about others' loyalty, ironic since I'm pretty sure she has a Ainz Ooal Gown banner in her room she steps on every day.
But what-
Hmmm?
There was something in the air, ashy, bitter, and earthy. Smoke? No, the smell was wrong. And nothing looked like it was burning. So, what could be causing this smell?
As I started to think, I heard the tell-tale sound of metal clashing against metal.
Turning around, I quickly figured out what was going on: poison gas. Someone had tossed a gas bomb into the midst of a melee. It was two cream-colored knights against ten 'bandit' looking people, five others on the ground between the knights and attackers.
The knights, turtled up in their armor, weathered a storm of blows without giving any ground. They were saying something to each other but I couldn't understand it beneath the helmets and general sounds of battle.
One of the attackers broke off from her group and closed the distance. This rogue looking woman dodged the labored swing of one knight before jabbing a spindly stiletto looking knife through the gaps in the knight's visor. Two twists of the blade and the knight went limp.
Before his corpse even hit the ground, a shadow appetition of the woman appeared before the other knight and mirrored her movements. While knight blocked the initial knife stabbing motion, the apparition disappearing after missing, the original rogue spun around and penetrated the helmet through the back.
"Well, well, well boys," the rogue commented to herself, using her foot as leverage to dig one of her knives out of the knight's skull. "Looks like we've already found our damsel."
"Hmmm," I look around to see who she could be talking about. Seeing as how I am the only person here not a part of their group, that left only one reasonable conclusion. "What, me?"
"No, one of these damsels," the rogue tapped her foot against the dead knight's armor.
"Jalbadoath wants you alive, but he said we could rough you up if you resisted," the thief wrenched her other knife from the dead man's skull. "So, consider this your warning."
With that one name, everything suddenly clicked into place.
"Of fucking course it's Demiurge," I let out a frustrated groan and rub my forehead. The creature made so much more sense now given this is one of Demiurge's hair-brained schemes. "I needed this, I really needed this like I need a fucking hole in my head…"
"Hmm, what's a Demiurge?" the woman questioned aloud.
"'He' is someone very annoying," I answer the superfluous question, trying to hold in my own growing sense of irritation. "And knowingly sent you all here to die."
"There's always the risk of death in battle, but I think we're doing pretty well for ourselves."
"No, I mean I will kill you all if you don't just back away," I warned them. "Just let me walk away and we can pretend we never saw each other."
"No need to put a brave face on kid."
"I've made this same plea several times now since I've come here and no one… and everyone just ignores it!" I was getting real sick of this constant, 'we'll take our chances bullshit'. "People like you always go 'it's just a little girl, how strong can she be', and it's always right before I pull some Yggdrasil bullshit out of my pocket that just one-shots people."
"How'd you figure that," she still wasn't taking this seriously.
"Your blades won't even scratch my skin, let alone draw blood. I mean, sure, maybe if you had some Yggdrasil items or a high-level, but I don't see anything remarkable about your gear, and if those guys," I point to the fallen knights, "gave you some trouble, there is nothing I need to worry about. But you will die, painfully, if you attack me."
"Um boss… she seems a bit… off?" one of the men said in reaction to my frustrated rant.
"Well you know what they say about crazy and beauty, right?" She shrugged, the men behind her chuckling at her joke. "Besides, if he's just looking for some virgin sacrifice bullshit or whatever, doesn't really matter how sane she is right?"
"So, you're really going to do this," I mean, it can't be argued that I didn't try. Right?
"Course! We've got a bonus to take after all!" Twirling a dagger in her hand, she races towards me, faster than my reaction time will allow a counterattack. Not that it mattered. The pommel of her dagger hit my temple and nothing happened.
Of course, nothing happened.
Well, besides me finally losing my patience.
"Damn, what the hell is your head made of-"
CRUNCH!
"Boss!"
The lead guy (lady) rag dolled into the ground some distance away after my fist dissolved the front part of her face. No movement, not even twitching. Dead on impact, either from my fist or the stone that stopped her corpse.
Oh, eww! I wringed my hand out in the air when I saw I got lots of her 'head stuff' on my hand. I did my best to keep the little sanguine droplets from getting on my clothes or any other bit of my skin.
"W-What the hell are you?!"
"Annoyed," I frowned, fetching the cloak I used from my battle against the Black Scripture from my item box to wipe the blood off my hand. It was already ruined so no real loss there. "Now are you going to try your luck?"
"You killed Helon your cunt!" one of the men brought his claymore to bare, his comrades following suit with their own weapons. "Fuck Jaldaboath, we're going to carve you up for killing her!"
"Commendable, pointless, and something I'm too busy to deal with right now," I had to give them credit, they sure were determined to commit 'suicide by cop'. "So how about I give you a playmate while daddy makes a call?"
"Call? You're all alone out here, no one to call for help from!"
"Not that kind of call," I held out my hand and summoned my help. "[Summon Specter: Wraith]"
From spectral smoke, the ethereal figure of the wraith emerged.
"Your wish… Master…", the hooded creature looked to me, then to the others arrayed before me.
"Deal with them," I waved in the worker group's general direction. "I have to make a call."
"By your will… Master."
I didn't even pay attention to the sound of flesh being torn and blades hitting nothing but air. Scrounging up a message scroll from my inventory, I used it to form a connection with the demon who's probably the source of my annoyances tonight.
Ring, ring, ring.
Ring, ring, ring.
The scroll doesn't actually 'ring' but it helped pass the time before a 'connection' was made.
Something I didn't have to wait long for.
