Rebellion, An Overlord Story[NPC OC/SI]

[BenMalek]

Plans dans les plans​

The full ensemble of the Black Scripture gathered in the grand hall of the Slane Theocracy, their faces set with determination. Their mission was clear: subjugate the Catastrophe Dragon Lord, a task only they could undertake. Each member was a hero, utilizing legendary equipment from the Six Great Gods, a testament to their unparalleled might.

The Captain, with androgynous features, long black hair, and sharp red eyes, stood in ornate armor, holding a humble-looking spear. "All right, everyone, this mission is critical. The Catastrophe Dragon Lord is a formidable foe, but we must succeed."

Time Turbulence, a man with medium brown hair, green eyes, and a cape adorned with clock patterns, wielded his spiral-patterned rapier with ease. "I've been waiting for a real challenge. It's been too quiet since the Sunlight Scripture debacle."

Lady Kaire, the elderly 4th Seat, wore a white cheongsam embroidered with a golden dragon, the powerful artifact 'Downfall of Castle and Country.' She had a serene yet authoritative presence. "I heard rumors that Clementine might have had a hand in what happened to them. She disappeared around the same time."

One Man Army, Quaiesse Hazia Quintia, who bore a striking resemblance to his twin sister Clementine, had blond hair and pink eyes. He specialized in commanding tamed beasts stored in his rings. "Clementine always was a wild card. But let's focus. This Dragon Lord won't be an easy target."

Callous Lancer, with short blond hair slicked back and narrow gray eyes, wore decorative armor and carried a large lance. "A Dragon Lord, huh? I've fought a few dragons before, but nothing like this. Any intel on its abilities?"

Thousand Leagues Astrologer, a young woman with short light brown hair, orange eyes, and dressed in a school uniform, provided intelligence support. "From what I've gathered, it's incredibly powerful, with devastating magical and physical capabilities. It's also said to have some control over catastrophic events."

"So…nothing concrete beyond it being big and scary? Like every other dragon?" Callous lancer queried, and the young woman merely nodded in response.

Cedran, a tall, muscular man with long crimson hair tied in a ponytail, known for his stern demeanor, crossed his arms. "Sounds like we're in for a tough fight. But we've faced worse. Remember the battle against the Beast of the Apocalypse?"

Beaumarchais, Divine Chain, Clementine's replacement as the 9th seat, was a powerfully built man with black spiked hair and a tattoo on his left temple, who also had an unhealthy affinity for chains, be they used in combat or… elsewhere.

"That was a nightmare. But this might be even worse. A Dragon Lord's strength is beyond that of any regular monster. And speaking of nightmares, any word on what happened to the Sunlight Scripture? Did they find the bastard who did it?"

The Captain shook his head. "We know he's a magic caster who goes by the name of Ainz Ooal Gown, but beyond that? There's no information about him. Whoever he is, he knows how to stay out of sight."

The old, gray-haired man known by the title of 'Strongest Human', had a great and terrifying axe and even more great and terrifying muscles that covered every inch of his body. "Forget the magic caster. We're going dragon hunting! And it's a good thing we are! It's been so long since my ax has tasted blood, and I need a real fight. This Dragon Lord better not disappoint."

At that point, a woman glared at him like he was an idiot. Her title was Infinite Magic, and her appearance was that of a frail woman with long blue hair, dressed in loose, sagging clothes,l and wore an enormous hat. She specialized in powerful magic and was among the if not the most powerful magic caster in the Theocracy's employ, and possibly the most powerful magic caster on the continent, after Fluder Paradyne of course.

"If we're not careful, it could end us all. But with our combined strength, we stand a chance."

Tenjho Tenge, a middle-aged man in a red, skin-tight bodysuit reinforced with metal plating, specialized in close combat. "We'll need to be at our best. No room for mistakes."

The Captain nodded, his red eyes sharp and focused. "We proceed with caution. Remember, this mission isn't just about defeating a powerful enemy. It's about ensuring the safety and dominance of the Slane Theocracy. The Catastrophe Dragon Lord has the potential to wreak havoc on our lands. We must eliminate this threat."

"Am I the only one here worried about Clementine? Her and Zurrarnon could cause us a bunch of trouble. Any chance they might show up?" Time Turbulence asked.

The third seat of the Black Scripture, a middle-aged man with a mark tattoo on his left palm who wore extravagant robes decided to speak up. "Good. It'll be fun to fight those posers and show them what true power is."

And as a man who specialized in necromantic magic, shadow magic, and curses, he was most similar to a member of Zurrarnon.

At his words, Time Turbulence cringed and muttered 'weirdo' under his breath.

One Man Army, who bore a striking resemblance to his twin sister Clementine, answered with a grim expression. "If my sister is alive, she'll be watching from the shadows, no doubt. But if we do find her, we will capture her and bring her to justice. Her defecting was one thing, but to steal the Crown of Wisdom as well is unforgivable. Nonetheless, we can't worry about her now."

The Captain agreed. "We stick to the mission. The Dragon Lord is our priority. Anything else is just a bonus."

Callous Lancer cracked his knuckles. "I have no doubt that our training is enough. We will succeed. Even if we are too weak to take it down ourselves, Lady Kaire will use 'Downfall of Castle and Country' to subjugate the beast."

Strongest Human hefted his axe with a grin. "Don't place too much faith in magic trinkets. You never know where things might go wrong. But yeah, we'll come back alive and victorious, all of us."

Callous Lancer's mouth was agape. "Did you just call… a treasure from the Gods… a trinket?"

The old man merely flashed him a smile in response.

Thousand Leagues Astrologer sighed. "I'll provide as much intelligence support as I can during the mission. Keep your eyes and ears open. And don't expect me to fight that thing, whatever it is."

Cedran's eyes blazed with determination. "We'll make sure this Dragon Lord regrets crossing paths with the Black Scripture."

Divine Chain's voice was steady. "Just another job. But let's make sure we all come back alive."

Infinite Magic's gaze was intense. "Alive, and victorious."

Tenjho Tenge's fists clenched in anticipation. "I'm ready. Let's do this."

The Captain raised his spear, a symbol of their unity and strength. "For the Slane Theocracy!"

The members echoed his rallying cry, their determination unwavering. Together, they marched out, ready to face the Catastrophe Dragon Lord and prove once again why the Black Scripture was the strongest force in the Theocracy.

---

The dawn cast a gray light through the grand windows of the Emperor's council chamber. Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix, the Blood Emperor, sat at the head of the table, his usually confident demeanor replaced by an uneasy pallor. The Four Imperial Knights—Nazami Enec, Nimble Arc Dale Anoch, Leinas Rockbruise, and Baziwood Peshmel—stood by, their expressions reflecting varying degrees of concern and determination.

Advisors and council members were already gathered, their murmurs hushed but urgent. Jircniv cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to him. "We need to discuss the slavery reforms," he began, his voice lacking its usual authority. "I have compiled a list of 100 prominent slaveholders and merchants who must be dealt with to stabilize our empire."

Nazami Enec, a tall and muscular man with dark tanned skin and an x-shaped scar on his chin, remained stoic and composed. His dark brown eyes conveyed his concern without words. Nimble Arc Dale Anoch, a handsome young man with short blonde hair and blue eyes, frowned slightly, his demeanor dignified yet apprehensive. Leinas Rockbruise, the only female knight, stood aloof, her fair skin and green eyes marred by a curse that had disfigured the right side of her face. Baziwood Peshmel, the acting leader, with his long blonde hair and muscular build, leaned forward, his informal personality evident even in his concern.

"Your Majesty, another purge targeting influential individuals will incite unrest. We must consider the repercussions," Nazami said, his deep voice calm.

"Indeed," added Nimble, his tone calculating. "Perhaps we could spread out the actions over several months? This would mitigate immediate backlash and allow us to manage the consequences more effectively."

Baziwood crossed his arms, his face stern. "Eh, I say just gut em. At this point anyone not with the program deserves what's coming to 'em."

Leinas, usually silent, decided to speak. "I don't know if a purge is what we need right now. Maybe after the war?

An advisor entered the room, carrying a tray laden with breakfast. Jircniv glanced at the food, but the mere sight of it made his stomach churn. He waved it away, his face growing even paler.

"Your Majesty, are you unwell?" Nazami asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I'm fine," Jircniv replied curtly, though his pallor suggested otherwise.

As the discussion continued, Fluder Paradyne entered the chamber, his presence commanding immediate attention. The old mage's eyes glinted with hidden knowledge as he took a seat beside the Emperor.

"Master Fluder," Jircniv greeted, his voice steadying slightly. "Your counsel on this matter would be invaluable."

Fluder nodded, his expression unreadable. "A sudden purge will create chaos. Yet, reforming the institution of slavery is something we will need to do eventually. Should the Slane Theocracy destroy the Elf Kingdom, we will inevitably have a decent-sized minority of elves and half-elves in our borders. If left alone, they have the potential to cause unnecessary damage to our goals. It's easier to just emancipate all the elves now and incorporate them as loyal tax-payers, thus securing their loyalty."

Upon hearing the last word Jircniv nearly swallowed his tongue but managed to stop himself at the last moment.

Nimble, the handsome knight, commented. "We must consider the long-term effects on the populace of yet another purge. People dislike seeing blood unless it's in the Arena."

Jircniv met Fluder's gaze, a silent understanding passing between them. Both knew that their recent encounter with Remiel had prompted these drastic measures, though neither would acknowledge it openly.

Emperor Jircniv sat silent for a few moments as he deliberated his options. On the one hand, stability, on the other, possibly angering his new owner. Eventually, he came to a decision.

"I trust your wisdom, Master Fluder," Jircniv said, his voice regaining some strength. "We will proceed with caution, spreading the purge out over several months."

"Wise decision, Your Majesty," Fluder replied, his tone betraying nothing. "Stability is paramount, especially with the state of Re-Estize as a cautionary tale."

"I trust your wisdom, Master Fluder," Jircniv said, his voice regaining some strength. "We will proceed with caution, spreading the actions over several months."

"Wise decision, Your Majesty," Fluder replied, his tone betraying nothing. "Stability is paramount, especially with the state of Re-Estize as a cautionary tale."

The conversation shifted to the dire situation in Re-Estize, where instability and rebellion had taken root following their failure to address slavery and noble corruption. The shadow of their unspoken alliance, or in Jircniv's case, unwilling subjugation to Remiel loomed large over the room. The news from Re-Estize, where the nobles' failure to address the gradual degradation of their society had led to widespread unrest, served as a stark reminder of the consequences of inaction.

One of the advisors, a seasoned diplomat named Gaius Varian, spoke up. "The recent mansion incident still weighs heavily on my mind. Investigations are still ongoing, and we do not know who burned it down or why that noble and his staff were killed."

Jircniv turned to Fluder, his expression curious. "Master Fluder, do you have any insights into this incident?"

Fluder's eyes twinkled with a secretive light. "I know only this. It is not easy to destroy the manse of a well-protected noble overnight. Originally I thought it was the work of a group, but now… I believe that the individual responsible for that incident wields power that is not to be underestimated."

Jircniv nodded, understanding Fluder's hint. "Yes, the mansion incident. We must show that we are in control. No one should be able to kill our nobles at will."

"No one but you, eh?" Baziwood chimed in from the side and the comment elicited a chuckle from the Emperor.

"Our response must be measured. Too heavy-handed a response could backfire. Fluder, I'll put you on the case with the mansion. Find who did it and deal with them."

Fluder merely nodded in affirmation.

Another advisor, clearly uncomfortable, ventured, "Back to the topic of the purge. Perhaps we could focus on the most egregious offenders first? Those whose actions have directly threatened the stability of the empire?"

Gaius added, "It would demonstrate that we are acting with purpose and not simply out of fear or desperation."

The conversation circled back to the practicalities of the purge. As the morning sun rose ever higher, casting a harsh light on the gathering, Jircniv couldn't shake the feeling that his empire was now a pawn in a game far beyond his control. His appetite remained nonexistent, the weight of recent events pressing heavily on his mind and body.

"We must also consider the military situation," Nimble said, steering the conversation. "The annual war with Re-Estize is approaching. We need our forces focused and ready."

Jircniv nodded. "You're right. With Re-Estize being a powder-keg ready to erupt into civil war at any moment, we can't afford to waste too much time on the purge. We must be prepared to strike, and we will manage the purge in a way that does not distract from our preparations for the war."

One of the younger advisors, a man named Lucius Tiberian, hesitated before speaking. "Your Majesty, there is a particular individual not on the list I wish to bring to your attention."

Jircniv raised an eyebrow. "And who might that be, Lucius?"

Lucius cleared his throat. "Marcus Salvius Terentius, Your Majesty. He...he slept with my wife. Oh, and he also owns a lumber mill that supplies a significant portion of the city's construction needs."

A brief silence followed as the absurdity of Lucius' petty vendetta hung in the air. Jircniv merely chuckled in response before exhaling deeply. "Woe unto Marcus Salvius," he said, his tone both mocking and resolute. "His days are numbered."

Fluder's eyes sparkled with amusement, though he maintained his composed demeanor. "Fear not, your Majesty. I am sure that we will be victorious and all your enemies will be destroyed."

Jircniv barely contained the laughter that threatened to erupt from his soul.

---

Later that day, once night fell on the Re-Estize capital…


Demiurge stood in the shadowed alleyway, his mind racing with plans and schemes. The air was thick with the scent of decay, a fitting backdrop for the city's impending doom. His previous encounter had been productive; the information extracted from the fat man had been invaluable. Now, it was time to set the next phase into motion.

He reached out with a [Message] spell. "Shadow Demon, report."

"My lord," the demon's voice echoed in his mind, "we have identified key figures within the criminal underbelly who can be manipulated to our advantage. They control various vices and are influential in the city's darker circles."

"Excellent," Demiurge replied, a smile playing on his lips. "Begin sowing discord among them by planting those letters as instructed. Use their greed and paranoia to our benefit."

"As you command, Lord Demiurge."

Demiurge turned his attention to the flickering lights of the noble district. His plans for the city's elite were equally insidious. He would exploit their vanity and lust for power, turning them against each other and weakening their defenses. And when he had squeezed every last drop of usefulness from their bloated masses, he'd claim their souls and torment them for eternity. Perhaps he'd make a monument of their fleshy remains?

"Lord Ainz did mention we need more scrolls… Perhaps I can beat their skin into a pulp and turn it into paper? Hmm…potentially fruitful hypothesis, this. Should experiment further. I will have one of the Shadow Demons kidnap an unimportant human and experiment on them later."

With a flick of his wrist, he cast [Greater Teleportation] and appeared in the lavish gardens of a prominent noble's estate. The night was silent, save for the chirping of crickets. He approached the grand mansion, his form cloaked in shadow.

Inside, the nobleman was hosting a gathering of influential figures. Demiurge could hear the murmur of conversation, the clinking of glasses. It was a simple matter to blend into the darkness, listening in on their discussions. Not a single one of them knew that Demiurge was there, listening to their treasonous words, just waiting for the perfect timing to make his move.

"Lord Reaghan," one of the guests said, "have you heard the rumors? There are whispers of unrest in the slums. It could spill over into our districts."

Reaghan, a portly man with a haughty demeanor, waved a dismissive hand. "Nonsense. The guards will handle it. Besides, we have more pressing matters to discuss. The King's health is failing, and there are those who believe it's time for a change in leadership. It's high time Prince Barbro inherits. And with the war with Baharuth right around the corner, a victory for him will help cement his legitimacy."

"And ours!" Another thin noble exclaimed loudly and the fellow meatbags around him repeated his words and clinked their glasses together.

Demiurge's eyes gleamed. This was the opportunity he needed. As the conversation continued, he noted the alliances and rivalries among the nobles. He would fan the flames of their ambitions, turning them into unwitting pawns in his game.

As the night wore on, Demiurge made his move. He approached a particularly ambitious noble, Lord Marquess, after the noble decided to get some fresh air on a balcony. This very same noble had repeatedly and quite often been voicing his desire for greater power and autonomy for the nobility.

"Lord Marquess," Demiurge whispered, his voice like silk. "I have a proposition for you."

Marquess turned, his eyes widening at the sight of the demon. "Who... who are you?"

"Someone who has much to gain from working with you. An ally, perhaps" Demiurge replied smoothly. "One who can help you achieve your goals. But you must trust me."

Marquess hesitated, then nodded. "Why should I trust you? You don't look human."

Demiurge leaned in, his voice low and conspiratorial. "Because I have knowledge, but no place to call my own. Humans have persecuted me for a long time, and thus I have been forced to live in the shadows. Living in secrecy has provided me a wealth of information, of which I will give you freely, provided in turn you protect me from my enemies and offer me a safe place to live on your land. Perhaps you can carve out a village for me in your demesne and I can serve as one of your vassals? All I want is a place to call my own, just like any other human."

Marquess's eyes glittered with greed. "I risk much by speaking with you. But let us say I believe you. Tell me more."

"How many children does the King have? Five, three daughters and two sons. Of the two sons, one is married, and one is not, and of the three daughters, only one is unmarried. Who will inherit him?"

The noble's eyebrow furrowed. "Prince Barbro, of course."

"What if that were not so? I know that the prince has some dark secrets he'd rather not revealed. If those came to light, he'd surely be disinherited, and in so doing, start a civil war between his supporters, and those that'd support his brother."

"So, you want me to support one of these sides in a hypothetical civil war?"

"Yes and no. Your son is unmarried, and of an age with the third princess, correct? Suppose both the princes Barbro the Elder and Zanac the younger were to meet their unfortunate ends in this war. Who would inherit?"

"Hmm… The law is not clear. The King's brother…"

"Is dead. And the king's nephews are dead, the oldest descendant of his brother is a six-year old boy, the king's grand-nephew. Thus, who would inherit, a six-year old boy of diluted royal blood when Baharuth is breathing down the Kingdom's neck, or a woman, the King's own flesh and blood?"

As Demiurge laid out his plan, he could see the seeds of treachery taking root. Marquess would become his instrument, spreading discord and weakening the noble class from within. Not that they needed more weakening.

"The king has three daughters…two of them are married. The Princess Renner is not."

"You got it exactly right. While an argument could be made for the oldest of the King's daughters to inherit, if you were to get enough of the nobles to support you, she could be passed up for her youngest sister… who would be married to your son. Thus, making you the father-in-law to the queen and father to the king consort, grandfather of the future king. You'd be the most powerful man in Re-Estize, and you could lead it into a Golden Era."

"That's…" the noble swallowed his saliva. "That's treason."

"Only if we lose." Demiurge whispered, and faded back into the shadows.

Satisfied, Demiurge took his leave.

As he left the mansion, he reminisced over what he had told the noble. It was pure hogwash, of course, but that noble wouldn't be the only one he'd feed such sweet little lies to. There were dozens, a veritable tribe of the fools, all written in his notes, and he could wrap each of them around his little finger.

Once he did and had them dancing to a specific tune, he'd eventually cut them loose and enjoy the chaos they caused as they tried to move without the aid of the puppeteer, flinging Re-Estize into chaos while Demiurge focused on his real plans using his real chosen servants.

Truth be told, words were wind, and Demiurge had no intention of honoring his whispers and deals, but they didn't know that… all he needed was the nobles to act even more treasonously to their liege than they had before. How this manifested was irrelevant.

He cast a final glance at the mansion. The pieces were falling into place. Soon, Re-Estize would be ripe for conquest, and all would bow before the supreme power of Nazarick.

"Happy is he who toils for his master's sake," Demiurge murmured to himself, before his lips hummed a sweet tune. His gem-like eyes were positively shining with anticipation at the sweet terrors he'd soon unleash on this wretched nation. The kingdom's downfall was inevitable, and he would ensure that it was a spectacle worthy of Lord Ainz's greatness.

And if Demiurge had a little fun while it happened, what was so wrong with that?

 

[Not_So_Dark_One]

I love the alternate timeline you are building around Remiel here. Looking forward to more.

 

[Lillie Jones]

Demiuge thoughts are always good riot to read in the takedown of Lord Ainz Gown contest, and Fluder and Jin share in the conspiracy with Ramiel for taking down one down of his rivial Marcus as Jin has become a laughing mad man after become Ramiel puppet/ instrument weapon on the corruption of E Rantel Underworld belly.
Continue on
Cheers!

 

[BenMalek]

I command thee, rise​

In a dimly lit inn room, Ainz Ooal Gown sat with Nabe by his side, his skeletal brow furrowing in concentration while reading a book. A bright flash of light manifested itself inside the room, and Remiel appeared. Ainz looked up, his skeletal face betraying no emotion as he sighted the already kneeling Remiel. Instantly he bid her to rise with his hand.

"Ah, Remiel," Ainz began, "You're here to bring a report of your activities in Baharuth, correct?"

Remiel nodded, her expression confident. "Yes, my Lord. The Baharuth Empire is effectively under our control, though they don't know it. Both the Emperor and Fluder Paradyne are now our puppets, ensuring their loyalty to Nazarick. As far as we're concerned, that flank is secure."