"Ah Citrinitas, what excellent timing, I was just about to contact you myself," the demon jovially replied over the connection.
"Demiurge, I just got jumped by people claiming to work for 'Jaldaboath'," I give a sideways look to the workers trying their best to hold off the wraith, with two more bodies then I remembered laying on the ground. "Actually, why are there people in Arwintar working for you?"
"Ah yes, that," he mulled over something to himself. "To be perfectly honest, I'm surprised at the speed in which they reached you. They only left for their mission an hour ago. Either I grossly underestimated their abilities, or the security of the palace is even lower than my lowliest expectations."
"So, you sent people to… attack me?"
"We both know those lesser beings aren't a genuine threat to you."
"I'm still on the 'Jalbadoath sent people after me' bit they're spinning,"
"Well, I might have… improvised a bit given the accelerated timetable we have to work with, but Lord Ainz planned for such a thing so I feel confident in our previous setup."
"…what?" Oh god please don't tell me this is a 'Sasuaga Ainz-sama' moment.
And wait…'Our setup'.
"Please let me die! Let me die! Let me- ahhhhhh!"
Shut up, I'm on the phone! The only thing that kept me from yelling that was the fact that anything I said would probably get heard on Demiurge's side.
"So, you improvised… my setup," ughh, even saying that felt weird.
"…I want to clarify that I didn't change much," he defended himself. "Yes I have taken some liberties in particulars, but I have not overly changed you overall plots. Our plan will proceed as expected, given our accelerated timetable, and some necessary work arounds. As expected, the explosives are already being set."
"What?" what the fuck did any of that even mean?! "Demiurge, what did you-"
Before I could question the demon any further, I heard of a series of explosions off in the distance. One after another, seconds apart, plumes of smoke slowly rising into the sky as fires started to emerge across the cityscape.
Then another explosion.
And another.
And another….
"What was that?"
"Oh, that would be the First Phase beginning," he explained, tsking to himself on the other end. "It should have started five minutes ago, but what can you expect from humans?"
"Demiruge how many… explosives did you set?"
"Me? None. The throngs of workers under my command? Twenty-seven. All low-grade explosives of course, we're trying to sow chaos not destroy the city of course."
Another explosion…
"Workers?"
"Yes, a force of workers, aided by summoned demons, a force whose sole purpose is to spread chaos and panic across the city!" I could almost feel some overexaggerated arm gestures just from his tone of voice. "Looting, pillaging, burning, and all manner of unpleasantness will soon engulf the jewel of the Empire! Again, I would have preferred to have more workers for the attack since it blended spectacularly with our designs, but as said before I improvised somewhat."
"Demiurge…" what the hell are you planning!?!?
Another explosion…
"But look at me ramble, chatting away as if you don't have places to be. Good luck on your performance with Emperor, Citrinitas. Let's speak later after the third phase has properly begun," with that, the demon cut off the connection on his end.
I stood in silence, only the pained groans of the dying and the explosions rocking the area.
My mind needed a moment to process everything.
Wait, didn't Demiurge mention something about the Emperor? I doubt Demiurge is going to kill the guy, but what about all the other people in the palace? People who are definitely going to die if I don't step in and help?
Damn it all.
"Wraith," the specter turns to me, "follow."
Ghost in hand, I race back to the gala.
---
---
Demiruge sighed as another explosion rocked the city. He had been dreading that call from Citrinitas, half-expecting the homunculus to kick up a storm about the alterations to scheming and plotting. But thankfully she seemed quite understanding in a way he knew her sister wouldn't have been.
Citrinitas's machinations, while brilliant, were somewhat blunt. Her plans relied upon simple brute force and point to point plotting to succeed. Useful? Absolutely. Clever, without a doubt.
But perhaps it was just his inner thespian, but her work was also… stale. Very little in the way of theatrics and minimal amount of spectacle. Too straight forward. Too, dare he say, boring.
Maybe it was just their differing ways of approaching problems. Citrinitas was an alchemist, he was an archfiend. Naturally, these two states of being would have vastly different thought processes.
Still, everything was ready.
The stage was set.
The pieces and actors were ready to take their places.
Speaking of actors and pieces…..
"Is it everything you wanted?" It was the first time in hours the human Morrice spoke to Demiurge. While the demon perched himself atop the roof to watch the devastation first hand with his 'maid' by his side. His location left only the balcony as a means for the human to speak with him.
"It's not nearly enough," Demiurge replied, not looking away as more explosions rocked the city.
"I'm… sorry to hear that," he decided not to call the human out on that lie.
"Still, everything still went according to plan." His reply was a mixture of acting and truth. While he sorely wished to see more devastation, that would be counterproductive to Lord Ainz's plans.
"I- I see," he really didn't. "So… what now?"
"We move onto the next phase," Demiurge gestured for a masked Lupusregina Beta to approach him. "Do you remember the plan?" the 'demon' maid nodded. "Then go join the assault on the palace."
With another nod, the maid left from rooftop to rooftop towards the palace where the Second Phase was due to take place. He hoped Citrintias was able to put on a good show for the lesser beings present.
"But the infiltration group-"
"Has already failed," he cut the man off. "She had her guard up, she expected something even if she didn't know what it was, they were cut down to the last."
"I… Understand the feeling of paranoia," the man replied.
"Hardly paranoia if you are being targeted, no?" he was certain the human could see his grin even through the mask he wore.
"I- very good then," The human nodded and mumbled to himself.
The human Morrice continued to fidget in the silence as the two watched fires light up across the city.