An unruler-like sound of 'Nani!?' came out from Lord Ainz's throat, but was swiftly covered up by a cough. Afterwards Ainz's red eyes glowed with satisfaction.

"Already? Impressive, very impressive. Excellent work. Your efficiency is commendable, especially considering Demiurge is still entangled in his operations in Re-Estize."

Remiel allowed herself a small smile. "Thank you, Lord Ainz. I did notice Lupusregina wasn't present. May I ask why?"

Ainz's tone turned stern. "Lupusregina is currently being disciplined. She killed a potentially valuable asset, the Serpent of the West, without my orders. Such recklessness cannot go unpunished."

"I see," Remiel replied, her voice steady. "It is unfortunate, but I understand the necessity. I could resurrect the asset, if you wish it to be so."

Ainz waved her away. "That's unnecessary. It's less about the beast being useful and more about Lupusregina losing control where she shouldn't have."

At that point, Narberal Gamma commented from the side. "It was quite a bloody sight. I didn't think my sister had such ferocity in her."

Ainz leaned forward, his gaze inquisitive. "But enough about her. Tell me, how exactly did you manage to subjugate the two most important people in Baharuth? And so soon?"

Remiel took a deep breath, her tone measured. "I first took Fluder. With him, his obsession with magic was the key. The man is practically addicted to knowledge, and he's been hungering for magical power all his life. A sufficient show of force as well as some promises, secured his undying loyalty to Nazarick. As for the Emperor Jircniv, I went another route, promising death and destruction should he refuse to submit. I already had a decent grasp of his personality from second-hand sources, most of whom claimed he was intelligent, and intelligent people, the sane ones at least, are predictable and tend to be risk-averse, wary of events they cannot predict or control and they fear losing what they have worked to earn. Thus, all it took was a bit of theatricality and a threat to his life and he wisely decided he'd rather remain a living Emperor instead of a dead man."

Nabe, who had been silent, interjected, "Impressive. But are they completely loyal, or is there a chance of betrayal?"

Remiel shook her head. "Their loyalty is secured through a combination of fear, ambition, and the allure of greater power. However, I do think Fluder's loyalty is a tad greater. In time he'll probably become quite zealous. As for Jircniv, we can keep him until one of his children, groomed for rulership of Baharuth and servitude to Nazarick, comes of age. On the way, maybe we can also experiment with trying to breed potentially beneficial genetic traits from valuable humans or godkin into the Imperial bloodline. It's an idea of Demiurge's. I talked about it briefly with him via [Message], but it can be shelved and taken up again in a decade or so. Regardless, both Jircniv and Fluder understand that betrayal means certain death."

Ainz nodded thoughtfully. "Very well. Now, I've heard rumors from Albedo that you brought an outsider into Nazarick. Explain yourself."

"Albedo is correct. I found a slave girl in an auction house and brought her to my room.Her name is Perska," Remiel began, "She is an orphan from a remote village that was destroyed by Theocracy forces."

"The Theocracy?" Ainz queried.

"They are at war with the dark elves. I don't know much more about the war besides the fact that it's the source of most of the elven slaves in the region." Remiel responded.

Ainz took in her words and nodded. "Continue." He bid her.

"Her case is interesting. Apparently, her biological father is the Elf King. He is known for a few things. His strength, his cruelty, his propensity for rape - Nabe tisked. "-his negligence toward his people, and also his heterochromatic eyes." At the last bit, Ainz's flaming eyes burned ever brighter.

"Heterochromatic eyes?" He asked.

"Just like Aura and Mare. The girl shares the same trait… One eye blue, the other green" Remiel said.

A moment of silence fell upon them.


"It's… one of the reasons I took her in. When I saw her there, being sold as meat, I saw Aura in her place, and a great anger was roused within me. I took the girl from those who sold her like meat and then brought vengeance on them, both the man who bought her and the man who sold her."


Another moment of silence fell, this time even more tense. "What did you do to the men?" Ainz said in a chilling voice.

"One of them is dead, the other wishes he was." Remiel replied.

"Good." Was the only word heard from the mouth of the skeletal undead.


"Also, I thought it might be beneficial for Aura and Mare to be around others of their kind, to make some friends and learn from. But I must concede, the main reason I brought the girl into Nazarick was selfishness, it was my own sentimentality." Remiel said as she bowed her head.

"I will not chastise you for it. You are simply acting according to your nature. You are free to follow it as long as your actions do not compromise Nazarick. And besides, the girl may prove useful. Does she have any abilities?"

"It appears like she's just a regular child, though her mother did train her to be a pharmacist before they were separated."

Ainz cupped his pointy calcium-rich chin. "Hmm… we could do experiments. We don't know how the natives here grow in strength."

"An excellent idea, Lord Ainz. The girl may be useless now, but with enough training she may serve as a suitable meatshield." Nabe commented from the side, and Remiel gave her a stinkeye in reply.

"Well, it's decided then." Ainz said. "Remiel, I'll leave it to you to take care of the girl's schooling and introduction to Nazarick. I want regular updates on the girl's strength, in whichever way it may manifest. If this Elf King is powerful and the girl is his descendant, she may have hidden depths."

"Thank you, my Lord." Remiel bowed her head.

"Oh, and feel free to introduce her to the twins in the coming days. Mare should be free once he finishes his work on concealing Nazarick. As a matter of fact, I'll also attend the meeting between the three of them. I'm curious."


Curiosity lingered in Remiel's mind. "May I ask, what exactly are Demiurge's activities in Re-Estize?"

"He is implementing his plans to destabilize the kingdom from within, sowing discord and manipulating key figures to our advantage," Ainz replied. "His progress is steady, but it will take time to fully achieve our goals there. But between your swift actions in Baharuth and Demiurge's meticulous work in Re-Estize, our influence is spreading well. I will read your detailed report later. For now, consider what reward you might want for your service."

Remiel considered for a moment before speaking. "I desire no reward save the opportunity to continue to serve you loyally."

Ainz shook his head. "I'd argue that I insist you receive a reward, but you'll just claim otherwise and we'll run around in circles. We'll talk of rewards some other time."

Remiel nodded. "Very well, my Lord."

"You have my permission to proceed as you did so far and act as you deem fit. You have my trust, and your dedication and efficiency continue to be invaluable to Nazarick. Keep up the good work."

Remiel bowed deeply. "I will not disappoint you, my Lord." With that, she disappeared in a flash of bright light, her mind already racing with plans for the future.

---

Fluder Paradyne sat at his desk, the late morning light streaming through the window of his study. Books and scrolls were scattered about as he meticulously penned his latest findings. His thoughts lingered on the tense meeting earlier with Emperor Jircniv and his council. The emperor's pale face and hollow eyes were a testament to the weight of their current predicament.

"The sooner he accepts his position, the better it will be for him. He'll find freedom in service, and his worries will wash away once he understands," Fluder mused.

The sudden flash of bright blue light and the distinctive sound of teleportation pulled Fluder from his thoughts. He turned to see Remiel, his new mistress, materialize in his chamber. Instantly, he jumped from his seat and prostrated himself.

"Great One," Fluder greeted her, not daring to lift his face. "You honor me with your presence. How can I assist you this morning?"

Remiel took in his prostrated form before her eyes briefly scanned the room. "Rise, Fluder." She commanded, and he did so. "I understand you had a meeting with the emperor this morning."

Fluder sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Yes, it was... challenging. Jircniv is under immense pressure. The situation with the nobles and the purge has left him rattled."

"But it will be done, yes?" Remiel inquired sharply.

"Yes, it will all go as you wish it, though the timescale may be extended a bit… having the purge be spread out is what the Emperor decided to do."

Remiel tisked, a sound that hit Fluder's heart like a hammer. "Fine, I suppose it's unavoidable," she said as her eyes narrowed. "And what of your task, Fluder? Have you made any progress in collecting the knowledge I seek?"

Fluder nodded, motioning to a stack of ancient tomes on his desk. "I have begun compiling texts on the real history and origin of the Six Great Gods and the Eight Greed Kings, but I have not yet had time to go over the other topics."

Remiel walked over to the desk, her fingers grazing the spine of one of the books. "Focus on this first. Your efforts are appreciated, Fluder. But remember, time is of the essence. I require this knowledge to further our plans. I can't go around stumbling in the dark."

Fluder bowed his head. "I understand. I will not rest until I have gathered all that you need."

Remiel's gaze shifted to a portrait on the wall, depicting Fluder with his students. "Tell me about your students. Have any of them shown promise?"

Fluder's face tightened with a mix of pride and frustration. "My brightest student, Sophie, shows some potential, but she is only of the fourth tier. None of them have come close to achieving what I had hoped for."

Remiel tilted her head. "And what of Arche, the one who dropped out?"

"Arche had potential," Fluder replied with a hint of sadness. "But her family issues drew her away from her studies. It is a great loss."

Remiel's eyes softened for a moment. "It is always a tragedy when potential goes unrealized. Tell me of the other one, that genius who blew himself up. What kind of student was he?"

Fluder's heart twinged with sadness at the mention of the student. He quickly composed himself. "The boy's name was Karl. He was lowborn, but not exactly a peasant. His mother was a seamstress and his father a stonemason."

Remiel took a seat, her curiosity piqued. "That type of lineage doesn't seem very conducive to magical research."

"Indeed. However, the boy was incredibly bright. His parents knew it ever since he was a toddler. They claimed he taught himself magic at four, nearly burning their house down."

Remiel glared. "A four-year-old nearly burned his house down? How is that special? It could've been a random candle."

"Not according to them. They begged at the academy for the boy to be tested. Skeptical, I agreed, thinking it a scheme. But when we put the boy in a testing environment, he summoned a fiery sprite that burned a straw puppet."

"A fiery sprite?"

"Like... no larger than a small kitten. It was somewhat aware and seemed to be the boy's friend. It had shown up when some boys were bullying him. The sprite grew as he did, standing as tall as an ogre by the time the boy was sixteen."

"How did he blow himself up?"

"The boy was practicing alchemy in his laboratory. He was always safe. Then one day, we heard a terrifying explosion and the crackling of flame. Only his charred remains were found."

"What tier was he at the time of his death?"

"Fourth tier, like Sophie. But while Sophie is a researcher, the boy was a jack-of-all-trades."

Remiel's eyes gleamed with interest. "I have time to burn now that I've finished in Baharuth. Let's go talk to him."

"He's dead."

"That won't be a problem. I'll bring him back."

"How is that possible? He is probably little more than ashes and bones by now!"

"I can bring him back. I'll return your student to you, Fluder."

"Truly? Then, Great One, let me take you to where he is buried." Fluder prostrated himself once more.

"Oh, and Fluder. Bring a shovel. I'm not going to dig for him."

"Of course."

---

Fuder stood in the scarcely visited cemetery on the outskirts of Baharuth, directing a skeletal minion wielding a shovel. The sky was bright and clear, the sunlight filtering through the trees. Remiel, standing beside him, glanced around and waved her hand, summoning dark clouds that soon unleashed a gentle rain, masking their actions. The action did not at all surprise Fluder.

Even he was capable of weather manipulation, though this was a step above.

"The boy's parents wanted him buried here," Fluder explained. "They paid for it out of their own pocket, which is why it's not an elaborate tombstone."

As the skeleton dug, Fluder continued, "Resurrection spells can backfire. Weak beings' remains can turn to ashes, or they can turn into undead. Remains are necessary for resurrection as far as I know."

Remiel, undeterred, replied, "Do not doubt me, mortal. Doubt your own knowledge. You have sworn yourself to me; go all the way. The spell I will use is a 9th tier spell called [True Resurrection]. It can bring a target back even if there's no remains or if the target was low-leveled."

Fluder nodded, awed and a bit nervous, as the skeletal minion continued its task. The rain intensified, shrouding the cemetery in a cloak of secrecy.

Remiel turned to Fluder, "Tell me more about the boy. How did he come to your attention?"

Fluder sighed, his eyes reflecting a mixture of sadness and pride. "He was exceptional. Despite his humble origins, his potential was evident. He had a natural affinity for magic, and the fire sprite he controlled was devastating in combat, especially against the undead. He was curious and driven. His talents grew rapidly under my guidance. But he grew prideful and solitary, which I suppose was to be expected. With nothing to call his own and nothing to inherit, he took pride in his mind, which was the only thing he had, really."

"Pride comes before the fall. Have you heard of this saying?" Remiel asked, her tone thoughtful.

"Can't say that I have, but it certainly sounds wise. Is it one of your own sayings?"

"Not quite. I read it in a book. I may give it to you to read someday."


Fluder nodded thoughtfully.


"It is a shame he met such an untimely end." Remiel continued. "But his story is not yet over. What of his family? How did they take his death?"

"His parents were devastated," Fluder replied, his voice tinged with regret. "They believed in his potential, and his death was a crushing blow. They buried him here, and grieved his memory."

Remiel's gaze softened slightly. "Their grief will soon turn to joy. I am curious, however, what is the view here of life after death?"

Fluder pondered the question before responding. "The various races and cultures within the World all have their own beliefs about the afterlife. For instance, the Slane Theocracy believes in their six gods, and that their death god rules over the afterlife. Other races, like the elves and dwarves, have their own myths and legends about what happens after death, often tied to their cultural and spiritual beliefs." Fluder elaborated. He paused and took a breath before continuing.

"As an example, I have heard that the dwarves say they 'return to the stone' which is to say they return to nonexistence and non-sentience yet continue to support their people by becoming part of the earth, which they venerate. And some of the elves believe that they are to be buried in the earth, and once their bodies decay, their spirits dwell in the trees and become a part of nature."

Remiel chuckled. "How cute."

"Yes, quite." Fluder said. "Personally, I was always a skeptic in this matter. The existence of undead creatures suggests a more complex relationship with the afterlife, often seen as souls forcibly bound to the mortal plane. There are those who claim that souls return to the World itself, in some great and incomprehensible and immaterial place which is the fate of all souls. There, those souls are not aware of anything, but still exist."

Remiel took his words in, but did not respond, and stared at the skeleton digging with the shovel.

"Teacher, may I ask, what is the truth about these things?" Fluder asked.


"Good question. For this world, I can't exactly say, because I do not know." Remiel stated curtly.


The response shocked Fluder. "You… don't know?"

"Correct. Now, where I come from, in that world, death was more of a temporary inconvenience than a permanent state," Remiel said, her eyes distant. "The dead, be they Players or NPCs or whatever it may be, came back to life, sooner or later, though usually weakened. As a matter of fact..."

Her voice trailed off, and she stared into the distance, her eyes blank and her face unresponsive.

Fluder panicked. "Remiel? Remiel, can you hear me?" He called out to her, but there was no response. He reached out with his hand toward her shoulder, ready to shake her awake but…

After a tense moment, Remiel blinked and shook her head, her bright hair swaying from side to side as she seemed to regain her senses. "Forgive me. A momentary lapse."

Fluder sighed in relief. "I thought I had lost you."

"It was nothing," she assured him. "Now, where were we?"

Fluder contemplated how to answer before he chose a fairly neutral and safe response. "We were discussing the untimely demise of my student."

Remiel's eyes narrowed. In the meantime, the skeleton continued to dig. "Ah, yes. Potential squandered is a tragedy. But perhaps we can still salvage something from this. Fluder, tell me more about your abilities. How does someone as old as you still live?"

Fluder took a deep breath, pondering where to begin. "I am often called the Tri-Arts Magic Caster because I have mastered three distinct schools of magic: arcane, divine, and spiritual. This mastery has earned me respect and recognition throughout the human nations."

Remiel's interest was piqued. "And what of your longevity? How does a mortal man live to be as old as you are?"

Fluder nodded. "Around a hundred and thirty years ago, I performed a complex ritual to grant myself immortality. It involved the sacrifice of many magical creatures and items, as well as deep introspection about the nature of magic itself. However, the ritual did not grant me true immortality. Instead, it significantly slowed my aging process, allowing me to live far longer than any normal human."

"And the details of this ritual?" Remiel pressed.

"The ritual required a vast amount of magical energy, rare ingredients, and precise incantations," Fluder explained. "I began by first collecting all the things I needed, most of which came from various magical creatures and monsters. I used the blood of a vampire I slew, as it is known that vampire blood can be used in alchemy to help rejuvenate someone. I combined the blood with the essence of a rejuvenating flower called the Everbloom, and magical crystals filled to the brim with mana. Additionally, I incorporated parts of long-lived animals, such as the shell of an ancient tortoise and the essence of an immortal jellyfish, both known for their longevity."

He continued, "The centerpiece of the ritual was the heart of a Dragon Lord, a rare and potent artifact. I performed the ritual within a large bonfire, using its flames to boil the ingredients into a potent elixir. This fire, infused with powerful magical energies, helped in the transmutation process."

Fluder's expression grew distant, reminiscing about the process. "The ritual was extremely dangerous and arduous. The elixir I created was meant to transfer and extend life by drawing from the essence of the Dragon Lord and the vitality of the other components. When I drank it, I felt myself being burned from the inside. The toll it took on my body and mind was immense. I would not recommend such a procedure to anyone lightly. The results, however, allowed me to continue my quest for knowledge and power."

Remiel's eyes gleamed with interest. "Impressive dedication. For now, you'll remain human, but in the future, I may correct that."

"Correct it?" Fluder asked, his voice tinged with surprise.

"Yes. There are various races which don't age, and I am one of them. Using a simple race-change item, you should be able to become a member of one of these races and thus evade the ravages of time."

Fluder's eyes widened, a mix of astonishment and gratitude washing over him. "I... I am deeply honored by your offer. To think that such a possibility exists... It's beyond anything I could have imagined."

Remiel nodded, a slight smile playing on her lips. "I won't have my servant die to something as stupid as old age. If you are to die for me, it'll be in battle, not in your bed."

Fluder bowed deeply, his voice filled with emotion. "Thank you, Great One. I am truly grateful. The prospect of continuing my studies and exploring the depths of magic without the constraints of time... It is more than I could have ever hoped for."

The skeletal minion finally hit something solid with its shovel. Fluder gestured for it to continue, and soon the rough wooden coffin was unearthed. Fluder's heart pounded as he looked at the final resting place of his most talented student.

"Stand back," Remiel commanded. Fluder stepped aside, his eyes fixed on her.

Remiel looked at the remains with a critical eye. The once proud and brilliant Karl was now reduced to a skeletal frame, his bones brittle and covered in the remnants of his burial clothes. She reached down and picked up the skull, examining it closely.

"The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?" Remiel mused. Her gaze was intense as she stared at the skull, reflecting on the ephemeral nature of existence.

She gently placed the skull back into the coffin, her eyes glinting with determination. "But today, we defy time and death itself."

"[True Resurrection]," she intoned, as she raised her hand and a great number of arcane sigils began to float in the air around her hand. A brilliant light enveloped the coffin, and Fluder watched in awe as the spell took effect.

The light faded, and the coffin lid creaked open. Fluder's breath caught in his throat as he saw Karl, alive and whole, his flesh unblemished and his clothes worn down and decayed, sitting up, looking around in confusion with his bright brown eyes.

At that moment, Fluder's heart was filled with joy.

"Wh... where am I?" Karl mumbled, his voice shaky and weak. His eyes darted around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He tried to speak further, but only incoherent murmurs escaped his lips.

"You are back," Remiel said, a faint smile on her lips. "Welcome once more to the land of the living, boy. You have much to learn, and much to do."

Karl's eyes found Fluder, and recognition slowly dawned on his face. He tried to speak again, but his voice was still too weak, and his words came out as mumbles. However, the boy did not do anything else, as though he was genuinely confused, his trust in his teacher was such that he was willing to wait for an explanation.

Fluder fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. "Thank you, Great One. Thank you for bringing him back."

Remiel turned to him, her expression inscrutable. "Remember this moment, Fluder. There is much work to be done, and I expect your utmost dedication. Do not fail me."

Fluder nodded fervently, still overcome with emotion. "I will not fail you, Great One."

Remiel gave a curt nod. "That was a resounding success." She said as she nodded before continuing to speak. "Later today, I will bring a former slave, a young dark elf girl named Perska, to you. She is to be enrolled in the academy and provided with a private tutor."

Fluder looked up, curiosity mixing with his lingering awe. "A dark elf slave? May I ask—"

Remiel cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Her past is of no concern. What matters is her future potential. I believe she has potential, at the very least as an alchemist. You will ensure she receives the education she needs and deserves."

Fluder bowed his head. "Of course, Great One. I will see to it personally."

Remiel's gaze softened slightly. "Perska has endured much, but often it is that very same crucible that forges the strong. Treat her with the same dedication you would any of your finest students."

Fluder nodded once more, determination filling his heart. "I will. Thank you for this opportunity."

Remiel's expression returned to its usual inscrutability. "Do not disappoint me, Fluder. Remember the weight of the gifts and responsibilities you bear."

Fluder felt a renewed sense of purpose surging through him. He had been given so many gifts, and he was determined not to squander them. With steady hands and focused resolve, he approached Karl's grave.

"You won't need to spend even a moment here any longer." Fluder said.

With a deep breath, the old man knelt beside the coffin and began to help Karl out of the grave. Though Fluder was an old man, he was not a complete physical weakling. After a few moments where the boy struggled to control his limbs, he eventually managed to leave the grave. Once outside, Karl looked around in confusion, and as the reality of his situation dawned on him, he tried to vomit. Unfortunately, his stomach was empty, and all he managed was a painful grimace. Fluder's heart ached at the sight, but he knew it would soon pass after Karl had a warm meal.

Once Karl was freed from his former resting place, Fluder wasted no time. He summoned his mastery over earth magic to begin filling in the grave, while Remiel's wind magic swept the debris and remnants away with practiced precision.

The ground began to shift and settle, the grave being quickly restored to a decent state. Although rumors of the boy's resurrection would likely spread, Fluder was never one to leave a mess when it wasn't necessary.

Seemingly satisfied with his work, Remiel nodded at Fluder and spoke. "Well, now that we're done here, let's return to your office."

Without hesitation, Fluder grabbed Karl by the arm and approached Remiel, dragging the boy behind him. Remiel waited until they were sufficiently close, before her teleportation spell enveloped them in a shimmering light. With a flash, they vanished from the graveyard.

Moments later, they reappeared in the grandeur of Fluder's study. The room was lined with shelves of magical tomes and artifacts, the air filled with peace. As the shimmering light faded, Karl's stomach growled loudly, breaking the silence.

Remiel raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly. "Ah, the hunger of the freshly revived. Here, have a fishstick." She reached into her inventory and pulled out a fishstick, which she handed to Karl.

Karl accepted the fishstick with eager hands and devoured it ravenously, as if he hadn't eaten in days. Or years. Which he hadn't, really.

Fluder watched the scene with a bemused expression. "I never knew being dead made you so hungry," he remarked, shaking his head.

As Karl continued to eat, Fluder's mind raced with plans and possibilities. This was just the beginning. He would gather the knowledge Remiel sought and ensure that his students reached their full potential. For the future of Baharuth and the glory of his Great One, he would not falter.

As Karl's stomach continued to rumble, Fluder and Remiel exchanged a glance. Remiel's laugh was hearty and loud, and she began rummaging through her inventory again, ready to address Karl's newfound appetite.

 

[Lillie Jones]

Impressive
Whilst Ramiel returns to Nazarcick to report her recent developments to Overlord Ainz Gown and new recruiters Peska and Emperor Jin , Fluder for Nazarcick mysterious plans and what's Demiuge been on his side of the E Rantel Noble society.
Unexpectedly, Ramiel return to Fluder Magic School for reviving one of his promising students Karl ( a boy version of Shizu cause he summoned an fire spirit like Efirit. Along with ensuring his loyalty and upping hie fanaticism of the Great One Ramiel.
Continue on
Cheers!

 

[BenMalek]

Gharq dar Tandis-hā-ye Guzashteh​

Remiel gazed at the mountain, her mountain, on the 8th floor of Nazarick, the air crisp and cool against her skin. The ever-present storm that shrouded the mountain's peak continued to rage, never ceasing, and one would not make a mistake in thinking the storm was alive and desired victims to unleash its wrath upon.

After teleporting past the storm to the mountain's peak, her eyes fell upon a small figure playing with the Brave Lioness she had summoned earlier. The creature's golden fur glistened in the sunlight, and it seemed to be enjoying the company of the young elf girl, Perska. Perska's laughter filled the air, a delightful sound that brought a smile to Remiel's face.

"Perska," Remiel called out, her voice gentle yet commanding.

The young elf looked up, her eyes widening with joy. She immediately dropped the stick she had been using to play with the Brave Lioness and rushed towards Remiel, her small feet barely touching the ground.

"Remiel!" Perska exclaimed, throwing herself into Remiel's arms.

Remiel hugged her tightly, feeling the warmth and innocence of the child seep into her. "Hello, little one. I hope you've not been terribly bored while I've been away."

Perska nodded enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling. "Yes! I mean no! The Brave Lioness is so much fun. She's so strong and kind. And she lets me play with her tail."

Remiel chuckled. "I wouldn't recommend yanking the tail of a lion. I'm pretty sure there's a saying for that. But, I'm glad you like her," Remiel said, stroking Perska's hair. "But I need to talk to you about something important."

Perska's expression turned serious, and she stepped back, looking up at Remiel with curiosity. "Yes?"

Remiel knelt down to Perska's level, her eyes meeting the young elf's. "Perska, I want you to go to the Imperial Magic Academy, in Baharuth. I want you to learn magic and pharmacy there."

Perska's eyes widened in fear, and she took a step back. "The Academy… What's that?"

"It's like a very big school, and there's all kinds of young people there, and they're all there to learn."

"But... but the Academy.. It'll be filled with humans, right? I'm scared of them."

Remiel placed a comforting hand on Perska's shoulder. "I understand your fear, little one. They wronged you and your family, but not all of them are as bad as you imagine them to be. At the Academy, you'll have the opportunity to learn and grow. You'll become stronger and more knowledgeable."

"But what if they don't like me?" Perska whispered, her voice trembling.

Remiel smiled reassuringly. "What's there not to like? You're a joy, and they will see that. And I'll make sure you are protected. Fluder Paradyne, the head of the Academy, is a powerful and wise man. He will ensure your safety and give you the education you deserve. And he's also my servant, so he has vested interest in keeping you safe."

Perska bit her lip, still unsure. "But why can't I stay here and learn from you?"

"Because," Remiel said gently, "I believe you can achieve great things at the Academy. You'll have access to resources and knowledge that I can't provide here. That, and I too am busy and must work, and that means spending time away from you, for days perhaps. You don't want to stay trapped up here on this mountain with days on end, with no one to keep you company but the flowers, do you?"

Perska looked back at the Brave Lioness, who was now lying down, watching them with calm, golden eyes. The lioness gave a soft rumble, as if encouraging Perska.

"Do you really think I can do it?" Perska asked, her voice a mixture of hope and doubt.

"I know you can," Remiel said firmly. "You have a bright future ahead of you, Perska. The Academy is just the first step towards achieving your full potential."

Perska took a deep breath, her fear slowly giving way to determination. "Okay," she said finally. "I'll go to the Academy. I'll learn magic there. And I'll make you proud, Miss Remiel."

Remiel smiled, her heart swelling with pride as she patted the girl's head. "I'm sure you will. Now, let's go and prepare for your journey."

---

Remiel and Perska stood at the gates of the Imperial Magic Academy, the grandeur of the place only slightly intimidating to the young elf. Fluder Paradyne, with his long white beard and wise eyes, awaited them, a gentle smile on his face.

"Fluder, this is Perska," Remiel said, introducing the girl. "She will be under your care and guidance."

Fluder's eyes softened as he looked at Perska. "Welcome, Perska. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Perska clung to Remiel's side, her fear of humans still evident. Fluder knelt down to her level, his smile warm and reassuring. "You don't need to be afraid, my dear. The Academy is a place of learning and wonder."

To ease her nerves, Fluder waved his hand, casting a small spell. The air around them shimmered, and a cascade of colorful fireworks erupted above their heads, each explosion forming a beautiful pattern in the sky. Perska's eyes widened in amazement, her fear momentarily forgotten.

"Wow!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up with delight.

Fluder chuckled softly. "Magic can be quite wondrous, can't it? And you will learn to create such wonders yourself."

Remiel gently nudged Perska forward. "Go on, girl. Fluder will take good care of you."

Perska looked up at Remiel, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and excitement. "Will you visit me?"

"Of course," Remiel assured her. "I'll visit whenever I can. But I'm very busy, so I can't spend much time with you right now. Next time I visit, I'll show you some grand sights and introduce you to two other dark elf children, the twins Aura and Mare. They would be great friends together."

Perska's face brightened at the prospect. "Really? That sounds amazing!"

Fluder extended his hand to Perska, who hesitated for a moment before taking it. "Come, Perska. Let me show you around the Academy."

As they walked through the grand hallways of the Academy, Fluder pointed out various rooms and areas. "This is the library, where you will find books on every subject imaginable. And over there is the potion lab, where you will learn the art of pharmacy."

Perska's eyes were wide with wonder as she took in her new surroundings. "It's so big."

Fluder smiled. "Indeed it is. But you will soon grow accustomed to it. And you will have many friends here."

He led her to a large classroom, where several students were practicing their spells. "This is where you will learn to harness your magic. The teachers here are very knowledgeable and will help you every step of the way."

Perska looked up at Fluder, her fear slowly dissipating. "Do you think I can really do it?"

Fluder knelt down beside her, his eyes kind and encouraging. "I believe so. I have heard that you have talent, and we will help you nurture it."

Perska smiled, her confidence growing. "Thank you, Mister Fluder."

"Now," Fluder said, standing up, "let's get you settled into your new room. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

As they walked down the hallway, Perska glanced back at the entrance, where Remiel had stood.

Fluder led Perska through the winding hallways of the Imperial Magic Academy, his presence calming her nerves. They stopped at a large wooden door adorned with intricate carvings of magical symbols.

"This will be your room, Perska," Fluder said, opening the door to reveal a cozy, well-furnished dormitory room. It had two beds, each with a small desk and a bookshelf beside it. The room was warm and inviting, with sunlight streaming in through a large window.

A human girl about Perska's size was already inside, organizing her belongings on her side of the room. She had chestnut brown hair tied back in a loose braid, and her green eyes sparkled with curiosity and friendliness. She wore a neat blue-ish uniform that consisted of a jacket with gold buttons, a white blouse underneath, and a knee-length skirt. The uniform was both practical and stylish, reflecting the academy's blend of tradition and modernity.

The girl looked up as they entered, a smile spreading across her face. "Hello! You must be Perska. I'm Elara."

Perska hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, glancing back at Fluder for reassurance. He nodded encouragingly. "Go on, Perska. Elara is very friendly."

Elara walked over and extended her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Perska. I'm really excited to have a roommate. We'll have so much fun together!"

Perska shook her hand, a shy smile forming on her lips. "Nice to meet you too, Elara."

Elara's enthusiasm was infectious. "I'm so glad you're here! I love reading and experimenting with new spells, especially anything related to elemental magic. I also enjoy gardening; we have a little garden here at the academy where herbs and flowers are grown. What about you? What do you like to do?"

Perska glanced at Fluder again, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "I... I like reading too. And, um, learning about different plants."

Fluder watched the interaction with a pleased expression. He could see that Perska was beginning to warm up to her new surroundings, and Elara's friendly demeanor was certainly helping. And though he did not know why his teacher wanted the girl trained, he would obey her commands nonetheless.

As Elara continued to chat excitedly about their shared interests, Fluder gently closed the door, leaving the two girls to get acquainted. He knew that Perska was in good hands and that she would thrive at the Academy.

With a final glance back, he walked down the hallway, his mind already turning to the work that he was commissioned to do. His Great One had that her business in Arwintar was mostly concluded, and it'd be a while before they saw each other again. Until such a time came, Fluder would obey her orders and devote his hours diligently, while meditating on what went on inside such an incomprehensible mind.

---

Walking through the bustling streets of the Imperial Capital, I found myself lost in a fog of memories, the recent encounter with Fluder still haunting my thoughts. The city around me thrived with activity: merchants called out their wares, children laughed and played, and the clatter of horse-drawn carriages resonated on the cobblestone streets. Yet, I felt a profound detachment, my mind wandering through the corridors of my mind.

As Fluder had asked about the nature of the afterlife, I recalled moments from my own lifetime, or rather lifetimes? Whatever it may be, those memories seemed to have surfaced unbidden. Memories of ceremonies and celebrations, both joyous and solemn, flickered in my mind like old photographs.

I remembered attending a grand wedding, the bride radiant in her white gown, the groom standing tall and proud beside her. The hall had been filled with laughter and music, the air thick with the scent of fresh flowers. I had watched from the sidelines, a silent observer to their happiness, feeling both connected and apart. Like I never really belonged there, like it was all just for show.

Another memory surfaced of a funeral, a stark contrast to the wedding's joy. The somber tones of the priest's voice as he delivered the eulogy, the weeping mourners clad in black, and the heavy scent of incense filled the small chapel. I had stood at the back, contemplating the fragile nature of life and the inevitability of death, emotions too complex to untangle swirling within me. I don't even know who it was that died and was buried, who they were to me, or where and when it happened, but the event was there, in my mind.

Religious services were another constant in my past, their rituals and prayers a backdrop to my existence. I remembered the soft hum of hymns, the flickering candles casting shadows on ancient stone walls, and the feeling of reverence that permeated the space. These moments, steeped in tradition and faith, had always left me with a sense of peace, yet also a longing for answers that remained elusive. A question asked over and over again. Why?

As I continued to walk, the lively scenes of street performers and festival celebrations came to mind. The people or Arwintar seemed to be rather careless and callous towards the crimes of their countrymen. But can I blame them? They must rise and go out and work then sleep. They are mortal, limited by their biological needs and their own lack of power and understanding. Were I one of them, would I really care about things like justice or purpose, or would I simply care that I have what I need day to day and that I can find some small amount of joy where and when I could?

The vibrant colors, the exuberant dances, and the shared laughter of communities coming together in joy and unity. It seemed that this world had its own joy, unperturbed by the powers that loomed in the shadow, invisible until they struck, like a serpent in the grass.

They carry on with their lives, ever ignorant. They do not know that if Lord Ainz were to give the order, not a single creature would survive. And should they?

They are born, they live, they die, and all that is left of them is the memories others have of them.


Yet, amidst my memories, if they belong to me that is, which I am still somewhat skeptical of, there were darker, more introspective moments. I recalled standing alone in a cemetery, the air thick with the weight of loss. The cold, grey tombstones seemed to echo the silence within my soul. I remember cleaning the tombstone, dirty from the muddy rain, cracked from the heat of the sun. I remember becoming enraged upon seeing a random dog urinate on it, and grabbing a nearby stone, throwing it at the mutt, braining it at that same moment and watching its lifeblood spill, the earth drinking it greedily. I remember thinking that it was a bad moment, a sin, to kill an animal in that manner, and I also remember distinctly enjoying it when the dog died.


I think had often pondered the mysteries of life and death in such places, holy places and cemeteries, grappling with questions that had no clear answers.

Fluder's question about the afterlife had touched a nerve, bringing these memories to the forefront. I had seen so much in my time, experienced the full spectrum of human emotion, yet I know that by my nature I am ageless. I do not 'grow' nor do I grow old. As I am now, I have always been that way and I always will be. And before coming to this World, I had never left the Great Tomb.

The dead back in Yggdrasil had always returned, a temporary state, a mere speedblock, rather than a permanent one. It was attested from every possible source and every person. But here, in this world, the rules were different. Death was final, that is unless an outside force intervened.

As I walked through the city, I noticed a young couple walking hand in hand, their faces glowing with the excitement of youth and love. I couldn't help but smile, reminded of similar moments I had witnessed in my past. Nearby, a group of children were gathered around a street performer, their eyes wide with wonder as he performed tricks and illusions. Their laughter was infectious, and for a moment, I smiled.

I passed by a small bakery, the scent of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. It brought about a feeling of nostalgia, though I knew not why. What need have I for food, or water, or even air? I don't need those things. I never have.

Continuing my walk, I came upon a birthday celebration in a small courtyard. The guests, both young and old, were gathered around a large table laden with food and gifts. The birthday child, a little girl with sun-kissed skin, tiny white teeth with gaps between them, an infectious smile that went from ear to ear, was wearing a crown of flowers. The girl was beaming with joy. It was a heartwarming scene.

Eventually, I found myself in a park, a serene oasis amidst the city's hustle and bustle. It was no Nazarick, but it was a quaint place that nonetheless offered some measure of peace. Stone benches were scattered around, and a small fountain gurgled softly in the center. The trees, tall and strong oak, provided a canopy of shade, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers.

I sat down on one of the benches, the cool stone a welcome relief. My mind was still a whirlwind of thoughts and memories, but the tranquility of the park helped me find some semblance of peace. I pondered what to do now that Baharuth had effectively been conquered. What to do next? There were so many nations to take care of, and those were just the ones I knew of, the ones in the immediate vicinity.

My thoughts drifted back to a past conversation with a particular man. I remembered the discussion with that priest in E-Rantel, his self-righteousness and narrow-mindedness, and just plain ignorance infuriating me. He dogmatically insisted and spoke with the words that only someone brought up in a belief system that had never questioned it could. The mortal thought he knew what constituted divinity. The fool. I could grasp him by the neck and fly above the atmosphere, and show him that there is nothing above the world but the void between the sun and stars.

In contrast, my conversation with Fluder had been enlightening, though it had stirred up old wounds. When he asked about the afterlife, and my response had been uncertain, my mind clouded with memories of my own experiences.

When I told him about the nature of death in Yggdrasil, my words had trailed off as I became lost in thought.

Among these reflections, one of the most powerful ones was my first moment of existence. I recalled my awakening for the first time in Nazarick. Seeing my creator, Wish III, a powerful genie, filled me with awe. He was a figure of immense power, his presence commanding and enigmatic. I remembered the joy in his eyes when he first saw me awaken, a creator proud of his creation. Yet, there was also a solemnity to him, a weight that he carried. He spoke animatedly with his friends, the fellow Supreme Beings of Nazarick, and bragged to them all the while about me, stating that I was a perfect masterpiece.

Those words made me feel proud to be.

A particular memory stood out: Wish III sitting down next to me, reading from something called the "One Thousand and One Nights." His voice was soothing, each word weaving a tapestry of stories filled with magic and wonder. He did not speak in Japanese, which was and is the language most of the Supreme Being spoke in, but the language he used was a beautiful language nonetheless. I remember wanting to break free at that moment and talk to him about so many things and hug him. But I could not.

I wanted to, but I could not. I never hugged him. He was my father and I never told him that I loved him. Why? What stopped me?

This memory, bittersweet, stood in stark contrast to the brutal defense of Nazarick during the attack by the Eight Guild Alliance. I remembered the chaos, the desperation, and just how much I terrified the mongrels that dared invade my home. It took them more than a dozen to even give me a sweat, yet when I summoned Behemoth and they saw that they could do little to him but make him stronger, they shivered in fear. Nevertheless, they slew the beast, and by that time I had already used my trump cards and my strength was spent. Soon after Behemoth fell, I followed him.

The memory of a spear catching me in the chest, thrown by that shirtless human, the shock and pain as it pierced through me, was vivid and visceral.

I had never hated anyone so much as I hated that man at that moment. He had killed me. He made me fail my duty. I wanted to rip him apart with my own hands.

As I sat on the bench, I couldn't help but wonder what had truly happened in the past and what lay ahead in the future. These memories, how much did they affect who and what I was? I knew that each of the NPCs, including myself, from the maids to the Floor Guardians, had a unique personality, granted to them by their creator.

Like a symphony, each musical instrument was unique, but meant to work in concert, producing something greater than the sum of its parts. Yet…


The sun had begun to set. How long had I lingered here? It was noon when I was at the academy.

No matter.

Yes, the park was a place of solace, a momentary escape from the weight of my thoughts, but I still had work to do, and could not linger here forever.

I have been handed authority from Lord Ainz to act with near complete autonomy. It's a privilege I think only Demiurge and Albedo have been awarded beside myself. It's a sign of his trust in me. It's a sign that I cannot fail.

Baharuth is for all intents and purposes, conquered. Maybe I should visit that priest in E-Rantel once more. I promised myself that I'd smite the man. Once I do, I'll know what I must do next. Perhaps I should visit the Theocracy next?

 

[Faber_The_Builder]

She's slowly waking up. Wonder how she'll assimilate those new memories.

TFC!

 

[Lillie Jones]

Ramiel returns to Nazarcick and accompanies Peska to the her new magic school , which Fluder takes his duties seriously ( never in question) though. Considering that Peska has been through a traumatic experience with PTSD towards humans .
Unexpectedly, Ramiel human memories of her previous life before the Nazarcick life came to be are finally begun to assimilate into her Overlord floor Guardian. Or vise versa
Continue on
Cheers!

 

[BenMalek]

Hasard au Mauvais Endroit​

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting an eerie glow over the open plains. The road from E-Rantel to Re-Estize's capital stretched out, a ribbon of dirt cutting through the landscape. Not far from the road, a hill rose up, its rocky face dotted with the entrances to a network of caves. Brita and her team crouched in the shadows, their eyes fixed on the largest of these entrances.

"Alright, this is it," Brita whispered, her voice barely audible over the gentle rustling of the night breeze. "We split here. Half of us will attack from the front entrance. The rest will come in from the secret entrance we found. We'll trap them inside."