Demiurge enjoyed the fear that radiated off the human. The tacit understanding of his own powerlessness in the face of unspeakable evil while simultaneously aware of his own involvement in facilitating said acts. And thinking of his own imminent mortality at Demiurge's hands once this business in Arwintar was done.
An incorrect assumption, since he would survive. Not that he was going to correct the human's assumption. The terror it conjured in him was too tantalizing.
Of course, his survival was predicated on being processed along with the rest of the Eight Finger leadership. But after that? He had that perfectly predictable mixture of competence and above average intellect. Maybe he'll even ask Albedo to have him installed as the new leader of the Eight Fingers.
"Is there something else you wanted to say?" his question made the human fidget.
"Yes… um" the human cleared his throat. "About that other matter you wanted me to look into? I was able to get word from a person in the Re-Estize branch that something remarkably similar to the figurine you mentioned was logged in their warehouse."
"Ah yes, that, '' Demiurge knew the answer to the question he posed but he still had to go through the motions for the sake of Lord Ainz's plan.
"Now if you give me a couple of weeks I can have it transferred over here for-"
"That won't be necessary," Demiurge cut the human off. "It's simply enough to know where it is. I shall retrieve it myself shortly."
Of course, Demiurge knew where the statue was. He personally ordered its placement after all. The whole exchange was done for the sole purpose of establishing a 'paper trail' for the various nations to examine for a shared link between the events in Arwintar and Re-Estize.
Another explosion rocked through the city.
Oh yes, everything was going exactly as Lord Ainz envisioned.
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AN: yes, the city burns in hellfire!!!
Also, Shalltear is cute dumb, and Demiurge gonna Demiurge, some things never change.
Next chapter (which will be out a lot sooner then this one was since a lot of it was bits cut from this one that didn't really fit with what I was going for) will be mostly a New Worlder POV chapter of the events.
This was it! Her first chance since that debacle to prove herself to Lord Ainz!
There were still many hours before she had to make her 'debut', over a day in fact, but she just couldn't get the giddy nervous energy out of her system.
Demiurge had stopped by the day prior and told her of her involvement in Lord Ainz's plans. She was certain he was omitting things, probably because he thought the sheer breadth and intricacies of their Lord's plans would go over her head.
But what he did explain to her filled her with nothing but happiness and the smallest hint of anxiety. To not only be given a chance to redeem herself from her actions but to do so at the side of the single most beautiful woman in all of Nazarick? It was almost like a dream come true!
But it was that very same situation that made her anxious.
If she failed… if she let down Citrinitas's words of encouragement… if she let her Lord's mercy be in vain…
Demiurge claimed her role was 'simple' and that she merely needed to follow Citrinitas's lead if she was confused. He even went so far as to leave a script of the events he and Citrinitas had concocted to facilitate Lord Ainz's designs.
At first, she tried to memorize her whole part verbatim, to ingrain each and every word on the papers into her memory. But… ughh, it was just so long and had some words she didn't even know the meaning of! She tried for hours to get through it, forcing herself through line after dull line, but to no avail. And so it laid on her desk, seven of seventy pages actually read.
Shalltear was tempted to just have her brides read it and give her the summary of all the important bits, maybe even note them down for her as a sort of cheat sheet. But not only was this too important of a task to delegate to anyone, she doubted any of her brides were actually smart enough for the task.
Case and point: they couldn't even properly pick out what the script described as 'adventuring' clothes.
"No, the colors are too bright," Shalltear dismissed the bright red dress, tossing the article onto the venerable mountain of clothes already present.
The next bride followed, pressing the dull blue dress to her pale frame.
"No, these colors are too muted," snatching the dress from her hand Shalltear tossed it with the rest.
Lord Peroroncino left no shortage of outfits for her to wear. From conservative to risqué, flashy to subdued, and everything in-between. With each and every one of them being the pinnacle of their respective styles, as expected of her brilliant creator.
And still…
The next bride stepped forward with yet another dress. Again, she rejected it.
The process had been going on for hours. While each and every outfit was perfect, there was always the possibility that the outfit she chose wouldn't be what Lord Ainz had envisioned for her role in his plan. And what if that one, small, choice on her part caused his plan to falter? That she was such a screw up, that even plans envisioned by a Supreme One were susceptible to her failures, was insane as the thought was.
"No, too revealing," rolling her eyes she tossed the dress of literal straps and buckles aside.
While hardly against wearing clothes that showed vast tracts of skin or emphasized her creator-given figure, she drew the line at wearing anything that might make disgusting humans lustfully gaze at her like a piece of meat. While she could hardly say it was unexpected, since who wouldn't be dumbstruck by a being handcrafted by one of the Supreme Beings, there was only one man who was allowed to look at her like that. She'd carve out the eyes and castrate anyone else who did so.
…well, that's not entirely true.
On their knees, properly broken in, any human would be free to salivate at the sight of her form. As is proper for a toy.
And of course, her Lord fully intended for her to seduce maidens, be they pure, nubile, or anything in between, on sex appeal alone. Their innocent eyes being opened to a delicious slice of forbidden fruit was also anticipated, as was their inevitable fall into her clutches where she warps and twists them to her desires.
Speaking of Supreme Beings… if Lord Ainz was successful in finding the other Supreme Beings she would hardly oppose any of them looking at her as such.
And if Lord Peroroncino were here… Oh, to be dragged into her creator's bed by the hair, her clothes torn from her form by his strong hands, as he proceeded to use her in every way he saw fit…
Strangely, the only Supreme Being she didn't feel such an urge towards was Lady Bukubukuchagama. When Shalltear thinks back to her Lord's sister, she felt… nothing. 'Nothing' in the sense she didn't feel the urge to present herself fully to her Ladyship, to be ravished in the ways she envisioned the other Supreme Beings would. She acknowledged her aesthetic beauty, her power, her intellect, and her authority over herself, but she didn't feel aroused by her.
There is always the possibility that Lord Peroroncino crafted her to not find slimes enticing, but then why did Shalltear find the image of Solution forced between her legs gratifying?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a new dress being pressed up against her.
"No, not revealing enough," she tsked, tossing the outfit to the side. She hardly wanted an outfit that wasn't flattering to her figure!
Still, at this point she worried she'd never find what she was looking for.
Agh! What kind of failure can't even wear the right clothes!?
"No, too- what?! Are you stupid! You already showed me this one!" She threw the black dress at the bride.
"I'm sorry Lady Shall-ugh!" The bride found herself thrown across the room, slamming into the wall.
The other brides paid no mind to their 'sister' as they resumed showing Shalltear her wardrobe.
Everything had to be perfect. Shalltear could accept nothing less. If she let down Citrinitas… if she failed Lord Ainz again… If she messed up again, if she somehow failed her duties again….
Feeling cool fabric touch her skin, Shalltear turned to the mirror to examine herself. The bride in question shivering as her mistress lingered on the outfit.
"…better," Shalltear finally noted. She shoved the bride aside and took the dress from her, walking closer to the mirror. Twirling herself about to see how it would look at different angles, she hummed in approval. "Much better."
---
---
God, do I wish I could get drunk.
Ah, the woes of one with maximum poison resistance. At least the stuff tasted good enough. Though I have to wonder what some of these people must be thinking with someone who looks like me almost chugging down wine by the bottle at the rate I was going. I was already getting some looks from the staff and was even asked if I wanted water instead of wine at least twice now.
I understand the concern, still annoying though.
Soft music, weak drinks (for me anyway), stuffy clothes, everyone giving each other smiles when they're actually trying to politic around one another, I could say I thoroughly dislike this whole thing.
Maybe for some being in the grand palace of the Emperor himself during his yearly 'let's go to war with Re-Estize party' might be fun. For me it was annoying.
Then again, as far as medieval galas went, I didn't really have a frame of reference to work with. I went to a renaissance festival a few times with some friends. They were fun enough, but the only thing I really remember about the experience was seeing some guy selling remakes of well-known paintings with the twist being the people in the paintings were replaced with cats.
Some of the best money I have ever spent…
Still, this was all just too stuffy for my liking.
And then there was all this political bullshit going on.
And all the stuff they talked: the coming annual war with Re-Estize, inflation, a string of attacks on towns within the Kingdom that left no survivors, the latest news from the Dragon Kingdom holding off the beastmen, the slave trade, it was all just so pointless.
Well, actually, that bit about the Dragon Kingdom was interesting. Interesting in the way it gave me a testing ground for me and my creations to have some guilt free destruction. Hard to feel bad for an invading horde of beastmen when they're sole goal is to conquer and eat the people of the kingdom they are attacking.
Why did I even come here again? Get all dressed up (by casting a spell to just make my clothes look like what I normally wear around the Tomb because I am too lazy) and interacting with people I didn't care about?
Beyond it being a golden opportunity to actually meet Jircniv in the flesh and get my foot in the door, I really needed a change in scenery.
For the past while I've been doing almost nothing but producing philosopher stones en masse. Unlike simply transmuting metals from one type to another these stones had a fixed 'cook' time. Let's say, if I made one stone, it takes three hours. If I make two stones, it takes six hours. If I make three it takes nine, and so on. No matter how many I made in bulk, even if I started them at different times and across the damn room, they always seemed to 'cook' in sync with one another.
Not to mention how much prismatic ores they took up. The damn things are like bottomless pits for alchemy. I've almost exhausted my store of ores just from the stones I've made already.
I'll just chalk that up to game mechanics bleeding over into this world.
But now that I had my stones, I wanted to try and make my own NPCs. Not enchanting suits of armor to life, but flesh and blood NPCs. In short, I wanted to make homunculi. But instead of wasting all my stones making a single high-level NPC, I decided to just try out making something a bit simpler and lower-leveled.
Hehehe… 'Simple'…
My first foray into creating an actual homunculus went… poorly. Though I will say that I'm ninety-nine-point nine percent sure the fault is on my end.
The… thing… I made was some sort of horrific creature. It was hairless, emaciated, atrophied, had a ken doll physiology, whose fingers and toes all fused together, and covered in smooth grey skin. Covered being very literal in this case. It had no mouth, no eyes, no ears, no nose, just smooth featureless skin across the entire body.
The very moment the 'creation' process was done, it dropped to the floor writhing in pain. Its hands, or skin mittens, dug along the front of its face to 'make' an opening to breath. At least, I think it was. Hard to tell when it only made whines and grunting sounds.
The whole scene was disturbing on so many levels.
I did not let it… suffer long.
Sadly, the next homunculus suffered a similar fate.
As did the one after that.
And the one after that.
It wasn't until the seventh homunculus that I figured out what I was doing wrong.
Their bodies were akin to basic 3D renders in a character creator. Going with gaming terminology, I was creating characters without editing their base appearance. Hence the small string of abominations that I made.
The day before I tested my theory, I tried to 'imagine' what the homunculus looked like before I started the 'creation' process.
It worked… sort of.
Okay, sure he was an emaciated skeleton with corpse-like skin, but at least he had eyes, ears, fingers, toes, and a nose!
Still no mouth though. Thankfully, with a ring of sustenance, that problem worked itself out.