The group nodded in agreement, checking their weapons and gear one last time. Brita's keen eyes scanned her comrades: the burly man with the scar, the slender man with the mischievous grin, the stern-faced woman with piercing eyes, and the young, eager woman with bright eyes. Each one was ready, determined to prove themselves.

"Alright," Brita continued, "you three come with me. The rest of you, head to the front entrance. We move in sync—no one goes in until we're all in position."

"Got my bombs ready," the tall man said with a grin, patting a satchel slung over his shoulder.

The slender man nodded, holding up a pouch filled with caltrops. "We'll scatter these to slow them down if they try to escape."

"I've got healing potions and some antidotes," the young woman added, her expression serious. "Just in case things go south."

"Good," Brita said, a determined edge in her voice. "We have the element of surprise. Let's use it."

The team split silently, their movements reflecting their practiced stealth. Brita led her group towards the hidden entrance they had scouted earlier, a narrow fissure in the rock that led into the cave system. The moonlight bathed the hill in a soft silver glow, casting the entrance into shadow and shrouding their approach.

At about thirty feet from the entrance, Brita signaled for a halt. The source of her caution was clear: the distant, anguished scream of a man cut through the night, a chilling cry that even reached them from their current position.

Brita drew her steel, her companions mimicking her actions with swift precision. They exchanged nervous glances but remained silent, their focus sharpening on the unsettling sounds ahead.

Brita motioned for her team to advance cautiously, each member moving with a heightened sense of urgency. The forest around them was unnaturally quiet, the usual nighttime sounds hushed by the eerie atmosphere.

Suddenly, a figure burst from the side tunnel, sprinting past them with a frantic energy. Brain Unglaus, the renowned blue-haired swordsman, emerged from the darkness, his eyes wide with terror. Tears streamed down his face as he fled, barely acknowledging the team's presence.

"Is that… Brain Unglaus?" one of Brita's companions asked, his voice trembling.

"Yeah, it is," another replied, astonishment clear in his tone. "What could have happened to him? He's one of the best swordsmen around—why would he be fleeing like that?"

"I've heard stories about him," a third companion added, trying to piece together the scene. "He was supposed to be in that big tournament, wasn't he? Lost just narrowly to Gazef Stronoff."

Brita glanced at her companions, noting their concerned expressions. "Forget about Brain for now. Focus on what's coming next."

Before anyone could respond, the tunnel from which Brain had fled began to expel a new horror. Emerging from the darkness was a figure that defied all reason. The vampire was clad in a raggedy black dress, the tatters of fabric fluttering wildly as she moved. She scuttled forward on both her arms and legs, her movement resembling a maddened beast more than a creature of grace.

Her eyes were a fiery crimson, gleaming with an insatiable bloodlust that seemed to emanate from every pore of her being. Her skin was ashen, and the sight of her in that grotesque posture sent shivers down the spines of the team. There was no elegance in her approach, just raw, unfiltered carnage and madness.

The vampire's gaze briefly met theirs, a fleeting moment that filled the team with an icy dread. The terror was immediate and overwhelming, like a crushing weight on their chests. The air grew heavy with a sense of impending doom.

---

Shalltear's POV

Shalltear licked her lips, tasting the blood of her latest victim. The madness of her bloodlust slowly ebbed, but the hunger still gnawed at her insides. She surveyed the carnage, satisfied with the destruction she had wrought. The mercenaries had been nothing more than cattle, led to the slaughter, ambushed and trapped though they knew not why and how, their lives snuffed out in an instant.

"More... need more..." she muttered, her voice a harsh whisper. The thrill of the hunt was intoxicating, but it left her craving more.

A distant sound caught her attention, and she turned to see one of her minions approaching. The Vampire Bride knelt before her, her voice silky smooth and seductive. "Mistress Shalltear, we destroyed a group of humans who tried to enter from the cave entrance. A man among them claims there is a second group who will attack the cave from the hidden entrance."

Shalltear's crimson eyes narrowed, a wicked smile spreading across her face. "The one the blue-haired man used to run away? Excellent. More prey for me. That human was such a tease. Shame he ran away. Oh well! Better luck next time!"

She moved swiftly, her form a blur as she emerged from the cave and into the moonlit night. Ahead, she spotted the approaching group—another band of adventurers, it seemed. Red covered her sight, and she knew death would follow. The cattle were frozen in fear.

As she drew closer, she caught sight of a large group of adventurers, numbering half a dozen. There was a rather cute face among them. A red-haired woman that would definitely earn herself at least a temporary place in her harem. An abominable fire of rage and hunger and lust ignited within Shalltear, and she lunged forward with terrifying speed. All she could think about was violating and penetrating and drinking from the woman.

"Blood... need blood!" she screamed, her claws slashing through the air.

First was a man who tried to rush Shalltear with a spear. It was a pathetic attempt, as she somersaulted over his lunge and decapitated him with a swift strike of her nails, sharper than steel.

The blood burst from his neck like a fountain, and before his head had even dropped to the floor, Shalltear had lunged at a woman who looked like a priestess, the woman lifting her hands in a pathetic attempt at fighting back. There was no chance for the woman however.

Shalltear bit into her sweet and pale neck, and drank her dry in seconds, the woman's form becoming a shriveled husk.

A crossbowman companion of Brita shot a bolt aimed at the beast while it was feasting on the priestess, but it bounced off her skin like it was less than a pebble.

One of Brita's companions saw this, and took decisive action. The tall man took out one of the alchemic bombs he carried in his leather pouch. The bomb was crafted by the magicians at the Mages Guild, and functioned by emitting intense heat to more or less burn whatever it hit alive instead of just exploding. The man lit the fuse and threw it at the vampire, straight on.

It landed straight.

The vampire did not burn. It didn't even seem to notice the fire that was snuffed out near-instantaneously. As recompense toward the man however, the orb above her head that had been collecting blood from her victims all this time, shot out a crystallized stake of blood, no bigger than a finger. The speed of the object was too fast for the adventurers to even see, but they did see the devastation of said stake when it collided with the man's skull, exploding it into a hundred juicy pieces.

All the while, the vampire was screaming and laughing and breathing raggedly, like some demon out of hell.


"This is hell!" one of the adventurer's shouted in a panic, the man's courage broken, and the man ran away as fast as he could toward the forest, which wasn't far. He ran away bravely in fear of his life. Shalltear let him. She'd catch him later.

"It's only fun if they run." The thought was so instinctual to her that even in her bloodlusted state, Shalltear relished the hunt of the fleeing prey.

A bowman, standing not far from the crossbow man's corpse, fired again, but just as the bolt did nothing, so too did the arrow do nothing. Nothing but anger her.

The vampire swiftly leapt toward the blonde-haired man and using her claws, raked the man across the chest, tearing apart pounds of blood, bone and flesh, leaving giant claw-marks in the man's corpse as an autograph.




As Shalltear began to feast on the man's still-beating heart, Brita's eyes widened in horror. The scene was nightmarish; the vampire's voracious consumption was done with a speed and ferocity that left her companions paralyzed with dread. One of the men, overcome by fear, urinated himself. The acrid smell of urine filled the air, and Shalltear's rage was immediately provoked. She sprang at the man, decapitating him with a swift swipe of her claws.


In a desperate move, Brita threw a vial of something at Shalltear. The vampire didn't care about the vial, as it could not hurt her, but when the contents of the vial splashed onto her arm and it burned her, and she saw that the contents of the vial was a potion, a red healing potion, she stopped in her place.

Shalltear's mind raced. She knew this potion. It was an Yggdrasil healing potion, something that should harm her, given her undead nature. But she realized that mortal healing potions were typically blue. This red potion was an anomaly, and its presence was unsettling.

Fear and rage warred within her as she realized the implications.

"Did I mess up the master's plans?" Shalltear thought, fear mingling with her rage. "Is this woman important?"

Her bloodlust momentarily cooled by the realization, Shalltear commanded her orb to shoot out a few more crystallized stakes, ending the lives of the remaining adventurers in an instant. Her focus then returned to Brita, who was trembling and backing away in fear.



Shalltear commanded her orb to shoot out a few more crystallized stakes that instantly ended the lives of the few other survivors so far, before standing upright, her monstrous form giving way to her perfectly chiseled visage of beauty.


Shalltear's hand reached out and grasped the woman by her neck, lifting her up as easily as one would lift up a daisy from the ground. Her crimson eyes met the woman's green.

"Serve me." Shalltear commanded, and within moments the woman lost all willpower and became nothing but a slave, her voice weak and her eyes glassy.

"Where did you get this?" Shalltear demanded, her voice a barely restrained growl, beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.

Brita, trembling, tried to back away. "It was... it was given to me by an adventurer in E-Rantel!"

Shalltear's eyes blazed with fury. "You lie!" She lunged forward, grabbing Brita by the throat and lifting her off the ground. "Tell me the truth, or I will drain you dry!"

Brita's eyes rolled back in her head as Shalltear's hypnotic gaze bore into her. "The adventurer... was from the Adventurer's Guild... He said it was a gift... for helping him..."

Shalltear's mind raced. If this potion was connected to Ainz-sama, she had to know more. But first, she had to deal with this intruder. "You will tell me everything you know," she commanded, her voice a chilling whisper.

Brita nodded weakly, her will completely bent to Shalltear's. "Yes... I will tell you everything..."

Shalltear's grip tightened, and she began to interrogate Brita, searching for the information she needed. Her mind filled with images and thoughts, and she pieced together the puzzle with a growing sense of dread. If Ainz-sama's plans had been disrupted, she would be held accountable. The weight of that realization bore down on her, but she pushed it aside. She had a task to complete.

Satisfied with Brita's compliance, Shalltear released her, letting her body fall limply to the ground. She summoned her vampiric minions, dark creatures of the night emerging from the shadows. Wolves and bats with eyes glowing like embers awaited her command.

"Find the ranger, wherever he is!" Shalltear ordered. "We cannot afford any loose ends!"

---

The Forest of Tob loomed ahead, its dense foliage casting shadows under the pale moonlight. The Black Scripture moved with purpose, their senses sharpened by the gravity of their mission. Their target was the Catastrophe Dragon Lord, a being of immense power that threatened the very stability of the Slane Theocracy.

The Captain led the way, his androgynous features and long black hair giving him an almost ethereal appearance under the moonlight. His sharp red eyes scanned the surroundings, ever alert for any sign of danger. Clad in ornate armor and wielding a humble-looking spear, he exuded an aura of calm determination.

"Did anyone catch that play in Re-Estize last week?" Time Turbulence asked, adjusting his spiral-patterned rapier. "I heard it was quite the spectacle."

Callous Lancer chuckled, his short blond hair glinting in the moonlight. "You mean the one about the rogue knight and the princess? I saw it. The effects were impressive, especially for a theater production."

Lady Kaire, dressed in her white cheongsam embroidered with a golden dragon, smiled softly. "I didn't see it, but I've heard good things. Perhaps we should catch it when we return."

One Man Army, Quaiesse Hazia Quintia, tightened his grip on the rings that contained his tamed beasts. "My sister would have loved it. She always had a soft spot for those romantic tales."

Callous Lancer chided him. "You really can't let your sister go, even after all this time. Even after all she's done?"

One Man Army had no response.

Cedran, the tall, muscular man known for his stern demeanor, crossed his arms. "I heard Lady Kaire's niece got married recently. How was the ceremony?"

Lady Kaire's serene expression softened further. "It was beautiful. A small gathering, but filled with love and joy. They make a lovely couple."

Infinite Magic, with her frail appearance belying her immense power, spoke up. "Speaking of gatherings, I saw an intriguing magical trinket at the market. A small orb that changes color based on the holder's mood. Quite a novelty."

Beaumarchais, Divine Chain, added, "Sounds like something the old man would have enjoyed playing with. He had a fondness for unusual items, at least before he became a cardinal."

"You knew him? Before, I mean?" Cedran asked.

"I did. He's a lot more boring now, to be honest." Beamarchais replied,and it caused Cedran to chuckle.

The Captain, ever focused, allowed himself a small smile. "It's good to hear about such things. It reminds us of what we're protecting."

The mood was light, the camaraderie palpable as they moved deeper into the forest. The silence was unnerving, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves. The group communicated with subtle hand signals and brief whispers, maintaining their stealth as they advanced.

"Captain," Thousand Leagues Astrologer called softly, pointing ahead. "There's something up ahead."

The Captain raised a hand, signaling for the group to halt. They crouched low, blending into the shadows, as they listened intently. The faint rustle of leaves and the distant howl of a creature broke the silence, but there was something else—something closer.

"There's something ahead," the Captain murmured, his eyes narrowing. "Prepare yourselves."

The Black Scripture moved forward cautiously, their senses on high alert. As they approached a clearing, the sight that met their eyes was both unexpected and horrifying. Corpses of mercenaries lay scattered around, their bodies mutilated and drained of blood. The stench of death hung heavy in the air.

"These wounds... they're fresh," Kaire noted, examining one of the bodies. "Whatever did this is still nearby."

A sudden, guttural growl echoed through the clearing, sending a shiver down their spines. Emerging from the shadows, monstrous creatures with glowing red eyes and blood-soaked fangs appeared. Terrifying and unnatural wolves, bigger and meaner than any normal wolf born in she-wolfs womb, their mouths slick with gore, had found them. And they looked ready to spill blood.

"Engage!" the Captain commanded, and the Black Scripture sprang into action.

Time Turbulence and Callous Lancer moved with practiced precision, their weapons cutting through the air with deadly accuracy. Infinite Magic invoked powerful spells, casting lightning bolts that illuminated the dark trees that loomed ominously above them. One Man Army jumped into the fight with his short swords, not willing to unleash his summoned beasts just yet.

The battle was fierce but swift. The Black Scripture's coordinated attacks and overwhelming power quickly subdued the vampiric wolves, leaving a pile of lifeless bodies in their wake. It wasn't even a challenge to them.

"These are no ordinary beasts," Cedran said, wiping blood from his blade. "They're summoned creatures. Someone is controlling them."

Before anyone could respond, a figure emerged from the darkness. A mad figure, covered head to toe in blood, with ashy skin and glowing crimson eyes. They all knew what it was.

A vampire.

---

The creatures of the night dispersed into the forest, their forms melting into the darkness as they began their search. Shalltear remained in the shadows, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts as she considered the implications of the potion and the potential disruption to her master's plans.

As Shalltear's vampiric minions dispersed into the forest, her mind buzzed with thoughts. The red potion was a glaring anomaly, a potential threat to Ainz-sama's intricate plans. She couldn't afford to let any detail slip past her scrutiny.

Her moment of contemplation was abruptly shattered. Through the mental link she shared with her summons, she felt a sudden, jarring disruption. One by one, the connections to her wolves and bats were severed with a horrifying finality.

"What?" Shalltear's eyes widened in shock, her heart pounding in her chest. "My minions... all of them... dead?"

The wolves that had dashed into the forest, and the bats that had flown among the trees, all searching for the escaped ranger, were gone. An icy dread crept through Shalltear's veins, mingling with a burning rage.

"Who dares?" she thought, her mind consumed by a seething fury. Her bloodlust surged, obliterating any semblance of rational thought. Her body contorted, adopting a monstrous form as she dropped onto all fours.

She growled, her voice a guttural snarl, spoken words becoming an impossibility. Her eyes, burning with rage, scanned the forest ahead. She launched herself forward, racing through the forest with a speed and ferocity that would put the fastest hunters of nature to shame. Her limbs moved in a savage rhythm, propelling her forward like a maddened beast.

Branches whipped against her, leaves rustling in her wake as she closed the distance to the source of her rage. The appeal of murder filled her heart, driving her to the brink of madness.

As she burst through the trees, she saw them—a group of twelve humans, each one distinct in appearance, their presence an affront to her existence. Their armor and weapons gleamed in the moonlight, reflecting an eerie, cold light. Some wore heavy plate armor, others donned lighter, more flexible garb, and a few were dressed in robes, marking them as spellcasters. The diversity in their equipment and attire indicated a group of formidable warriors, each specialized in their own deadly craft.

Shalltear's eyes locked onto one figure in particular. The aura of power surrounding this human marked them as the strongest of the group. The captain, with androgynous features and sharp red eyes, stood at the forefront. The captain's presence was commanding, exuding a confidence that only fueled Shalltear's fury.

"You! You're to blame!" Shalltear's thoughts were a chaotic whirl as her bloodlust surged, overwhelming any semblance of rational thought.

The other humans turned towards the source of the noise, their expressions shifting from confusion to alarm as they beheld the charging vampire. But Shalltear's focus was unyielding, her gaze locked onto the captain. Her claws extended, ready to rend flesh from bone, her fangs bared in a snarl of unrestrained ferocity.

"Die!" Shalltear roared, her voice filled with a murderous intent as she lunged at the captain, aiming to instantly kill. But the captain, reacting with remarkable speed, leaped away from her initial strike. Shalltear's claws slashed through empty air, her prey narrowly escaping her deadly grasp.

Confusion and anger roared within Shalltear, her rage intensifying. How could a mere human evade her? Her eyes blazed with renewed fury as she whipped around, her bloodlust driving her to attack again.

She would not let any of them survive.

AN: We're getting into it now.

 

[Lillie Jones]

Shall tears Here and you can guess where things are going from here on out, especially when Shall Tears mysterious brainwashed by a mysterious higher being comes into play after this recent developments with Brita and her Master Ainz Gown intricate master planning for E Rantel kingdom.
Continue on
Cheers!

 

[DarkNacho]

On the way, maybe we can also experiment with trying to breed potentially beneficial genetic traits from valuable humans or godkin into the Imperial bloodline. It's an idea of Demiurge's.

Click to shrink...

Is Remial going to have some kids ?
I mean if they are going to experiment, starting with Nazarik is a good idea, loyal and powerfull future kids. Also fun thing of what a Devil like Deniurgue and Her can produce

 

[BenMalek]

Za'am HaMalach​

The small room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the flickering candle beneath the idol of the fire god. Priest Lamar finished reading from his holy book, his lips moving in silent prayer. He placed the book down with reverence and struck a match, lighting the candle with practiced ease. The flame danced in the dimness, casting an orange glow over the room.

"Vishnu Arash. O Great God of Fire. You, whose wrath burns bright. May you illuminate my path, shine your light upon the truth, and burn away all evil and falsehoods," Lamar intoned, his voice filled with devotion. The red statue depicted a man in armor, holding a torch in one hand and a sword in the other. " A small altar beneath the statue held the candle Lamar had lit.

The priest prostrated himself before the idol, his forehead touching the cold stone floor. "Oh, great god of the flames, guide me with your light, protect me with your warmth," he prayed earnestly.

When he lifted his head, he jumped back in fear. There, seated on the chair beneath the shelf that held the idol, was a figure cloaked in shadow. The light from the candle revealed her slowly, and recognition struck him like a bolt of lightning.

The figure leaned back in the chair, her glowing eyes fixed on him with an intensity that made his heart race. "Priest Lamar," she said, her voice calm and unwavering.

Lamar's mouth went dry, and he scrambled to his feet, backing away. "W-who are you? What are you doing here? This is a sacred place!"

The woman tilted her head slightly, her expression one of slight humor. "A sacred place," she repeated. "Right. Of course it is. How could I forget?" She chuckled. "If so, then you, Priest Lamar, have defiled it with your deeds."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered, trying to muster some semblance of authority. "I have served the gods faithfully. For half a century I've been in the faith, ever since I was a boy, and not once have I strayed!"

"Have you?" She asked, as her gaze bore into him, and he felt as though she could see right through him.

"I've heard your voice! We spoke before! You were asking about the descent of the gods, and-" he said, suddenly recalling their past encounter, but he was cut off.

She ignored his words. "You, who have neglected the orphan, the widow, the needy, the lame, the cripple, and the blind?"

Lamar's eyes widened. "I have done no such thing! What proof do you have?"

"I have the word of those you wronged," she replied coldly. "Do you mean to tell me they are all liars and you are not? As a matter of fact, I myself had to heal a cripple that you did not, but could have easily. The man risked life and gave limb for his nation, so that you could be safe, and you couldn't even heal him?"

Lamar's face paled, and he took another step back. "I... I...The rules prohibit us from performing healing without accepting payment. It would lead to widespread abuse of our generosity." He grumbled.

At that moment he felt an overwhelming pressure descend upon him, threatening to crush him where he was, but it vanished swiftly.

"How convenient for your faith. You really are the scum of the earth."

"I-


"Silence. Shall I remind you of your deeds?" she continued. "The orphan who came to you for food, whom you turned away because he had nothing to offer in return. The widow who begged for help, whom you scorned because her plea interrupted your dinner. The needy who sought shelter, whom you denied because you could not profit from their misery."

She rose from the chair, and he took another step back. "You have grown fat on the tithes of the faithful while the poor starve. Your belly wobbles with each step you take. You preach humility, yet you adorn yourself with gold and jewels. You speak of vows, yet you break them without a second thought."