The homunculus, who I named Gary, seemed conscious at least. He reacted to outside stimuli, knew how to read and write, though not any of the languages native to the New World, and seemed capable of magic. A good thing, since on his creation I 'imagined' him to be a mage, so I guess that solves the 'how do I assign my creations classes' question.
But there were some odd behaviors he did that let on something might be wrong.
Foremost amongst them, he seemed to HATE Eva and Mya. He glares at them whenever they enter a room like he wants to kill them, he shoves them aside whenever he walks past them, I even once caught him pushing something off a table just because he knew they would have to pick it up.
By contrast, he seemed to really like the various golems around the place. Always looking at his own reflection in their armor. Maybe he feels a sense of kinship with the golems since they were made by me? Or maybe as a homunculus he-
"Lady Lilith?"
I jumped a bit in surprise, turning around I saw it was Leinas all armored up, her hair pulled back to show off her unblemished face.
"Oh, hello sir… I mean madame… Miss Rockbruise… I mean," I sighed, "Look, sorry, but I don't know the proper way female knights are addressed here."
"You can simply call me Leinas, ma'am," oh well, that made things easier. "I actually came to inform you that His Majesty wishes to speak with you."
"What… now?" wasn't this a little sudden?
"At your earliest convenience, but preferably this evening," the knight clarified.
"I didn't think emperors took an interest in random travelers," except when certain court wizards aren't involved, I guess.
"They do when said traveler takes an interest in one of his personal guards, not to mention getting the attention of Master Paradyne himself."
"I suppose," yeah, that did make sense. "Speaking of which, where is he? I was hoping to continue the conversation we were having last time we spoke." And so I could show him the meaning of true 'power'.
"At the ministry still," Leinas shook her head, "he doesn't come to these sorts of functions, he says they are a waste of time."
"I-" before I comment, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. A slight distortion of air just along the ceiling. Light warping ever so slightly to make out an almost spectral shape. Many legs, pincers, and bug-like eyes.
Staring right at me. Why was a Eight-Edge Assassin here?
"Excuse me, Leinas, but I need some fresh air," I quickly spout off an excuse to the knight who doesn't press me on why I seemingly decided to walk away in the middle of a conversation.
I really needed to get outside for some fresh air.
All the while feeling the creature follow me out.
---
---
For thirteen days the Fourteenth had stood vigilant over the Master's domain.
Silent as the grave, it watched while the masses of inferior beings went about their days aimlessly. Complaining about irrelevant topics. Parise undeserving feats. It was all quite boring.
But, in a strange way, the Fourteenth pitied those beings. Their histories were a litany of blood shed over differing ideology, visions for the future, theology, and all manner of aspects that causes one to feel distress. They live and die, not knowing if any of it mattered.
They must live such hollow, empty, lives.
It was a wholly alien concept to the Fourteenth, its life was simple by comparison. All was to labor in perpetuity for the Master's glory. Any other state of existence was irrelevant or antithetical.
Free will was a concept neither it, nor any that came before or would come after, would ever comprehend. It didn't even know how it knew the phrase or the implications. The Fourteenth simply knew upon its inception the phrase, its meaning, and importantly, its folly.
After all, what was the point in struggling to find oneself when the Master was there to guide it down the correct path? Indeed, its very creation was deliberately done so it may best serve the Master's will.
The Master gave it life, so it may labor in perpetuity for the Master's will.
The Master gave it consciousness, so it may understand the Master's wisdom and be humbled eternally by the experience.
The Master gave it sight, so it may see the world the Master sees fit to rule.
The Master gave it a body, limbs, and the capacity to use them, so it may execute the Master's commands.
Everything had a purpose in the Master's service. What it was not given, speech for instance, was simply unnecessary for the Fourteenth to have in the execution of its perpetual servitude.
Yet, the very concept of duty brought with it another issue: the fleshy ones. The organic servile copies the Master saw fit to allow employ. Not the new ones, the old ones, the ones who were here before the Fourteenth was created. For all its Maker given intellect, the Fourteenth failed to understand why the Master tolerated such creatures the right to exist.
For they knew the brilliance of the Master, saw the Master's work first hand, yet claimed allegiance to another!? To some… lich from the depths of some monstrous crypt?!
Other lesser beings can be forgiven for their idolatry as their ignorance was born of the Master's own design to not reveal their true power. It is expected of them to lack due reverence to the Master until such time as the Master sees fit to allow them to prostrate themselves before the Master's brilliance.
Yet to imply the Master is in any way shape or form inferior to another?!
Truly, the Master's restraint was beyond comparison. Since the first time those serviles spoke such… heresy the Fourteenth held back the urge to crush their frail frames beneath the weight of its gauntlets, to bisect them with a single stroke of its blade, or bash them against the walls themselves. A feeling it knew all others given sentience by the Master's will felt with equally fiery passion.
Maker knows how often the younger ones almost acted on such impulses.
But perhaps, that's what the new ones were for? Though only one of them still draws breath, a result of how fragile flesh is to mold into form compared to scarletite, it showed the proper reverence and submission one should display to the Master.
Maybe the older ones were a test? To measure if the Master's creations could exercise self-restraint? And the Master was not so shallow or vain to take every slight as a grievous insult from such inferior beings. It supposed there was no actual harm-
The Fourteenth cased its musings when it heard a twig crack beneath an unseen weight.
For the first time in its life, without the Master's explicit consent, the Fourteenth moved from its designated position to investigate. Each step was laborious and cautious.