Tears welled up in the priest's eyes. "Please... have mercy."

"Mercy?" Her eyes flashed with anger. "Did you show mercy to those who needed it most?"

Lamar gulped, the reality of his sins crashing down on him. Was the woman right? Had he been failing his flock?

Was the woman right? Was she?

"Your gods are dead, Lamar," she said, her voice devoid of any compassion. "They do not exist. If they ever did, they were likely just powerful mortals that your people deified. You used their name to justify your greed and hypocrisy."

The weight of her words pressed down on him, and he fell to his knees. "But I am alive. And your gods do not judge you. I do. And I judge you guilty."

Lamar's eyes widened in terror. "No, please! Not that!"

Ignoring his pleas, Remiel spoke. "[Power Word: Incinerate]."

The priest's screams filled the room as he spontaneously combusted, flames consuming him entirely. His cries of agony were short-lived, and soon, only the crackling of the fire remained.

---

Stepping out of the church, the sense of disappointment clung to me. Destroying the priest had not brought the satisfaction I sought. His screams, instead of providing solace, only echoed emptily within me. It was as if the act of judgment had hollowed me out further. I still had no answers.

As I walked through the city, the noises coming from the Adventurer's Guild caught my attention. The commotion at this hour was strange. A crowd had gathered, and at its center was a young man—frantic, covered in blood and mud, his eyes wide with terror. My curiosity piqued, I moved closer, blending into the crowd and listening intently.

The man's voice trembled as he spoke. "It was a massacre! We were out hunting bandits, not far from here—maybe an hour's journey. But then... she appeared."

His breath hitched, eyes darting around as if expecting the monster to reappear. "She looked like a demon. A vampire. Her mouth... it was unholy! It was circular, like a lamprey's, with a tongue that lashed out. Her hair was raggedy, uncouth, and her skin was ashen. And her eyes—those red, maddened eyes—full of rage and murder."

The crowd gasped, some with skepticism, others with growing panic. "How did you survive?" someone asked, voice tinged with disbelief.

"I don't know," he replied, voice cracking. "I ran. I just ran as fast as I could. It happened not far from here, maybe an hour ago. I thought I was going to die. I could feel her eyes on me the whole way."

"Why were you there in the first place?" another person asked.

"We were hunting bandits," he explained. "But we didn't expect to find a vampire. She was too strong, too fast. We didn't stand a chance."

A higher-level adventurer, sensing the growing panic, stepped forward and placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "Calm down. You need to go inside the guild and talk to someone higher up before creating a panic out here."

The man nodded but continued his frantic account. "You don't understand!" The man shouted as he shaked the adventurer." She cut through us like we were nothing, with just her fingers! First, she decapitated Jim with a single swipe. Then, she ripped Dave's heart out. I saw her bite into Lisa, draining her dry in seconds. The blood of my companions pooled into a crimson orb that floated above her head. It was... horrific. I barely escaped."

My mind raced with thoughts. A vampire in E-Rantel? This was a matter that required investigation. The description of the creature—the circular mouth, the ashen skin, the blood orb—sounded eerily familiar. Could it be... No, there's no way it could be her. She's not that stupid to leave a survivor, right?

"How strong was she?" someone else in the crowd asked.

"Unbelievably strong," the man replied. "She tore through us like we were paper. It wasn't just her strength, though. It was the sheer malice in her eyes. I've never seen anything like it."

The higher-level adventurer, sensing the growing panic, interjected again. "You need to speak to the guild master," he said, guiding the man toward the guild doors. "They need to know what's out there."

As the man was led inside, muttering about the short silver-haired demon, the crowd began to disperse, but I remained still, piecing together the implications of what I had heard. The details gnawed at me, each one reinforcing a growing suspicion, and the last two sealed the deal.

Short, silver hair, skin like ash, red eyes, maddened, bloodlusted, incredibly sadistic, brutal and powerful. That was her alright. And that worried me.

Shalltear's actions were not just reckless—they were dangerously stupid. If she was truly behind this, then who knows what the ramifications of this could be. Word of the massacre would spread, and the last thing we needed was undue attention.

I turned away from the guild, my mind rushing. There was no time to waste.

With each step, memories of Shalltear's previous attacks filled my mind. The brutal efficiency with which she dispatched her foes, the speed and ferocity of her movements, and the unquenchable bloodlust in her eyes. The scene described by the young man matched her modus operandi perfectly.

I quickened my pace, heading towards a secluded alleyway where I could think without interruption. The streets of E-Rantel seemed unusually quiet, the usual bustle subdued as if the city itself sensed the looming threat.

As I reached the alley, I couldn't help but feel a pang of unease. Shalltear was a force of nature, a monster beyond comprehension. Facing her and pulling her back from her madness would be no small task. But I had to try. For the sake of Nazarick, and for my own peace of mind.

Before anything else, I tried reaching out to Shalltear using [Message]. The spell should have connected easily, but there was no response. The silence was unnerving. Either she was too far gone in her bloodlust to respond, or something else was at play.

Momentarily, my civilian clothes were replaced by the armor my creator had given me. The familiar weight of the armor, the protective enchantments, and the sense of power it brought calmed my mind. I was ready.

I took a deep breath, unfurled my wings, and then, with a burst of speed that shattered the sound barrier, I flew off towards the direction the young man had indicated. The wind whipped past me, but my mind was focused on one thing: finding Shalltear and stopping her madness.

The landscape blurred beneath me as I soared through the night sky. The forest loomed ahead, a dark mass of trees and shadows. As I descended, I could smell the metallic tang of blood, the stench thick in the air. I landed silently outside a cave, where the ground was littered with the remains of Shalltear's victims. Limbs and torsos were strewn about, the grass stained red. It was a horrific sight, a testament to Shalltear's bloodlust.

My attention was drawn to a young girl, barely conscious, being drained by one of Shalltear's Vampire Brides. Her neck bore fresh bite marks, and her pale skin was almost translucent. The Bride's eyes were closed in ecstasy, her lips stained crimson.

"Enough!" I roared, my voice filled with wrath. The two Vampire Brides, startled, looked up from their feast. One of them, still licking her lips, seemed unperturbed, while the other took a step back, fear flashing in her eyes.

"Lady Remiel," the more cautious Bride began, bowing her head slightly. "We did not expect you."

"I am not here for pleasantries," I snapped. "Where is Shalltear?"

The braver of the two, the one still savoring the blood, sneered. "We serve Shalltear, not you. Our loyalty is to her alone."

I glared at them, my patience wearing thin. "And where is she now? You should have been keeping track of her! Do you even know what she's done, fools! Her actions have drawn notice to Nazarick! Already, word of her deeds spreads across the realm!" And more the pity we cannot stop it, only contain it.

The cautious Bride stammered, "Lady Shalltear... she moves swiftly, and her desires are... unpredictable."

"That is no excuse!" I chastised them. "You are supposed to be her subordinates. You should know her movements at all times."

The sneering Bride rolled her eyes. "Why do you pester us? Lady Shalltear does as she pleases, as she always has. We cannot always—"

Before she could finish her excuse, I lifted my hand, my sword blazing with holy fire. "Impudent fool!"

With a swift motion, I brought my sword down, cleaving her in two. The blade cut through her with ease, leaving nothing but ash and blackened bones in its wake. Her final expression was one of terror, her eyes wide in disbelief as the fire consumed her.

The surviving Bride fell to her knees, her face a mask of horror and desperation.

"Please, Lady Remiel, have mercy!" she begged, prostrating herself before me. "I saw Shalltear head into the forest. A man escaped, and she's probably chasing him!"

She was trembling uncontrollably, her long brown hair cascading down her back in disheveled waves. Her red eyes were wide with fear, and her skimpy white dress clung to her form, barely offering any protection. She was tall and slender, her pale skin contrasting starkly with her dark hair.

The other Vampire Bride, now a heap of ash and blackened bones, had been a similar sight before her demise. She was shorter, her long brown hair styled in loose curls that framed her face. Her red eyes had been filled with a twisted delight before her end. Her revealing dress was now nothing more than a pile of charred remains, her body reduced to dust. The sight of her charred remains did nothing to lessen the burning anger in my chest. The only thing left of recognition was a pale white skull with sharp fangs.

"It's a testament to my infinite mercy that I don't smite you here and now," I said coldly to the remaining Bride. "Begone from my sight."

The surviving Bride's fear was palpable. She prostrated herself even further, her voice barely a whisper. "Thank you, Lady Remiel. I will leave immediately."

The Bride nodded frantically as she scurried away, fear evident in her eyes. I turned my attention to the young girl, who was now barely breathing. Her life force was almost entirely drained. I knelt beside her, my heart heavy with sorrow.

I walked toward the young girl, who lay in a pool of her own blood and urine. Her eyes, once vibrant, were now glossy and lifeless, staring vacantly at the sky. I knelt beside her, my heart heavy with sorrow. She still drew breath.

Without further ado, I drew my sword and, with a swift, clean motion, drove it through the girl's chest. Her body went limp, the life leaving her in an instant. I closed my eyes briefly, trying to block out the sight of her suffering. It was a damn shame.

I think killing the Vampire Bride may have been something outside my authority, a mistake whose consequences I would have to eventually confront, but I just couldn't be bothered with it now. I'll deal with it when I deal with it.

I turned back to the forest, my resolve hardening. Shalltear's stupidity needed to be stopped. That incompetent child would be the ruin of us all. With a final glance at the moonlit clearing, I unfurled my wings once more and soared into the night sky, heading toward the forest where I hoped to pick up her trail.

As I approached, the sounds of battle grew louder - the roaring of fire, shouts of fury, and the guttural roars of Shalltear's bloodlust. I descended through the canopy, crashing into the heart of the conflict with a thunderous impact that shook the trees. The scene was chaotic, with a dead human strewn across the forest floor and ten other combatants locked in a fierce struggle against Shalltear, who looked completely mad. All around the battlefield, there were broken trees, holes in the earth, and burning grass.

My sudden and loud arrival caused a momentary pause in the battle. The enemies, a group of ten formidable enemies(plus one scared girl standing far from the battle) momentarily looked up in surprise. Their focus shifted, and for a crucial moment, Shalltear's attention wavered. When she saw me and I saw her standing there, she froze, her bloodlust lifted. It was in this brief distraction that an old woman wearing a white dress with golden accents and an embroidered golden dragon did something surprising.

The woman raised both her hands, and a bright and powerful oppressive energy flowed from her straight toward Shalltear. Shalltear saw this and materialized a lance of light, aiming to throw it at the woman, but she never got a chance to. The vampire's eyes glazed over, and her once wrathful gaze was replaced by a vacant, controlled stare into nothing. The old woman's power had seized Shalltear, bending her will to her own.

What just happened? Who were these people? Who is that woman?

I landed in the midst of the fray, my presence drawing immediate attention, as I was slowly walking toward them. There was a tension in the air, as if the smallest spark could ignite a barrel of gunpowder.

The leader of the enemy forces, a tall young man with an authoritative presence, stepped forward, his eyes assessing me with a mix of curiosity and wariness.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice commanding. "And what is your purpose here?"

"I came here following the vampire." I declared, my tone resolute.

The leader's gaze narrowed. "Are you an angel, or a messenger of the gods?"

I shook my head. "Angel literally means messenger, you fool. But that's semantics. If you're speaking of who I think you're speaking, then no. I do not know your gods, and I have only one master."

"Why do you call me a fool?" The man asked, and he seemed not insulted, but definitely wary.

"You are a fool if you have found yourself facing such a powerful foe." I responded.

"The Black Scripture has faced many powerful foes." A blue-haired girl wearing a comically oversized wizard hat commented from the side. She was tiny. And fragile. A stray wind could knock her down. But her words did prove useful, and I learned who exactly I was facing. The Black Scripture, that is what they called themselves. If there is a relation to that other scripture…

No matter.

The Black Scripture members exchanged uneasy glances. They were a diverse group—tall and short, broad and slender—each with their own distinct appearance. Yet they all shared a sense of grim determination. The leader's eyes flicked toward the old woman, now exerting control over Shalltear. Her tight, impractical garment seemed almost sacrilegious against her ancient, shriveled, straight up disgusting form.

"What did that woman do to Shalltear?" I asked, frustration edging my voice.

"Is that her name? Bitch is tough." A young cocky man wielding a rapier commented. The man, or boy rather, based on how small he was, was sitting against a rock in the ground, his wounds being healed by one of his comrades.

"Time Turbulence, you will be silent!" The man shouted at his younger comrade, which momentarily stunned the boy, before the boy just waved his hand in a dismissive manner. The leader's expression remained grim as he stared at his comrade before he turned to me again. "We are on official business for the Theocracy and cannot disclose much information."

"The Theocracy? What is your relationship to the Sunlight Scripture?" I inquired, trying to piece together the puzzle.

One of the Black Scripture members, a tall man with a severe expression, spoke hesitantly. "Both we and the Sunlight Scripture serve the Theocracy."

My eyes nearly widened in shock, but my face betrayed no emotion. I had helped to destroy the Sunlight Scripture. Those few who survived were tortured for information, but they revealed nothing, some sort of curse or geas causing them to self-combust in flames upon revealing too much information. Resurrection on their bodies was impossible, the souls unwilling(or perhaps Pestonya was simply too weak) or so I was told from the few words I exchanged with Demiurge before leaving Nazarick for E-Rantel all those days ago. Still, the revelation made me wary. "Then why are you fighting this vampire? What are you doing in this forest?"

"We were en route to subjugate the Catastrophe Dragon Lord, " the leader explained, his tone unwavering.

"Does that look like a dragon to you?" I retorted, glancing around at the carnage.

The leader's eyes flashed with irritation, but he chose not to respond. I moved closer to Shalltear, hoping to communicate with her. Her eyes were vacant, her movements sluggish. It was clear she was under the old woman's control. I waved a hand in front of her. No reaction.

"We were the ones who were attacked by this crazy undead!" A blonde man wielding an obscenely large lance that must be compensating for something, shouted. The disrespect angered me and I wanted to wring his neck, but I restrained myself and paced anxiously.

"This isn't right," I muttered to myself. "I need to retrieve her before she does something irreparable."

One of the Black Scripture members raised an eyebrow. "You know this creature?"

I glared at them. "Yes, one could say that. I have no love for her, but I do know her."

The leader's eyes widened in surprise, but Shalltear's lack of response only deepened my frustration. She was an undead, immune to mind control, yet here she was, ensnared by some form of dark enchantment.

"Why isn't she responding?" I demanded. "She is an undead. She should be immune to mind-affecting ailments. What have you done to her?"

The leader's expression remained stoic. "We cannot release her from control. Such a beast cannot be left unleashed. She has already caused too much damage. It must be put down."

I fell silent, my mind racing. The fallen Black Scripture member and the wounded were stark reminders of the battle's severity. The leader's words stung, and my frustration turned to resolve. I needed answers and action.

Turning my attention to the old woman with the gold-accented dress, I walked towards her, my gaze filled with both curiosity and anger. "How did you, a shriveled old raisin, manage to control an undead like Shalltear?" I demanded as I leaned down. She was a tiny woman, barely over five feet tall, and I was a whole foot and some change taller, covered in armor that was worth more than everything she and her bloodline had ever owned combined. I must have terrified her, but she did not show it. More credit to her. Perhaps her age gave her a certain courage in the face of certain death.

The old woman's gaze was calm, almost serene. "It is not my power alone," she said cryptically.

I scrutinized her dress, the shimmering fabric catching the moonlight. It seemed to emanate an aura of power. I reached out with a finger to caress the fabric, which caused her to flinch, but do nothing else. "This dress—does it have something to do with it?" I asked, my voice filled with realization.

The old woman's demeanor remained unchanged. "You are perceptive, but that is not for you to claim."

I felt a surge of anger. That dress is powerful enough to control a level 100 vampire. It must be a World Item, or something very close to one. What else could mind-control Shalltear? If I were to have such a thing, if I were able to subjugate anyone… the power such a thing could offer me. A mortal woman doomed to die had no business wielding such a thing.

"Give it to me." I demanded.

"How dare you!" The young blonde man wielding a large lance snarled, his face red with anger.

"You looking to die?" growled one of his companions, a beast-like man with a massive ax, his eyes flashing with hostility.

The old woman's gaze hardened. "I will not give it to you."

"It's clear you're strong and possess valuable gear. Why would you need such a dress when you already have powerful equipment?" A man in a skin-tight red bodysuit, whose appearance was incongruous with the rest, attempted to reason with me. His tone was diplomatic but tinged with a sense of underlying menace.

"Well, I want yours too. Now hand it over. I'm not asking." I said, my voice cold and unyielding.

There was silence that stretched for far too long.

"I refuse." Said the woman.

Blood would spill once more.

 

[Lillie Jones]

Well that answers the question about who's been controlling Shall Tear, which Ramiel is looking to spill blood after Theocracy makes move Nazarcick that's has long term consequences for Nazarcick planning going forward for conquest of E Rantel kingdom.
Hopefully Ramiel will be enough to stop Shall Tear Ramage across the kingdom before Ainz Gown gets involved eventually with putting Shall Tear down as a last resort for Nazarcick intricate master plans.
Continue on
Cheers!

 

[BenMalek]

Pobeda ognyom i mechom​

As my words cut through the tension, the old woman's companions sprang into action. The battle erupted around me. Beasts summoned from rings roared and charged, chains lashed out with deadly precision, necromantic summons clawed at me, and powerful spells streaked through the air. The captain, wielding his spear with practiced ease, engaged me directly.

In the chaos, the old woman tried to assert control over Shalltear again. "Shalltear, kill—"

Before she could finish her command, I invoked [Time Stop]. The world around me froze. I moved swiftly. There was no time to waste. Every second costs mana.

In the blink of an eye, faster than the wingbeat of a dragonfly, I closed the distance to the old woman. She could not be allowed to command Shalltear at will. I had come here to save Shalltear and stop her from committing more stupidity, to retrieve her and return to Nazarick. Having Shalltear fight me is… not something I want.

I gathered up my fist and struck, right in the moment where my fist would connect with her body, I let time flow again. When time resumed, the old woman stood there with a gaping hole in her chest, her form essentially a hollowed-out shell. My fist had pierced through her back, leaving a brutal, gaping void where her heart once was.

Blood gurgled from her mouth, and she collapsed, lifeless.

The Black Scripture members were momentarily stunned, their eyes wide with shock as they processed the sudden and brutal turn of events. The captain's expression transformed from authority to sheer disbelief, the ferocity of my attack leaving them paralyzed.

But my brief moment of respite was shattered as Shalltear's vacant eyes flickered with renewed fury. Under the old woman's final command, she sprang into action, her movements swift and fierce. With a snarl, she lunged at me, her fangs bared.

Before I could react, Shalltear's teeth sank into my neck. Pain surged through me as her bite punctured my flesh, and the force of her attack nearly knocked me off balance. The sheer ferocity of her assault caught me off guard. I gasped in shock and pain, struggling to fend her off.

"Shalltear… you really have no control do you?" I asked her with hope against hope that she might answer me, but it was futile. I could barely speak and she was trying to drink me dry.

The Black Scripture members, regaining their composure, seized the opportunity. They attacked with renewed vigor— one man's necromantic summons clawed at me with skeletal hands, the blue-haired woman's bolts of fire blazed through the air, and when they struck me they actually did damage, which surprised me. A blonde-haired man's summoned beasts, a bear, a boar, and what appeared to be some sort of serpent, roared as they rushed toward my position. The battle intensified, their combined forces pressing in on me from all sides.

I can't deal with this all at once.

With a powerful kick, I sent Shalltear flying backward, the force of the blow momentarily breaking her hold on me. I stumbled back, gasping for breath, my mind racing. I thought I ended the mind control, but Shalltear is still active, executing the last order.

I really do have to put this bitch down. No other way around it.

Shalltear, despite the setback, quickly recovered. Her undead strength and resilience made her a formidable opponent. She stood ready for another attack, her bloodlust-driven strikes more feral and less coherent. Despite her regeneration, she was still vulnerable to my holy attacks, giving me a crucial edge here that I'd have to use if I wanted to make it out alive.

As I dealt with the chaos, I noticed one member of the Black Scripture moving with chains, trying to restrain me. The man's chains whirled through the air, aiming to ensnare my wings. His audacity angered me. I yanked on the chains, pulling him toward me. When he was within reach, I backhanded him with such force that his chest cavity shattered. His body was sent crashing into a nearby tree with a sickening thud. He lay motionless on the ground, his body twitching. If he wasn't already dead, he'd be dead soon. Either way, he was no longer a threat.

However, Shalltear, her eyes still vacant and driven by the last command, lunged at me. Her fangs bared, she aimed for my neck. I had to deal with her before continuing the assault on the others. I raised my hand and unleashed [Shockwave], a powerful burst of force that sent Shalltear crashing backward. The shockwave cleared some space around me, but she quickly began to recover, her determination unshaken.

The blue-haired sorceress, in a panic after seeing me casually crack her companions chest like a stone would crush a peanut, cast [Dragon Lightning], a fifth-tier spell. The jagged bolt of lightning arced toward me with terrifying speed. When it hit me, I felt some pain. Again, the fact that these insects could even harm me was insulting.

I glared at her, fury boiling over. "You dare use lightning against me!?" I roared.

Before I could retaliate, Shalltear was back on her feet, lunging at me again. I needed to deal with her first.

"[Consecrate]!" I said, summoned a ring of holy light around me, its radiance both healing my wounds and burning Shalltear as she drew closer. She recoiled in pain, but not for long. With Shalltear momentarily forced back, I focused on the sorceress. A stray thought crossed my mind, that being a comparison between this woman and Fluder, and just how much she was lacking compared to him. And even Fluder wasn't a challenge to me, so how much lesser is this woman even still?

Summoning a powerful, terrifying golden lightning bolt, I hurled it toward the sorceress. The bolt crackled and roared, its power immense. The sorceress herself conjured a magic barrier in a desperate bid to shield herself. However, her efforts were in vain. The golden lightning bolt smashed through the barriers scorched her to ash. Thesorceress was incinerated in an instant, her screams drowned out by the crackling power.

Just as I was preparing to deal with the next threat, Time Turbulence, seeing the chaos, attempted to manipulate time against me. I could see him even as he slowed down, his movements distorted but still discernible. It was as though he was moving through molasses. I don't think he truly expected me to see him. When my eyes locked with his, his mouth opened in fear.

With a flick of my wrist, I cast [Quagmire], a spell that turned the earth beneath him into a muddy quagmire, aptly named. He struggled, slipping and sliding, his time-manipulated speed unable to counteract the treacherous ground.

But as I moved in to finish him, Shalltear, now more persistent than ever, charged at me. I had to deal with her once more. I tried to stab at her, but she evaded my attack and raked me across my face with her claws. The pain hurt quite badly, and I think she even damaged my eye. In response, I uppercut her with my fist granting me a moment to breathe. Then, I raised my blade against her and cast [Thunderous Smite]. The blade rang in the air, and when it connected with Shalltear's shoulder, the noise was so loud it even caused a tiny woman wearing ridiculous clothing off in the distance to collapse to the ground and scream in agony. The noise of the blade connecting with its target was deafening, and the shockwave was felt even among the other combatants. The blow fulfilled its purpose, as it pushed Shalltear back more than two dozen feet away, giving me breathing room.

Or so I thought. The boar the blonde man had summoned tried to gore me from behind, but I saw it coming and used [Radiant Blast], shooting out a bolt of searing light that connected perfectly.

A roasted boar was all that remained. It could serve as a decent meal for a family.

Now, with a moment free, I focused on Time Turbulence. With the ground beneath him now a quagmire, I teleported above him, and brought my blade down, connecting with the back of his skull. The blade cut through his defenses, cleaving through flesh and bone, ending his struggle. He fell to the ground, his body lifeless, his head useless. Four down, six to go. Five Scripture members and Shalltear.

I tried to take a moment to breathe, but it proved to be a mistake. A spear pierced the back of my knee, forcing me to the ground. The Captain had taken advantage of my distraction, stabbing me with precision. Pain radiated from the wound, making it difficult to stand.

The man with the lance lunged at my chest, his weapon aimed to impale. I barely managed to deflect it, but the force of the blow knocked me off balance. The barbarian, a hulking figure with a giant axe, swung at me with ferocious strength. I dodged the initial strike, but his relentless assault left me little room to counter.

"You're finished, heretic!" the Captain growled, his eyes burning with zeal.

"You're not getting away this time," the lancer added, his voice cold and determined.

The blonde-haired beast tamer, standing a distance away, drew his bow and shot arrows at me with unerring accuracy. Each arrow struck with force, chipping away at my defenses. Though it did little to damage me, it added up. And the fact that the man kept his bear in reserve to guard him in case I decided to attack him was smart.

His snake, a vile creature, nipped at my heel, its venom burning where it touched. The fact that a snake would even dare to touch me angered me to the point that I let the barbarian strike me just so I could crush the damn things skull. A stomp ended its life.

"We'll tear you apart!" the barbarian roared, swinging his axe with wild fury.

The necromantic summons, a dozen skeletons, empowered by their master, attacked with renewed ferocity. Their blades, now shining with black, unholy light, slashed at me from all sides. I deflected one blow but received another, the wounds accumulating and weakening my stance.

"Give up already," the necromancer sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.

Just as I thought I could endure no more, Shalltear lunged at me again, her bloodlust unwavering. In desperation, I invoked [Divine Intervention].


A golden bubble of light enveloped me, rendering me invulnerable to all effects physical or magical for a full twelve seconds. Twelve seconds. Whatever I did, it had to be now. The attackers were stunned, their strikes deflected harmlessly by the divine barrier.

"What is this sorcery?" the Captain exclaimed, frustration evident in his voice as he tried to stab at me, his spear finding no purchase.

The battlefield was momentarily silent, the enemies staring in disbelief at their inability to breach my defenses. During those twelve seconds while Shalltear was striking at me like a rabid dog, a new barrier popped up around the entire battlefield, alarming both me and my enemies. None of us had cast it.

"What's happening? Who's doing this?" the lancer shouted, his eyes darting around in confusion.

"Something's not right," the necromancer muttered, a hint of fear creeping into his voice.

I tried to use [Message] to contact Lord Ainz for backup but was stupefied when the message couldn't connect. Realization dawned—it was the barrier's fault.

Ignoring the mystery for now, I focused on healing. I cast a powerful spell, divine light pouring over me. My wounds closed, my strength returned. My previously useless wing flexed back into motion, and my vision cleared as my eye regenerated. The pain in my side vanished as the gaping wound sealed itself.

The mana cost for such a thing was no small thing.

With renewed vigor, I stood tall, unburdened by the former pain in my leg. "I'm done playing with you. Now you'll all die like dogs." With determination burning in my eyes, I raised my hands in offering and chanted with unwavering resolve, "Oh Holy Host, hear my plea and deliver me from my enemy! With this ancient rite, I summon the Four-Limbed Colossus, Divine Behemoth of Celestial Wrath! "

The skies above darkened as the air crackled with raw, untamed power. A swirling vortex of energy formed in the heavens, heralding the arrival of the Divine Behemoth. The ground trembled as an ethereal light pierced through the clouds, descending with an awe-inspiring force.

Emerging from the celestial rift, the Divine Behemoth appeared in all its majesty. Its colossal form, eerily beautiful, was covered in shimmering, iridescent scales that reflected the light in a kaleidoscope of colors. Each of its four muscular limbs ended in razor-sharp claws that could tear through the toughest defenses. Its head was adorned with multiple glowing eyes that seemed to pierce the very soul, crowned with twisted, ethereal horns that crackled with divine energy. The behemoth's long, whip-like tail lashed through the air, a testament to its formidable strength and balance.

As the Divine Behemoth fully materialized, its presence commanded the battlefield. The sheer weight of its power was palpable, sending waves of fear and awe through friend and foe alike.

The Divine Behemoth's arrival on the ground shook the earth. The members of the Black Scripture by that point in time as well as Shalltear had all gained some distance from me, cautious of the new arrival to the field. And it was easy to understand why as the Behemoth stood behind me, a manifestation of raw power and adaptability. Its presence was overwhelming, and the sheer force of its being radiated across the battlefield.

The Black Scripture members hesitated, their resolve shaken by the sight of the titanic creature, which must have been almost a dozen feet tall, though I didn't know its exact height. What I did know is that its mana consumption was great, and its capacity for death and destruction was even greater.

The balance of power had shifted dramatically, and I could see the fear in their eyes.

"What is that thing?" the Captain whispered, his confidence faltering.

"By the gods…," the lancer stammered, his weapon trembling in his grip. The young man stepped back in fear.

"Kill her! Kill her now!" the necromancer shouted, panic overtaking him.


"Destroy them." I commanded the beast. With a deafening roar that shook the heavens, the Divine Behemoth prepared to unleash its might upon those who dared to stand against me.

The blonde lancer, desperation etched into his features, gathered his resolve and unleashed a blast of holy magic toward me. I let it hit and it did literally nothing. Does this fool actually think to use divine magic against me? It's like trying to drown a fish. The utter fool.

"You shouldn't play with divine fire, boy!" I warned, my voice loud and wrathful. Lifting my hand up and pulling it down, I cast [Flame Strike]. From the heavens, a towering pillar of fire descended with blinding intensity, engulfing the lancer in an inferno. His screams were brief, swallowed by the roaring flames, his form reduced to ash in moments.

Next, the barbarian, a mountain of muscle and fury, cast some [Martial Arts] on himself, and he glowed with light as did his weapon. Then he charged at me with his massive axe raised high. His intent was clear: to cleave me in two. With a swift incantation, I cast [Wither]. Instantly, his movements became sluggish, his once formidable strength sapped away. "What… what is happening?" he muttered, bewildered and helpless. I sidestepped his feeble swing and, with a wrathful roar, severed his hands from his wrists. The barbarian fell to his knees, staring at his stumps in shock. In one fluid motion, with a backhand, I decapitated him, granting him a swift end, better than the mad dog deserved. I took the time to spit on his corpse for good measure.

Meanwhile, the necromancer, his face contorted in terror, desperately chanted incantations to summon dark forces against the Divine Behemoth. His skeletons pathetically tried stabbing at the Behemoth, but their weapons merely bounced off his scales. All the necromancer's efforts were in vain. The behemoth's massive claws closed around him, lifting him into the air. With bone-crushing force, the behemoth smashed the necromancer into the ground, over and over, each impact sending shockwaves through the earth. The necromancer's screams were cut short, his body left broken and lifeless, a testament to the futility of his resistance.

Shalltear, undeterred, launched herself at the Divine Behemoth, her vampiric strength and agility allowing her to momentarily occupy its attention. She clawed and bit at its shimmering, iridescent scales, trying to find a weak spot. The behemoth roared in anger, its multiple glowing eyes fixated on her as it swiped with its razor-sharp claws, creating shockwaves that sent debris flying in all directions.

Despite Shalltear's relentless assault, the Divine Behemoth remained an unstoppable force, its sheer power and adaptability overwhelming the battlefield. When it came to pure stats, it was comparable to Shalltear, trading a bit of speed for greater defense, and it possessed constant passive health regeneration as opposed to Shalltear who healed by doing damage. The Behemoth would be able to hold Shalltear for a time, long enough for me to deal with the rest of these insects.

The Black Scripture members, seeing their comrades fall one by one, hesitated, their resolve crumbling in the face of such overwhelming strength. The balance of power had irrevocably shifted, and I could see the fear in their eyes as they realized the futility of their efforts.

The Captain, seeing his comrades fall, mustered his courage and invoked one of his [Martial Arts] and charged the Behemoth before stabbing it with the fury of a thousand blows, each of them trying to chip away at my summon's scales. He and Shalltear attacked in unison, their combined efforts barely scratching the colossal beast. The Captain's martial arts techniques, powerful in their own right, were useless against the behemoth's armored hide. He executed precise strikes and complex maneuvers, but they glanced off the creature's shimmering, iridescent scales without leaving a mark. Shalltear, with her vampiric strength and speed, fared no better as she slashed and bit at the beast, trying to find a weak spot.

In response, the Divine Behemoth roared and swung its massive tail in a wide arc. Shalltear leaped backward, her agility allowing her to narrowly avoid the blow. The Captain, thinking quickly, jumped upward to evade the tail's devastating sweep. As he ascended, his eyes met mine for a brief, chilling moment. I think that by the look on his face that at this moment he realized he had just died.

I took to the air, my wings carrying me with effortless grace. In a flash, I intercepted him mid-air, not ending my flight, slicing off his legs below the knee with a swift, merciless strike. His scream of agony echoed through the battlefield as he plummeted back to the ground. The Divine Behemoth followed up with a thunderous punch to the Captain's chest, the force of the blow silencing him forever as his body crumpled under the impact.

Amidst the chaos, the 12th seat of the Black Scripture, a man in a skin-tight bodysuit, attempted to sneak up on me once I had landed on the ground again. His stealthy movements were almost imperceptible, but I sensed his presence. As he lunged to backstab me, I transformed into mist, his blade passing harmlessly through the vapor. Reappearing behind him, I delivered a powerful kick to his back, sending him hurtling toward the Divine Behemoth. The behemoth's jaws closed around him with a sickening crunch, consuming him like a wolf would snack on a baby lamb. The Behemoth had no time to enjoy his meal as he was attacked by Shalltear right afterwards.

I let him deal with her for now and turned toward one of my enemies who was still alive.

The beastmaster trembled in fear, but he knew he couldn't remain passive. He commanded his bear to charge at me while he nocked another arrow. The massive bear roared as it barreled toward me, its claws ready to tear me apart. The beastmaster loosed his arrow, aiming for my heart. I deftly sidestepped the arrow, as it was not even a challenge.

In recompense, I unleashed a wave of fire from my sword towards the beastmaster. The man dropped to a prone position to evade the flames, but his clumsy bear, too fat and big, was not so lucky. The beast roared in agony as the fire engulfed it, its fat boiling it like oil, its fur burning away as it collapsed, lifeless.

The beastmaster lifted his head, eyes wide with horror and anger. Before he could react, I appeared behind him. Grabbing his head, I smashed it into the dirt with unrelenting force, again and again and again. Each impact left a bloody impression. His struggles weakened with each blow until I finally wrung his neck, ending his life with a sickening snap.

With the beastmaster and his bear defeated, the battlefield was now littered with the bodies of the fallen, the remnants of the Black Scripture's once-formidable force. Shalltear, still driven by bloodlust, continued her relentless assault on the Divine Behemoth. Despite her efforts, the behemoth's sheer size and power made it an indomitable foe.

I think that's almost everyone. I got them all. Just have to deal with Shalltear.

Oh wait, there's still the girl who fainted.

Mentally, I commanded the Behemoth to disengage from Shalltear and find the girl. He'd do a better job at it, and in the meantime, I rushed toward Shalltear, sword in hand.

Shalltear's eyes locked onto me, her bloodlust undiminished. She let out a primal scream and charged, her claws gleaming with deadly intent. I braced myself, my sword glowing with the divine energy of [Searing Smite]. As we clashed, the fire from my blade seared her flesh, causing her to hiss in pain.

Statistically, Shalltear was more powerful than me, her sheer strength and resilience far surpassing mine. However, her madness made her predictable and wild, allowing me to outskill and outsmart her. Each of her attacks was driven by rage, lacking the precision and strategy that would make her a truly unbeatable foe. In truth, I was quite lucky that this was not really Shalltear at her best. Had she been wearing her armor and wielding her lance, I'd likely lose the head-to-head fight, unless I had detailed foreknowledge of her skills and spells. She was more of a melee fighter than me, but I was good enough for what needed to be done.

I parried her claw swipes, each one aiming to rip me apart. The flames from my sword burned her with every strike, but her undead nature allowed her to withstand the pain. "I'm glad you can't use your skills or spells," I muttered through gritted teeth. "If you could, I'd probably be dead by now."

And that's the truth. Shalltear had a whole host of abilities, and though I'm confident that if I were to face her one on one with both of us at our best that I had a decent chance of winning, the battle had taken its toll on me, as it had on her.

The battle raged on, our movements a deadly dance of steel and claws. I struck at her with my sword, aiming for vital points, while she retaliated with feral swipes, trying to break through my defenses. Despite her superior stats, her madness left openings that I could exploit. But with each passing moment, my fatigue grew more pronounced.

Just as I began to feel the strain of the prolonged fight, the Divine Behemoth returned, carrying the girl's corpse in its massive hand. The sight of the lifeless body filled me with a grim determination. The Behemoth disposed of the corpse, tossing it aside like a ragdoll, and then turned its attention to Shalltear.

With the Behemoth joining the fray, the tide shifted in my favor. Shalltear tried to fight both of us, but her rage was no match for our combined might. The Behemoth's powerful blows and my precise strikes began to take their toll on her.

Shalltear fought valiantly, her strength and resilience making her a formidable opponent even in her madness. But the combined assault from the Behemoth and me was too much.

If Shalltear tried to dodge my blade when I tried to pierce her chest, the Behemoth was there, ready to beat her down. If Shalltear attacked me, all I had to do was play defensively while the Behemoth attacked her from the rear. If she attacked the Behemoth, the defensively superior opponent, then she exposed herself to my sword. If she went on the defense trying to dodge us and not engage, all she did was suffer blows without giving back any in return. In a nutshell, she was check-mated.


She staggered, her body riddled with wounds and burns. With one final, desperate lunge, she aimed to take me down, but the Behemoth intercepted her, slamming her into the ground with a bone-shattering force.

I stood over Shalltear, my sword poised to deliver the final blow. She lay there, crippled and defeated, her eyes still burning with a fierce, unyielding rage. I hesitated, knowing that ending her would be merciful, but also recognizing the significance of her existence.

The battle was over, but the aftermath was yet to be dealt with. For now, Shalltear was incapacitated, and the Black Scripture was no more. I took a deep breath, my body aching from the exertion, and prepared for what came next.

Killing the old woman that was in control of Shalltear did not end her mind control. What would it take to end her madness and bring her back to Nazarick?

Was the dress necessary? I suppose it was worth a shot.


Mentally I commanded the Behemoth to keep Shalltear in place. She tried desperately to stand upright and fight back, but the Behemoth kept her pinned down. The sight of her puny body held back by his giant fist was amusing, I had to admit.

Wasting no time, I flew toward the corpse of the old lady with the hole in her chest.

She looked like a donut.

I unleashed a wave of fire at the corpse that burned her remains to ashes, leaving behind a blackened and somewhat damaged but relatively whole dress. I picked it up and saw with awe how it stitched itself together back slowly, thread by thread, piece by piece. Based on the speed of it, any damages suffered by the item would be made whole within a day.

A World Item… and now it was mine.

I deposited the item in my inventory before flying back to Shalltear.


She struggled and tried to claw at me with one of her legs, using the claws on them as a feeble weapon. It didn't work, and all I had to do was step away.



The adrenaline of battle began to wane, leaving me acutely aware of how much mana I had expended. I could feel the Behemoth's hunger for mana, an insatiable need that threatened to drain me dry if left unchecked. With a weary sigh, I raised my hand and dispelled the Divine Behemoth, its massive form dissolving into shimmering motes of light.

I turned my attention to Shalltear, lying in a broken heap on the ground. Her limbs were twisted and frazzled, her once-magnificent form reduced to a pitiable shadow of its glory. She lay in a crevice in the dirt, her eyes still burning with madness and defiance. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.

"Shalltear," I began, my voice cold and unyielding, "look what has become of you. A proud warrior, the strongest Floor Guardian, now little more than a bloody stain. It's pathetic."

She snarled weakly, trying to push herself up, but her shattered body betrayed her.

"I expected more from you," I continued, my tone laced with disdain. "The first time you get sent on a mission to the outside world, and look at what you've done! You could have exposed Nazarick's secrets to outsiders, you utter fool!"

I stepped closer, looking down at her with a mixture of pity and contempt. "I suppose this is what happens when pride consumes you. You make stupid mistakes."

Shalltear's eyes, though maddened and vacant, tried to glare up at me with a flicker of defiance. The pride that had once marked her was now replaced with a broken spirit, a testament to the battle we had fought.

I continued, my voice betraying the weight of my regret. "I have no desire to strike you down. It was either your life or mine, and I have no desire to taste death again. But your reckless actions have put us all at risk. I deeply regret having to raise a hand against you, one of our own. Maybe our Lord will have mercy on you. Or maybe not. I suppose I'll ask him."


Just as I was contemplating how to deal with Shalltear and maintain possession of the World Item, a figure emerged from the chaos, clad in dazzling platinum armor, four floating weapons following him. They were a spear, a war ax, a katana, and a giant two-edged blade.

Who is this person? Is he responsible for the barrier? Is he an enemy?

More importantly, what does he want?

 

[Zenron]

I don't mind whether she dies or not but at least let there be a difference from canon where they keep the World Item.

 

[Faber_The_Builder]

Well dang, our girl is just getting all the LN shit dropped on her head at the same time huh? Not only does she have to deal with the Black Scripture, mindwhammy'd Chair, but PLD too? What's next? Zesshi?

 

[Lillie Jones]

Ramiel u still can't catch a break from dealing with LN Overlord stuff getting dropped on you after summoning the Divine Benemouth and having a epic floor Guardian battle against Shalltear, which reveals the real world item controlling Shall Tear,after dealing with Black Scripture brigade.
As New Player enters the game after Ramiel subdued mind controlled Shall Tear from the chaos and destruction in E Rantel kingdom.
Great Another one, but Will Ramiel will be able to handle after being low on energy to deal with the new guy at the meantime.
Continue on
Cheers!