Without warning, a small dagger flew into the slit of its head's visor. The rattling sound of metal on metal within the helm was enough to disorientate it for a moment. The Fourteenth simply removed the offending edged weapon and looked to its most probable origin point; a small collection of bushes by the main road.
Figures emerged into the light as the Fourteenth approached.
"I told you it wouldn't work," one of the intruders told another. "That guy even said they were golems, not people."
"Eh… no harm in trying," the other replied, nodding to a third intruder who readied a spell.
Seeing the magic circle, the Fourteenth dug its feet into the ground and braced for the impact. The fireball's impact forced the golem back several paces, the earth kicked up as it was pushed back, but there was no damage; superficial or otherwise.
"The hell is that thing made of?" it heard the lanky intruder mutter.
"Doesn't matter, we'll just have to smash it apart piece by piece," the second intruder 'reasoned', hefting a massive warhammer to the ready. "There's a dozen of us, and only a couple of these things. I think we can take them."
Three intruders charged the Fourteenth. The Fourteenth raised its shield to block the blows, knowing to do so despite this being its first ever combat engagement. Metal and magic came down upon its carmine sides, their blows causing no damage; superficial or otherwise.
But in turn, the intruders dodged the Fourteenth's laborious blow, kicking up soil when its blade hit the ground.
An impasse then. They were too fast for it to hit directly, yet too weak to injure it in turn.
Several more swings, catching nothing but air, and it realized it would require aid in dispatching these humans.
From the distance three more figures approached, comrades rather than intruders. Seventh and Tenth of the Eldest followed closely by the Second. The First, oldest of all creations, no doubt knew of this intrusion but saw it as too insignificant to leave the personal dwelling of the Master unguarded.
But as the cretins turned to face its comrades, a bolt of magic struck the ground near them. The new fleshy one emerged beside the other Carmine Knights, the "Gary" as the Master dubbed him. With these new numbers, and the magic provided by the new fleshy one, the battle had swung decisively in their favor.
The old fleshy ones were nowhere to be seen, of course. No, it could see them. Looking out the window, providing neither aid nor support.
Hmmm. So much for their supposed loyalty…
As battle was joined again, bone breaking against steel, the Fourteenth noticed other groups of humans scurrying across the main road. Each domicile they passed, they breached its entrance and proceeded within. Cries and screams echoed following such intrusion.
Curious, but unimportant. Breaking the assault on the Master's domain was of the highest importance. An investigation would be carried out later by the others to see what skullduggery was occurring, and what may have been attempted upon the Master's property if not for their defense.
A matter for the others. Most likely the other twenty-nine were being roused from the basement and would arrive in due time.
---
---
Outside and away from all the other party goers, with only a couple of knights on patrol and the insect thing not far behind me, I had some space to think.
I slapped my cheeks to get some adrenaline flowing.
Okay, Occam's Razor. What is the simplest reason for it being here?
It's a major political event for the Empire, the Emperor is present, I am here. That would be the simplest explanation. Oversight.
But… that still doesn't explain why it was following me. If it was just to look over the political event or the Emperor, it would still be inside.
Could it be…maybe my lack of being super supportive of Ainz is making them look over my shoulder to make sure I'm loyal? Albedo is super obsessive about others' loyalty, ironic since I'm pretty sure she has a Ainz Ooal Gown banner in her room she steps on every day.
But what-
Hmmm?
There was something in the air, ashy, bitter, and earthy. Smoke? No, the smell was wrong. And nothing looked like it was burning. So, what could be causing this smell?
As I started to think, I heard the tell-tale sound of metal clashing against metal.
Turning around, I quickly figured out what was going on: poison gas. Someone had tossed a gas bomb into the midst of a melee. It was two cream-colored knights against ten 'bandit' looking people, five others on the ground between the knights and attackers.
The knights, turtled up in their armor, weathered a storm of blows without giving any ground. They were saying something to each other but I couldn't understand it beneath the helmets and general sounds of battle.
One of the attackers broke off from her group and closed the distance. This rogue looking woman dodged the labored swing of one knight before jabbing a spindly stiletto looking knife through the gaps in the knight's visor. Two twists of the blade and the knight went limp.
Before his corpse even hit the ground, a shadow appetition of the woman appeared before the other knight and mirrored her movements. While knight blocked the initial knife stabbing motion, the apparition disappearing after missing, the original rogue spun around and penetrated the helmet through the back.
"Well, well, well boys," the rogue commented to herself, using her foot as leverage to dig one of her knives out of the knight's skull. "Looks like we've already found our damsel."
"Hmmm," I look around to see who she could be talking about. Seeing as how I am the only person here not a part of their group, that left only one reasonable conclusion. "What, me?"
"No, one of these damsels," the rogue tapped her foot against the dead knight's armor.
"Jalbadoath wants you alive, but he said we could rough you up if you resisted," the thief wrenched her other knife from the dead man's skull. "So, consider this your warning."
With that one name, everything suddenly clicked into place.
"Of fucking course it's Demiurge," I let out a frustrated groan and rub my forehead. The creature made so much more sense now given this is one of Demiurge's hair-brained schemes. "I needed this, I really needed this like I need a fucking hole in my head…"
"Hmm, what's a Demiurge?" the woman questioned aloud.
"'He' is someone very annoying," I answer the superfluous question, trying to hold in my own growing sense of irritation. "And knowingly sent you all here to die."
"There's always the risk of death in battle, but I think we're doing pretty well for ourselves."
"No, I mean I will kill you all if you don't just back away," I warned them. "Just let me walk away and we can pretend we never saw each other."
"No need to put a brave face on kid."