 

[BenMalek]

Unerwünschter Gast​

I had just dispelled Behemoth. I can't call him again.

He approached with a calm, measured stride, his armored gaze, with those two glowing silver eyes, fixed on me with an approving look. "You're clearly strong."

I turned to face him, the sudden appearance of the armored man adding another layer of complexity to the situation. His presence was imposing, and for a brief moment, I hesitated, uncertainty clouding my thoughts. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"I created the barrier," he stated plainly. "I wanted to observe the battle without interruptions."

"You wanted to observe?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Why?"

He took another step closer, his eyes studying me intently. "I'm not a friend of the Black Scripture nor the Theocracy. In fact, I'm somewhat grateful to see them dealt with. But such power often draws attention. Who are you really? What organization do you belong to?"

"I can't divulge that information," I replied firmly, keeping my grip on my weapon tight. "It's none of your concern."

He nodded, acknowledging my persistence. "My name is Riku Aganeia. And you? Are you a [Player]?"

I hesitated. "No."

"Then you must be an NPC," he concluded, his tone calm and analytical.

"How do you even know these terms?" I demanded, taken aback by his knowledge.

Riku however remained unreadable. One could not tell a man's emotions when the man was covered head to toe in armor. "I know quite a bit about Yggdrasil, though probably not as much as those who come from there."

I studied him, trying to gauge his intentions. "What exactly do you want, Riku?"

He sighed softly, almost as if reminiscing. "My duty is to protect this world. I promised my mother I would do so. Beings of immense power, like that vampire, pose a significant threat."

His words struck a chord within me. "If you protect the world from dangerous entities, then you yourself must be strong, correct?" I asked.

"One could say that." He replied vaguely.

"Who protects the world from the man who protects the world? What right do you have to judge who needs to be put down or not?" I asked him, hoping he'd trip up and show his true colors, whatever those may be.

"Apart from the fact that I'm quite old and strong, I don't really have much of a right to judge. I guess I'm a bit of a hypocrite. But still, it is my purpose." He responded.

Before I could respond, Shalltear's body began to convulse violently. Blood from the fallen members of the Black Scripture flowed toward her, drawn by her vampiric will. Her bones snapped back into place with sickening cracks, her muscles knitted together, and her wounds sealed. The sheer speed and intensity of her regeneration sent a wave of dread through me. This was a gamechanging moment if ever there was one.

Riku tensed, his weapons floating around him in a protective formation. "It seems she's not done yet."

I readied my sword, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. "No, she's not."

Riku glanced at me, a hint of respect in his eyes. "Do you need assistance to bring her down?"

This bastard. Why didn't you offer your help when I was fighting the Scripture and her at the same time?

My eyes narrowed as I took his words in. "Right, of course." I said, more to myself than to him. Of course he'd hedge his bets. "But what do you gain from helping me now?"

"I gain the assurance that a dangerous entity is neutralized," he replied simply. "And perhaps, I learn more about those who have arrived from Yggdrasil."

I cursed internally, the complexity of the situation weighing heavily on me. "Break the barrier," I demanded, a note of desperation creeping into my voice. "I can call for aid from my allies."

I needed Lord Ainz to come and deal with this. I'm out of my depth. I shouldn't have even gone here. I should have called for help right after killing the Vampire Bride. In hindsight, killing the Bride was a big mistake, but my wrath claimed me at that moment. I knew I'd face some punishment for that, as while the brides are but mere summons and Shalltear kills them regularly, they are still under her jurisdiction and I can't harm them without her or Lord Ainz's approval. Still, if I thought that if I just brought back Shalltear alive(relatively, she's undead) and unharmed before more of her stupidity brought unnoticed attention, if I brought her back to Nazarick, then I'd be fine, as my previous success in Baharuth would grant me some clemency.

No, my mistake was even earlier than that, back in E-Rantel. Why didn't I call for aid then? I could have notified Lord Ainz easily. I suppose it doesn't matter now.

Riku shook his head. "No. You can either accept my help now or face her alone. The barrier stays."

I hesitated, doubt gnawing at me. "Why would you offer to help? What's in it for you?"

His eyes met mine, unwavering. "I promised my mother I would protect this world. A vampire of her strength is a threat to it."

Internally, I cursed the situation and myself for getting us into this mess. "If you want her to be dealt with, then take down the barrier." I repeated myself.

"I can't do that." Insufferable, absolutely insufferable.

"Ugh, fine." I said, steel entering my voice. "We take her down together."

Shalltear, now fully healed and radiating with murderous intent, locked eyes with me. Her madness and rage were palpable, and I knew this battle would be brutal.

"Ready yourself," Riku said, his weapons poised for action.

I nodded, focusing all my energy and remaining mana on the fight ahead. "Let's end this."

As Shalltear lunged toward us, her claws outstretched, I activated [Searing Smite], engulfing my sword in flames. The battle was on, and with Riku's aid, we had a chance to bring her down. The clash of steel, the roar of flames, and the fury of a vampire would soon determine our fate.

With Shalltear fully regenerated, her wounds mended and her strength restored, she charged at us with renewed ferocity. Riku and I attacked in unison, our combined efforts momentarily overwhelming her. My [Searing Smite] clashed with her claws, the flames licking at her skin. Riku's floating weapons struck with precision, exploiting every opening in Shalltear's defense.

For a brief moment, it seemed we had the upper hand. Shalltear staggered under the relentless assault, her movements growing more frantic as she struggled to keep up with our coordinated strikes.

Then, Riku suddenly froze, his eyes widening as he sensed something. "This is unexpected," he muttered.

"What is it?" I demanded, still focused on Shalltear.

"Someone has passed through the barrier," Riku replied, his voice tinged with surprise. "I am sorry, but I must leave."

Before I could respond, Riku turned to leave. "Wait! Where are you going?" I shouted, my attention split between him and Shalltear.

"Good luck," Riku said simply before activating [World Teleportation] and vanishing in an instant. The barrier fell as he disappeared, leaving me alone with Shalltear.

This whoreson left me! He just left! I didn't get to put Shalltear down, nor did I manage to use the World Item to restore her. Out of two possible good moves I had, somehow I was saddled with a third which was worse than both combined! When I find that piece of filth, he'll pay back for this deception a hundred-fold!

Shalltear wasted no time taking advantage of the distraction. She leaped onto my back, her claws digging into my wings with excruciating force. Pain shot through me, nearly causing me to lose my grip on my sword. I screamed in agony, desperately trying to throw her off.

With Shalltear's claws embedded in my wings, I struggled to maintain my balance. Her strength and madness gave her an advantage, and I was quickly forced onto the defensive.

She snarled, her red eyes gleaming with malice. "I'll tear you apart!"

Those were the first words she's said to me in her entire state. How lovely.

I fought back with everything I had, swinging my sword in a desperate attempt to dislodge her. But Shalltear's grip was unyielding, her claws digging deeper with each passing second. The pain was almost unbearable, but I couldn't afford to give in.

I was barely keeping my composure when I finally managed to grab onto Shalltear with my free hand before I slammed her to the ground. My foot pressed firmly against her chest, pinning her down. She screamed out, her circular maw wide and hungry, her tongue moving like a serpent.

She tried to strike me with her claw again, but it was a mistake from her. It was an easy thing to use [Vengeance] after she had so thoroughly devastated my wings.

With my left hand I grabbed her grasping claws, and with the right I stabbed her through the chest, and she screamed in pain. But the tiny yet vicious harlot was still alive. As alive as an undead could be, at any rate. Her tongue moving around like a serpent trying to lick the blood off my face was proof enough.

She really is a disgusting creature now that I look at her. From a certain point of view it's pitiable I suppose, after all it is not her fault that she was made inferior to me. Oh well, her suffering would end soon.

At least a few more blows that were as impactful as the one I just gave her were necessary for victory. I'd deliver one promptly, and this time I'd aim for the head. My sword was raised high above my head, poised to deliver a mighty blow, though I doubted that it would kill her. She was too hale for that. The flaming edge of my blade glinted ominously in the moonlight, a testament to my resolve.

But before I could strike, a new presence filled the air, and I felt an unmistakable shift in the battlefield. Lord Ainz had arrived, his figure imposing and his aura commanding. I heard the majestic and powerful sound of his voice cutting through the chaos.

"Enough."

The command was both authoritative and soothing, and I couldn't help but release a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I immediately dropped my sword and dropped to my knees, prostrating myself before him. The act caused me great physical pain, especially since my wings were still basically useless, skin ruptured and joints broken. My heart pounded in my chest, a reminder of the fact that I was alive, as a mixture of relief and fatigue washing over me. I was willing to take any punishment or reprimand Ainz might see fit to deliver. Though there is a small part of me that regrets not being able to slay Shalltear.

I could not remain where I was for long. The instant I dropped to the ground in submission before Lord Ainz, Shalltear seized the opportunity to strike again. With a primal snarl, she lunged at me, her fangs sinking into my neck. The pain was immediate and searing, and I screamed as her bite tore through my flesh.

Desperate to fend her off, I focused what little mana I had left and cast [Holy Nova]. A brilliant burst of light erupted from me, bathing the area in a blinding radiance. The holy light burned Shalltear, pushing her back and momentarily stunning her. The intensity of the spell also provided a fleeting relief, closing some of my wounds and easing the bleeding from my neck. Despite this, my golden wings were a mess—one was twisted nearly upside down, and blood stained the once radiant feathers.

As I struggled to stay upright, Lord Ainz's wrathful gaze fell upon Shalltear, his eyes narrowed in cold fury. "Why is she still attacking you?" His voice was laced with a mix of anger and curiosity.

"She's under mind control," I explained through gritted teeth, my voice strained but clear. "She doesn't have control over her actions. I had no choice but to defend myself."

Without a word, Lord Ainz moved with a swift, deliberate grace. He teleported directly to me, his presence commanding and soothing. With a gesture, he grabbed me and then teleported us about thirty feet away from Shalltear, placing us at a safer distance.

"Stay here," Ainz instructed, his voice calm but firm. "I will try to reach through to her."

I couldn't help but plead, my voice tinged with desperation. "My lord, please don't. She's dangerous, and—"

"It is a ruler's duty to try and reach his subjects," Ainz interrupted gently but firmly.

Before I could say another word, he vanished, reappearing directly in front of Shalltear. I watched with bated breath as he attempted to connect with her.

Lord Ainz's words were filled with a mix of concern and authority as he faced Shalltear. "Shalltear," he began, his voice soft but commanding, "can you hear me? Do you understand what's happening?"

Shalltear, her form still twisted by madness, looked at Ainz with vacant, unfocused eyes. Her breaths were ragged, and she struggled to maintain coherence. "Lord Ainz?" Her voice was shaky, betraying the inner conflict raging within her.

"Yes," Ainz affirmed gently. "It's me. You're under some form of control, but I need to understand. Can you tell me what's going on? Why are you fighting each other?"

Shalltear's eyes fluttered, and she looked around as if trying to piece together fragmented memories. Her voice was hesitant, filled with confusion. I watched as her form slowly but surely returned to her previous doll-like visage. The beast had retreated, for now. "I… I remember… something… but it's all a blur. I was fighting some humans… and then I was… I was ordered to… to fight… but I don't know why. Everything's so hazy…"

Ainz's gaze softened, and he stepped closer, trying to bridge the gap between them with his words. "Think, Shalltear. Try to remember who gave you these orders and why. You are a loyal guardian of Nazarick. You should not be acting against our own. You serve me, and only me, remember that."

Shalltear's confusion deepened. She shook her head, her movements erratic. "It's hard to think… My mind… It's cloudy. I know I should follow orders, but… why was I fighting Remiel? I don't understand… There was this old woman… and she…"

The struggle was evident on her face as she fought against the remnants of her madness. Ainz's voice remained calm, guiding her gently. "Shalltear, you must focus. Remember who you are and what you stand for. You are a part of Nazarick's family. This chaos is not your doing. Please, try to recall the source of this control."

A moment of clarity seemed to flash across Shalltear's face. She looked at Ainz with a pained expression, struggling to articulate her thoughts. "I… I don't know… It's all mixed up. The only thing I can think of is that I was ordered to kill, and… that's what I was doing. It doesn't matter why now. I have to follow orders…"

Ainz's eyes narrowed, his concern deepening as he heard Shalltear's response. "This is not the Shalltear we know. I understand that you're compelled to act, but you must remember who you are. Fighting Remiel and causing chaos is not what you were meant to do. You two are both my children, and I love you both."

"You love me?" She said, and for a moment it seemed like he had gotten through to her.

But that moment was just that, a moment, fleeting and gone forever.

Shalltear's gaze flickered between confusion and resignation. Despite her efforts to fight the control, her final response came with a hardened resolve. "It doesn't matter. Orders are orders. I was commanded to kill, and that's what I will do."

With that, Shalltear summoned her weapon, readying herself to attack once more. The struggle within her was evident, but the command that still held sway over her actions was clear. Ainz's expression hardened as he realized the depth of the situation and the urgency of the matter.

Without hesitation, Shalltear attacked Lord Ainz with her lance. Ainz responded swiftly, summoning a wall of bone that rose between him and Shalltear, blocking her deadly assault.

As the barrier broke because of Shalltear's attack, Ainz reappeared next to me. His expression was a mix of concern and relief. "So you did not betray us? I am glad to hear it, but we have quite a lot to discuss."

Before I could respond, Ainz grabbed me again and teleported us both a short distance away, still within the forest. When the teleportation ended, I found myself in the presence of Albedo, Cocytus, Aura, and Mare, all armed and ready for combat.

Confusion clouded my thoughts as I took in the scene. "What's going on?"

"We have no time to waste." Ainz said urgently. He summoned a glowing oval-shaped [Gate], a teleportation spell, and commanded everyone to get out of there. He walked through it first.

Albedo, her eyes narrowing slightly, spoke with a tone of authority, "You have a lot to answer for, Lady Remiel. You will answer Lord Ainz's questions." She said as she followed Lord Ainz.

Cocytus, ever the stoic warrior, gave a respectful nod and said, "It is good to see you did not betray us. We must discuss this matter thoroughly." He commented as he walked in after her.

Aura, her demeanor a mix of cheerful teasing and seriousness, added with a grin, "Looks like you've got some explaining to do, Remiel! But don't worry, we'll make sure to get the full story."

Mare, looking nervous and stuttering slightly, said, "Y-yeah, you'll need to tell us everything. W-we need to understand what happened." The twins said, before they all followed Lord Ainz into the Gate.

I spared a final glance at the forest, and followed.

 

[Lillie Jones]

Help arrives with the mysterious player Riku but quickly leaves the battlefield when Ainz Gown comes from his previous mission, which Ainz Gown wants an unexpected explanation for Ramiel "betrayal "and Shalltear going rogue against Nazarcick orders.
Which Ainz Gown demands an answers after teleporting them to Nazarcick HQ,
Oh Schmidt, Has Ramiel got a story for you Nazarcick Floor Guardians and it's a doozy for sure, HAHAHA!
Continue on
Cheers!

 

[BenMalek]

Tribunal​

The teleportation gate shimmered as we stepped through, emerging into the grand hall of Nazarick. The marble floor stretched out before us, a pristine expanse that seemed to absorb the weight of my anxieties. My heart pounded with each echo of our footsteps. The silence was almost deafening.

Lord Ainz turned his gaze towards me, his skeletal visage as unreadable as ever. "Follow me," he commanded, his voice resonating with a finality that made my knees feel weak. The Guardians fell into line behind us, a silent, imposing procession as we made our way to the throne room.

The throne room loomed ahead, a majestic chamber with high ceilings and opulent decor. I couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding as Ainz ascended the steps to his throne and settled into it. His crimson eyes fixed on me, piercing through my composure. The Guardians—Albedo, Cocytus, Aura, and Mare—took their positions around him, their expressions a mix of curiosity, concern, and stern expectation.

"Remiel," Ainz began, his tone authoritative and unwavering, "you have been brought here to explain the events that transpired. We need to understand what happened with Shalltear."

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their collective gaze. My mind raced as I tried to organize my thoughts. I stepped forward, my voice steady despite the turmoil within me. "Lord Ainz, I encountered Shalltear while she was under the influence of mind control. She attacked me, and I had no choice but to defend myself."

Ainz's eyes narrowed. "Mind control, you say? Can you elaborate on what you observed?"

I nodded, forcing myself to remain calm. "Her behavior was erratic and aggressive. She didn't recognize me as an ally and was solely focused on destruction. I tried to subdue her without causing permanent harm, but the situation…escalated."

Albedo, standing to Ainz's right, cut in with a sharp edge to her voice. "Why did you not call for assistance immediately? You should have informed us as soon as you realized something was wrong."

I bowed my head slightly, trying to maintain my composure. "I was unable to. The barrier that was erected around us was incredibly powerful. It blocked all forms of communication and teleportation. I had to act quickly to prevent further damage."

Cocytus, his voice deep and resonant, rumbled from his place. "Who created this barrier?"

"A man in platinum armor," I replied. "He identified himself as Riku Aganeia. He appeared after I had engaged with Shalltear and revealed that he was not an ally of the Black Scripture or the Theocracy. He claimed to have created the barrier to contain the situation. It is likely he saw the battle from the beginning and only chose to appear once it was certain the outcome of the fight was indisputable. He is a third-party and I think he didn't care much for the lives of everyone there."

Aura, with her arms crossed and a thoughtful look on her face, interjected. "What happened to this Riku Aganeia? Where did he go?"

I sighed, trying to recall the details. "He left abruptly. He mentioned that someone had breached his barrier, and he had to attend to it. At first offered his assistance against Shalltear, and he did help, but when he sensed the intrusion, he vanished using a teleportation spell."

Mare, nervously fidgeting, asked in a stutter, "D-did you get any other information from him? Anything that could help us understand his motives?"

I shook my head, feeling a twinge of frustration. "He was cryptic. He spoke of knowing about Yggdrasil and referred to terms like 'Player' and 'NPC.' He claimed to have a duty to protect this world and viewed Shalltear as a threat."

Ainz's eyes flickered with interest. "Yggdrasil terms, you say? This complicates matters. We must consider the possibility that he may be linked to other Players or entities with similar knowledge."

Albedo's gaze was sharp, her eyes narrowing. "Remiel, you must understand the gravity of this situation. Shalltear's actions could have drawn unwanted attention to Nazarick. We cannot afford any more mistakes. And that's without even going into this Riku person."

I met her gaze, feeling the weight of her words. "I understand, Lady Albedo. I did everything in my power to contain the situation and protect Nazarick. I regret that it came to this, but I had no other choice."

Ainz raised a hand, silencing the room. "Enough. Remiel, your actions have raised many questions, but I believe you acted with the best intentions given the circumstances. However, we must remain vigilant. This Riku Aganeia and his knowledge of Yggdrasil terms are concerning."

Ainz's crimson eyes locked onto mine, probing. "Remiel, we need to delve deeper into your actions and motives. Why were you in E-Rantel?"

I steadied my breath, carefully choosing my words. "I was in E-Rantel to finish some leftover business with a priest," I began, carefully omitting the more violent details. "While there, I saw a crowd outside the Adventurer's Guild. A man was loudly professing to all with ears to hear about a vampire attack. The description matched Shalltear perfectly. As the closest to the scene, I felt obliged to find and retrieve Shalltear before her reckless actions could endanger Nazarick."

Ainz nodded slowly. "So you went to find Shalltear. What happened next?"

"Shalltear must have been chasing the escaped man, but she chanced upon the Black Scripture instead. They were there to subjugate something called the 'Catastrophe Dragon Lord,' but instead, they found Shalltear. A battle ensued, and just as I arrived, Shalltear fell under some form of mind control. One moment she was locked in battle versus the Black Scripture, and the next… She was staring lifelessly, unmoving, until one of the Scripture members, an old woman, ordered her to attack. I had no choice but to defend myself."

Ainz's gaze grew more intense. "How exactly was Shalltear mind-controlled? As an undead, she should be immune to such things."

"It appears a powerful item was involved, something capable of bypassing her undead nature. The control over her was unlike anything I have encountered before."

Ainz leaned back, his skeletal fingers tapping the armrest of his throne. "An item that powerful... potentially a World Item."

The Floor Guardians gasped collectively, the realization of a World Item being in this world causing a ripple of shock.

"Remiel," Ainz continued, his voice calm but probing, "what can you tell us about this item?"

A surge of anxiety gripped me, but I maintained my composure. "My lord, the item was in the possession of the old woman from the Black Scripture. I could not discern its true nature or origin during the battle."

Ainz's flaming red eyes narrowed slightly, but he did not press further. Instead, he continued, "Explain the other bodies on the battlefield—the members of the Black Scripture."

"As I said, rhey stated hey were there to subjugate the 'Catastrophe Dragon Lord,' my lord. They mentioned a mission from the Theocracy. They must have encountered Shalltear by accident. When I arrived, they were already in combat with her, and I joined the fight to protect her and subdue her. The Scripture members died in the ensuing battle."