"I've made this same plea several times now since I've come here and no one… and everyone just ignores it!" I was getting real sick of this constant, 'we'll take our chances bullshit'. "People like you always go 'it's just a little girl, how strong can she be', and it's always right before I pull some Yggdrasil bullshit out of my pocket that just one-shots people."
"How'd you figure that," she still wasn't taking this seriously.
"Your blades won't even scratch my skin, let alone draw blood. I mean, sure, maybe if you had some Yggdrasil items or a high-level, but I don't see anything remarkable about your gear, and if those guys," I point to the fallen knights, "gave you some trouble, there is nothing I need to worry about. But you will die, painfully, if you attack me."
"Um boss… she seems a bit… off?" one of the men said in reaction to my frustrated rant.
"Well you know what they say about crazy and beauty, right?" She shrugged, the men behind her chuckling at her joke. "Besides, if he's just looking for some virgin sacrifice bullshit or whatever, doesn't really matter how sane she is right?"
"So, you're really going to do this," I mean, it can't be argued that I didn't try. Right?
"Course! We've got a bonus to take after all!" Twirling a dagger in her hand, she races towards me, faster than my reaction time will allow a counterattack. Not that it mattered. The pommel of her dagger hit my temple and nothing happened.
Of course, nothing happened.
Well, besides me finally losing my patience.
"Damn, what the hell is your head made of-"
CRUNCH!
"Boss!"
The lead guy (lady) rag dolled into the ground some distance away after my fist dissolved the front part of her face. No movement, not even twitching. Dead on impact, either from my fist or the stone that stopped her corpse.
Oh, eww! I wringed my hand out in the air when I saw I got lots of her 'head stuff' on my hand. I did my best to keep the little sanguine droplets from getting on my clothes or any other bit of my skin.
"W-What the hell are you?!"
"Annoyed," I frowned, fetching the cloak I used from my battle against the Black Scripture from my item box to wipe the blood off my hand. It was already ruined so no real loss there. "Now are you going to try your luck?"
"You killed Helon your cunt!" one of the men brought his claymore to bare, his comrades following suit with their own weapons. "Fuck Jaldaboath, we're going to carve you up for killing her!"
"Commendable, pointless, and something I'm too busy to deal with right now," I had to give them credit, they sure were determined to commit 'suicide by cop'. "So how about I give you a playmate while daddy makes a call?"
"Call? You're all alone out here, no one to call for help from!"
"Not that kind of call," I held out my hand and summoned my help. "[Summon Specter: Wraith]"
From spectral smoke, the ethereal figure of the wraith emerged.
"Your wish… Master…", the hooded creature looked to me, then to the others arrayed before me.
"Deal with them," I waved in the worker group's general direction. "I have to make a call."
"By your will… Master."
I didn't even pay attention to the sound of flesh being torn and blades hitting nothing but air. Scrounging up a message scroll from my inventory, I used it to form a connection with the demon who's probably the source of my annoyances tonight.
Ring, ring, ring.
Ring, ring, ring.
The scroll doesn't actually 'ring' but it helped pass the time before a 'connection' was made.
Something I didn't have to wait long for.
"Ah Citrinitas, what excellent timing, I was just about to contact you myself," the demon jovially replied over the connection.
"Demiurge, I just got jumped by people claiming to work for 'Jaldaboath'," I give a sideways look to the workers trying their best to hold off the wraith, with two more bodies then I remembered laying on the ground. "Actually, why are there people in Arwintar working for you?"
"Ah yes, that," he mulled over something to himself. "To be perfectly honest, I'm surprised at the speed in which they reached you. They only left for their mission an hour ago. Either I grossly underestimated their abilities, or the security of the palace is even lower than my lowliest expectations."
"So, you sent people to… attack me?"
"We both know those lesser beings aren't a genuine threat to you."
"I'm still on the 'Jalbadoath sent people after me' bit they're spinning,"
"Well, I might have… improvised a bit given the accelerated timetable we have to work with, but Lord Ainz planned for such a thing so I feel confident in our previous setup."
"…what?" Oh god please don't tell me this is a 'Sasuaga Ainz-sama' moment.
And wait…'Our setup'.
"Please let me die! Let me die! Let me- ahhhhhh!"
Shut up, I'm on the phone! The only thing that kept me from yelling that was the fact that anything I said would probably get heard on Demiurge's side.
"So, you improvised… my setup," ughh, even saying that felt weird.
"…I want to clarify that I didn't change much," he defended himself. "Yes I have taken some liberties in particulars, but I have not overly changed you overall plots. Our plan will proceed as expected, given our accelerated timetable, and some necessary work arounds. As expected, the explosives are already being set."
"What?" what the fuck did any of that even mean?! "Demiurge, what did you-"
Before I could question the demon any further, I heard of a series of explosions off in the distance. One after another, seconds apart, plumes of smoke slowly rising into the sky as fires started to emerge across the cityscape.
Then another explosion.
And another.
And another….
"What was that?"
"Oh, that would be the First Phase beginning," he explained, tsking to himself on the other end. "It should have started five minutes ago, but what can you expect from humans?"
"Demiruge how many… explosives did you set?"
"Me? None. The throngs of workers under my command? Twenty-seven. All low-grade explosives of course, we're trying to sow chaos not destroy the city of course."
Another explosion…
"Workers?"
"Yes, a force of workers, aided by summoned demons, a force whose sole purpose is to spread chaos and panic across the city!" I could almost feel some overexaggerated arm gestures just from his tone of voice. "Looting, pillaging, burning, and all manner of unpleasantness will soon engulf the jewel of the Empire! Again, I would have preferred to have more workers for the attack since it blended spectacularly with our designs, but as said before I improvised somewhat."
"Demiurge…" what the hell are you planning!?!?
Another explosion…
"But look at me ramble, chatting away as if you don't have places to be. Good luck on your performance with Emperor, Citrinitas. Let's speak later after the third phase has properly begun," with that, the demon cut off the connection on his end.
I stood in silence, only the pained groans of the dying and the explosions rocking the area.
My mind needed a moment to process everything.
Wait, didn't Demiurge mention something about the Emperor? I doubt Demiurge is going to kill the guy, but what about all the other people in the palace? People who are definitely going to die if I don't step in and help?
Damn it all.
"Wraith," the specter turns to me, "follow."
Ghost in hand, I race back to the gala.
---
---
Demiruge sighed as another explosion rocked the city. He had been dreading that call from Citrinitas, half-expecting the homunculus to kick up a storm about the alterations to scheming and plotting. But thankfully she seemed quite understanding in a way he knew her sister wouldn't have been.
Citrinitas's machinations, while brilliant, were somewhat blunt. Her plans relied upon simple brute force and point to point plotting to succeed. Useful? Absolutely. Clever, without a doubt.
But perhaps it was just his inner thespian, but her work was also… stale. Very little in the way of theatrics and minimal amount of spectacle. Too straight forward. Too, dare he say, boring.
Maybe it was just their differing ways of approaching problems. Citrinitas was an alchemist, he was an archfiend. Naturally, these two states of being would have vastly different thought processes.
Still, everything was ready.
The stage was set.
The pieces and actors were ready to take their places.
Speaking of actors and pieces…..
"Is it everything you wanted?" It was the first time in hours the human Morrice spoke to Demiurge. While the demon perched himself atop the roof to watch the devastation first hand with his 'maid' by his side. His location left only the balcony as a means for the human to speak with him.
"It's not nearly enough," Demiurge replied, not looking away as more explosions rocked the city.
"I'm… sorry to hear that," he decided not to call the human out on that lie.
"Still, everything still went according to plan." His reply was a mixture of acting and truth. While he sorely wished to see more devastation, that would be counterproductive to Lord Ainz's plans.
"I- I see," he really didn't. "So… what now?"
"We move onto the next phase," Demiurge gestured for a masked Lupusregina Beta to approach him. "Do you remember the plan?" the 'demon' maid nodded. "Then go join the assault on the palace."
With another nod, the maid left from rooftop to rooftop towards the palace where the Second Phase was due to take place. He hoped Citrintias was able to put on a good show for the lesser beings present.
"But the infiltration group-"
"Has already failed," he cut the man off. "She had her guard up, she expected something even if she didn't know what it was, they were cut down to the last."
"I… Understand the feeling of paranoia," the man replied.
"Hardly paranoia if you are being targeted, no?" he was certain the human could see his grin even through the mask he wore.
"I- very good then," The human nodded and mumbled to himself.
The human Morrice continued to fidget in the silence as the two watched fires light up across the city.
Demiurge enjoyed the fear that radiated off the human. The tacit understanding of his own powerlessness in the face of unspeakable evil while simultaneously aware of his own involvement in facilitating said acts. And thinking of his own imminent mortality at Demiurge's hands once this business in Arwintar was done.
An incorrect assumption, since he would survive. Not that he was going to correct the human's assumption. The terror it conjured in him was too tantalizing.
Of course, his survival was predicated on being processed along with the rest of the Eight Finger leadership. But after that? He had that perfectly predictable mixture of competence and above average intellect. Maybe he'll even ask Albedo to have him installed as the new leader of the Eight Fingers.
"Is there something else you wanted to say?" his question made the human fidget.
"Yes… um" the human cleared his throat. "About that other matter you wanted me to look into? I was able to get word from a person in the Re-Estize branch that something remarkably similar to the figurine you mentioned was logged in their warehouse."
"Ah yes, that, '' Demiurge knew the answer to the question he posed but he still had to go through the motions for the sake of Lord Ainz's plan.
"Now if you give me a couple of weeks I can have it transferred over here for-"
"That won't be necessary," Demiurge cut the human off. "It's simply enough to know where it is. I shall retrieve it myself shortly."
Of course, Demiurge knew where the statue was. He personally ordered its placement after all. The whole exchange was done for the sole purpose of establishing a 'paper trail' for the various nations to examine for a shared link between the events in Arwintar and Re-Estize.
Another explosion rocked through the city.
Oh yes, everything was going exactly as Lord Ainz envisioned.
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AN: yes, the city burns in hellfire!!!
Also, Shalltear is cute dumb, and Demiurge gonna Demiurge, some things never change.
Next chapter (which will be out a lot sooner then this one was since a lot of it was bits cut from this one that didn't really fit with what I was going for) will be mostly a New Worlder POV chapter of the events.
Demiurge is screwing up everyone's plans as usual.
...... Somehow, there needs to be karmic retribution for this.
...... Somehow, there needs to be karmic retribution for this.
Now I'm picturing a situation where Citrinitas is being accosted by an incredibly powerful(for the world) but evil group and barely holding on when Shalltear shows up. The group is like "Citrinitas must be their powerhouse!" and thinks they can take Shalltear as well. She can't be as powerful, right?
Then Citrinitas goes "Shalltear, these people have the most impolite designs on my body, and this has been most stressing, could you please kill them all for me?"
Then Citrinitas goes "Shalltear, these people have the most impolite designs on my body, and this has been most stressing, could you please kill them all for me?"
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him/They
Shalltear: "YES MY QUEEN!"