"Very well," Ainz said, his tone contemplative. "And the Vampire Brides?"

I swallowed hard. "During my search for Shalltear, I encountered her Vampire Brides. In an attempt to gain information on Shalltear's location, I interrogated them. One of them proved disrespectful and, in a moment of wrath, I destroyed her. It was a mistake, and I deeply regret it."

Ainz's gaze grew even more intense. "Such actions are unacceptable, Remiel. You are a representative of Nazarick, and your behavior reflects upon all of us. However, given that it was merely a Vampire Bride, the punishment will be minimal. Do not let this happen again. Do not overstep your authority. I do not want internal conflicts."

"Yes, my lord. I understand," I replied, bowing my head.

"Let us return to the topic of the World Item once more," Ainz said, his voice softer but no less commanding, "do you know more about this World Item?"

My heart raced. I couldn't lie, but I had to be careful. I wasn't about to admit that I had the World Item. It was mine. I earned it. Mine. But… My nature prohibited me from lying outright, but I could dodge the question.

"I was unsure of its nature and did not want to jump to conclusions without proper verification. It was a challenging situation, and I did what I thought was best at the time. I can say that it looked like a piece of garment, a fine dress."

"It looked?" Albedo asked.

"I punched a hole in the woman's chest and damaged the dress , and at some point in time her body managed to find itself in my flames."

Albedo nodded and said nothing else.

Internally, I questioned my own motives. Why was I hiding the existence of the World Item? Was it fear, or something else? The uncertainty gnawed at me.

"Where is it now?" Ainz asked.

Again, another direct question. I had to work around it. I cannot tell a direct lie. I wanted to scream, but I had to keep my composure.

"The most logical place to look for the World Item would be on the battlefield, among the corpses. The other Black Scripture members probably also possessed powerful items left there. As a matter of fact, I don't remember taking my sword with me when we left. It's still there on the ground."

"Hmm, we shall have to retrieve it, as well as the bodies and items of the Scripture members. However, Shalltear is there so it may be difficult. Hmmm… No matter, we will do it, I have an idea."

"An idea, Lord Ainz? Can you explain it?" Aura asked.

"Another time, Aura." Ainz waved her off.

"How is it that you faced Shalltear and the Scripture members and survived?" Cocytus asked, his tone serious. Cocytus's eyes were like cold steel as he fixed his gaze on me. "Were you outmatched?"

"There were a few tricky moments, but once I called Behemoth it was easy to have him occupy Shalltear while I mopped up the humans. In truth, had Shalltear not been there, I could have killed them all in under a minute. For an elite force they are not that impressive. No stronger than the Pleiades." I replied.

Cocytus's expression remained stern. "Shalltear is powerful, but in her bloodlusted state she was no more than a rabid dog. The Scripture members, while numerous and strong for humans, were ultimately weak, and prone to being destroyed in one swift blow."

Ainz's gaze was penetrating as he considered Cocytus's assessment. "Hmm… Could you have defeated them had Shalltear not been bloodlusted?"

"If she had not been bloodlusted?" I hesitated, weighing my response. "No, not easily. But… I think that in a one-on-one, I could defeat her, bloodlusted or not. It would be close though. Closer than comfortable."

Albedo's voice cut through the tension, her tone laced with disapproval. "Such arrogance."

Ainz raised a skeletal hand to silence the Guardians, his voice cutting through the discord. "Enough. Remiel, you will be watched closely. We will have further discussions, but for now, you are dismissed. Reflect on your actions and be prepared to answer more questions."

Albedo stepped forward, her gaze sharp and unyielding. "You have a lot to answer for, Lady Remiel. Your actions have put Nazarick at risk."

Cocytus, ever stoic, added, "Honor and duty must be upheld. Your decisions will be scrutinized."

Aura, with a smirk playing at her lips, looked at me with a mix of amusement and seriousness. "You better have good explanations, or it won't look good for you."

Mare, looking nervous and sheepish, stammered, "I-I hope you can clear things up… it's important."

I nodded, feeling the weight of their scrutiny. "I understand. I did what I thought was necessary to protect Nazarick."


Albedo's voice broke in sharply. "And what about Riku Aganeia? Did he reveal any information about his own goals or affiliations? Did he mention any alliance with Nazarick's enemies?"

I shook my head. "Riku was cryptic. He spoke of protecting this world and hinted at knowing about Yggdrasil. He did not reveal any specific alliances, but his actions suggested he had an agenda that conflicted with the Theocracy's. He seemed more concerned with the immediate threat than with revealing his full intentions."

Cocytus's tone was serious. "Did you notice any signs of manipulation or external influences on Riku? Could he have been coerced or controlled?"

I thought for a moment. "I did not perceive any signs of manipulation, but his sudden appearance and his knowledge of Yggdrasil suggest there may be more to his background. His actions seemed driven by a personal mission rather than external coercion."

Aura leaned forward, her expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "Have you encountered any other individuals or groups with similar knowledge of Yggdrasil or its terminology?"

I shook my head. "No. The New World has thus far proven itself to be of a very low power level. The knowledge Riku displayed was unusual and specific, and his power was surprising.To date I have not encountered others with such detailed knowledge in my recent travels."

Ainz's gaze remained steady as he addressed a new concern. "What do you think the Theocracy's response will be? Given that both the Sunlight Scripture and the Black Scripture have been destroyed, should we expect retribution from them?"

I met Ainz's gaze directly. "The Black Scripture is the elite force of the Theocracy, and with their best has already been bested. They don't know who we are or what happened to them. They will stumble in the dark, and if by some miracle they realize it was us, we'll just destroy them."

Ainz nodded thoughtfully. "Very well. Another point of interest: what level would you estimate Riku Aganeia to be based on his strength?"

I paused, reflecting on my encounters. "I didn't get much opportunity to gauge his true power, as his contribution to the fight with Shalltear was limited. However, from what I observed in that brief time, I would estimate him to be around level 85 to 90. He was shifty by nature and may have been concealing his full strength."

Ainz's eyes narrowed with intent. "Once we retrieve the bodies of the Black Scripture, we will attempt to resurrect them for interrogation. You may be called upon to aid in that process. Do you understand?"

I dipped my head in acknowledgment. "I understand."

Ainz's tone turned decisive. "Until further notice, you are confined to the eighth floor. You are not to leave it under any circumstances."

I bowed once more, feeling the weight of their scrutiny as I left the throne room. The burden of their expectations weighed heavily on me, and the path ahead was fraught with uncertainty. My confinement to the eighth floor was a stark reminder of the gravity of my situation. I would have to use this time to reflect on my actions and prepare for the next round of inquiries, knowing that my every move would be closely watched.

Why did I not tell him I still had the World Item?

 

[Lillie Jones]

Whilst Ramiel returns to Nazarcick to report her recent findings on Riku and Shalltear sudden mind controlled stare by the Black Scriptures and Theocracy by giving full attention to Ainz Gown and rest of the Nazarcick conclave.
As Ramiel is heavily scrutinized about the whole incident but her contradictory actions concerning the world item controlling Shalltear, which she couldn't possibly explained stopped after her she carefully omitted her details about the missing World item supposedly left on the battlefield.
Which rest of the Nazarcick team deals with this mystery Riku person and the organization possibly behind him and Ainz Gown possibly worried about more higher mystery players showing up in E Rantel Kingdom in the future.?
Continue on
Cheers!

 

[DarkNacho]

So why are they creating her like this ?
I know they are not the brightest but Even then Ainz should understand the real problem...

 

[BenMalek]

I epilogí tou vasiliá​

The steam rose in thick, swirling tendrils from the hot springs of Nazarick, casting a misty veil over the pristine, marble surroundings. Ainz Ooal Gown, the supreme ruler of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, sat in the tranquil waters, his skeletal frame appearing almost ghostly through the fog. Despite the soothing warmth enveloping him, his mind was anything but at peace.

As he absently ran a cloth over his bony fingers, attempting to clean the already immaculate bones, his thoughts churned with the recent events. The confrontation between Shalltear and Remiel weighed heavily on his mind. Shalltear, one of his most powerful and loyal Guardians, had been mind-controlled and turned against Nazarick. Remiel, a powerful warrior and asset, had been forced to fight her. The implications of their clash were deeply troubling. Even more so considering how Lucifer wrote her to be 'as radiant and proud as the sun'. Their personalities were so different, a clash might have been inevitable…

"Shalltear," Ainz mused aloud, his voice echoing softly in the steamy chamber. "Why did it have to come to this? You are one of the most trusted children of my friends, and yet, your recklessness has brought us to the brink of disaster."

He sighed, a hollow sound that resonated in the empty chamber. The sight of Shalltear and Remiel fighting each other was a painful reminder of the fragile balance he had to maintain within Nazarick. Each of the Floor Guardians was a cherished creation of his former guildmates, and the prospect of them turning against one another was a nightmare he could scarcely bear to consider.

"If only I had logged off before the end of Yggdrasil," Ainz pondered, "would Nazarick have come to this New World by itself? Would the NPCs have started fighting among each other without my guidance? Or would they have found a way to coexist in peace, upholding the legacy of Ainz Ooal Gown?"

The question gnawed at him. The thought of his friends' creations, left to their own devices, descending into chaos was almost too much to bear. Yet, here he was, trying to prevent just that.

He leaned back, letting the water wash over his bones, the heat a small comfort against the cold thoughts swirling in his mind. "Remiel acted with the best intentions, trying to protect Nazarick. But her actions, her secrecy regarding the World Item, it's troubling. I need to understand her motives, her true allegiance. Can I afford to trust her completely?"

Ainz's heart, or what remained of it in his skeletal form, ached at the thought of the conflict tearing at the fabric of Nazarick. "The children of my friends, fighting each other... It was never supposed to be like this."

He stared into the mist, lost in thought. Shalltear's mind control, the barrier erected by Riku Aganeia, the mysterious knowledge of Yggdrasil terms – it all pointed to larger forces at play, forces that threatened the stability of Nazarick and the safety of its inhabitants.

"We must be vigilant," Ainz resolved. "We must prepare for any eventuality. The resurrection of the Black Scripture members may provide answers, and we need to retrieve the items left on the battlefield. But more importantly, I need to find a way to prevent such conflicts from arising again."

He stood, the water cascading off his skeletal form, and began to make his way out of the hot springs. His mind was set, his resolve hardened. The safety and unity of Nazarick were paramount, and he would do whatever it took to protect it.

Just then he heard the tell-tale sound of the [Message] spell.

Perfect timing.

"Lord Ainz, this is Narberal. The guildmaster of the adventurer's guild seeks an audience with you," Nabe's voice conveyed urgency and respect.

Ainz sighed internally, his moment of peace shattered. "Why does he seek me, Nabe?" he inquired, his tone even.

"It's about a vampire attack, ser," Nabe responded.

Ainz cursed silently. "A vampire attack? Could it be related to Shalltear?" The thought made his nonexistent heart clench. His mind spiraled into doubt and self-recrimination. "Damn it. I'm just an upjumped salaryman playing the role of an evil overlord. How am I supposed to handle this? Am I really fit to lead Nazarick?"

He lamented the fact that he was essentially faking everything, doubting his capacity as a leader. But then he reminded himself of his 22nd-century corporate knowledge as a salaryman. Drawing on the techniques of the corporate world, he composed himself, preparing to continue being a good ruler.

Once the morning came, Momon the Black, clad in his imposing black plate armor that covered him from head to toe, arrived in E-Rantel. The armor created a clear distinction between the heroic adventurer Momon and the supreme overlord Ainz Ooal Gown. Nabe and Lupu flanked him, their demeanor respectful and serious.

"Ser Momon, the guildmaster awaits inside," Nabe said, her voice steady.

"Let's go," Ainz replied, his mind still racing but his exterior calm and composed. They entered the adventurer's guild, ready to meet with Pluton Ainzach.

---

As Ainz walked through the grand halls of Nazarick, the echo of his footsteps mingling with the sound of the Tomb's ambiance, he allowed himself a rare moment of incredulous amusement.

"I can't believe they bought that," he thought, reflecting on his conversation with Pluton Ainzach. "Hook, line, and sinker."

In the adventurer's guild, Ainz had spun a tale about his "previous history" with the vampire—how he had been hunting her for a long time, how he only became an adventurer to gain the strength needed to avenge himself upon her and her sister. He even fabricated a twin sister for Shalltear, claiming he had already destroyed her. The cherry on top was the absurd name he concocted for Shalltear: Honyopenyoko.

"And for that, they're going to promote us to adamantite rank," he mused, shaking his head slightly. "All based on a complete bluff."

Ainz couldn't help but marvel at his success. The skills he had honed in the corporate world, manipulating colleagues and navigating office politics, had served him well in this new world. Yet, there was an underlying unease.

"Is this really how it should be?" he pondered. "Lying and bluffing my way through? It feels... wrong, somehow."

But the practical part of his mind overruled the sentiment. "It's necessary. For Nazarick, for the guardians, and for the legacy of my friends."

As he walked, various NPCs and denizens of Nazarick greeted him with deep bows and unwavering respect. He returned their gestures with a nod, maintaining the stoic façade of the Supreme Overlord.

"Still," he thought, "I need to be careful. One wrong move, one slip, and everything could unravel. But for now, I'll take the victories where I can get them."

But his thoughts soon turned dark.

As he walked through the grand halls of Nazarick, his thoughts continued to race. The prospect of another confrontation with Shalltear, the potential threat posed by Remiel's secrecy, and the mysterious agenda of Riku Aganeia all weighed heavily on him.

"I must keep the Guardians united," Ainz thought. "I must find a way to bring them together, to remind them of their purpose and their loyalty to Nazarick. Only then can we face whatever threats come our way, as a united front."


With that resolve, Ainz made his way to the throne room. There were plans to be made, strategies to be devised, and answers to be sought. The path ahead was fraught with challenges, but he was determined to lead Nazarick through them, no matter the cost.

As Ainz made his way through the hallowed halls of Nazarick, the weight of his thoughts pressed heavily on him. The confrontation between Shalltear and Remiel had opened up a chasm of uncertainty and anxiety within him. He could not shake the nagging question: Would Remiel have killed Shalltear if I hadn't intervened?

The very thought sent a shiver down his bony spine. What does that say about her? The idea that Remiel, a mighty and reliable servant he had come to trust, would go so far as to strike down one of his Guardians was alarming. Remiel had been willing to deliver a fatal blow, a decision she would have made out of desperation, but it raised unsettling questions about her character. Did she truly understand the depths of her actions? Or had her instincts as a fighter overruled her reason? Was it a result of her character, and her nature being fundamentally opposed to Shalltear? Perhaps Touch Me was right? What was that quote he liked to say? Something about light and darkness not being able to be friends? If that's true, then it's only a matter of time before Remiel came to blows with the other Guardians.

Or maybe even himself.

Can I truly count on her loyalty to me above all else? If I told her to kill someone she considered innocent, would she do it?

Thoughts of loyalty aside, she was competent and intelligent, and could fit in easily among the humans of this world, a rare quality in Nazarick. And it spoke well that she had already basically handed over the Empire of Baharuth on a plate, cooked and salted, ready to be eaten.


On the other hand, what does the recent fiasco say about Shalltear?

The first time he had sent her on a mission, she had succumbed to mind control. She let an adventurer escape, thus allowing him also to notify the authorities, probably simply because she wanted to play with him or got carried away in her bloodlust, and now word of the vampire attack by the soon to be infamous 'Honyopenyoko' was already spreading. It is a good thing Ainz's position in society allowed him to impact the narrative.


Maintaining the agenda is our top priority. It is much too soon to step out of the shadows.

As for Shalltear, he was disappointed, to put it plain and simple. As one of the most powerful beings in Nazarick, Shalltear's failure to resist manipulation by a World Item was disconcerting. He had no doubt that if Demiurge or Albedo or Pandora's Actor or Remiel were put in a situation where they could potentially end up mind-controlled by a World Item, most likely they wouldn't. At the very least they'd make it out alive if a bit bruised, and if Lady Luck smiled, he'd have another fine addition to his collection in the Treasury.

But Shalltear? She was strong, and haughty. But, was she truly as undefeatable and strong as he had believed? Or was the problem with him, had he been naive to think she could handle herself in the face of such danger?

Ainz shook his head in frustration. These doubts were unwelcome intruders in his mind, gnawing away at the foundation of trust he had built within his domain. He continued walking, mulling over the implications of Remiel's successful subjugation of the Baharuth Empire. Her strategic prowess was commendable, but it also meant she had the potential to be a greater threat than he had anticipated. Ainz still wasn't sure of the absolute loyalty of his NPCs.

The way she wrote in her report of how she dominated the Emperor to seize power revealed her capacity for theatricality, cunning and ambition—qualities he respected, yet feared when they turned against him. Ainz himself never would have thought of dropping the man from a thousand feet in the air and using [Death Ward] to ensure he would survive before healing him, wiping roughly 10 seconds of his memories and then placing him back in his bed, making him think it was a dream before crushing his hopes like Bohemian glass on a stone floor.

I need to find a way to deal with Shalltear, Ainz thought, his mind racing with possibilities. She is still trapped under the influence of that World Item. What if I used [Shooting Star]?

The ring, a treasure capable of granting wishes, had crossed his mind as a potential solution. The power of a wish could potentially free Shalltear from her mind control, but the risk was significant.

What if the wish proves useless if she is dominated by the World Item?

The very idea made him uneasy. And since as far as he knew his stay in this world was permanent, and there was no way to regenerate wishes like in Yggdrasil, he was loath to potentially waste one of his only three wishes.

He knew that if Shalltear remained under control, things could turn dire. He didn't know how the item worked. She might be lost to him forever, and the consequences would be dire.

A thought crossed his mind. When something broke, the easiest fix was always to turn it off and on again. This applied in Yggdrasil as well. Most debuffs and curses, no matter how terrible, could be solved by simply dying and resurrecting. As a matter of fact, it was a tactic sometimes used in large scale PVP battles. Sometimes it'd be more mana-efficient to have someone die and then be resurrected than wasting spells and time on dispelling curses.

If [Shooting Star] fails, Ainz contemplated further, I could always gather the Guardians. We could all gang up on her and forcibly subdue her. Then I could resurrect her in Nazarick, gold cost be damned. The treasury is full anyways. The thought of her resurrection should have been a relief, but instead, it twisted in his chest like a dagger.

The weight of having to battle one of his own, to bring down the very child of his friend in order to save her, was unbearable. What will it do to her psyche? Ainz's heart ached at the thought of them fighting each other. What if I have to face her, to fight against one of my most loyal guardians?

He stopped momentarily, staring at the intricate designs carved into the marble floor. Each line told a story, each crack a memory. The Great Tomb of Nazarick was a testament to their shared legacy, and yet, here he was, contemplating a future where that legacy could be torn apart by conflict.

No, he thought decisively. I refuse to let this happen. I will find a way to resolve this peacefully, to bring Shalltear back without resorting to violence. I must protect them all.

With that resolution, Ainz continued his walk through the halls, determined to seek the counsel of the other Guardians. They would need to discuss their next steps carefully. The threat posed by the World Item was not to be underestimated, and the loyalty of his Guardians depended on him.

Whatever it takes, I will keep my family together. I will protect my children. The thought bolstered his resolve, igniting a fire within him as he prepared to confront the challenges ahead.

And if push came to shove, he'd take responsibility, and ensure Shalltear's blood was on no one's hands but his own.

With these thoughts, a plan began to form in his mind.

It is past time I visited my creation in the Treasury. Oh Pandora's Actor. Have you been as lonely as I feel?

Ainz lamented internally, but first, he had to find out whether or not he could save Shalltear with the use of [Shooting Star].

Would he risk a charge just to ensure he would not have to raise a hand against Peroroncino's daughter?

The answer was a resounding yes.

---

The guardians didn't want him to go alone. But he didn't want them to come with him. And at the end of the day, his word was law.

He did however accept Demiurge's offer to have a dozen Hanzos accompany him to retrieve the bodies.

The battlefield was a real wreck.

Now, barely half a day, in truth, mere hours after the bloodshed, with the sun's rays shining down on the corpses, he saw just how much devastation there was. Remiel had been quite brutal.


Severed limbs and decapitated heads, broken bodies and charred ashes. Necks twisted, corpses pulverized.

The expression on some of their faces was unique for all of them. Some displayed anguish. Others had a look of surprise, or fear, or disbelief, or nothing at all, as if they didn't see their death coming. As if the thought of defeat was anathema.

Fools. The victorious warrior wins first then goes to war. His friend Punitto Moe, a brilliant man in his own right, a lover of histories, had drilled that quote from 'The Art of War' into his head ever since Ainz was a puny skeleton mage being hunted for crumbs of EXP by scantily clad redhead fire-wielding sorceresses and bare chested barbarians wielding giant hammers.

His angel didn't plan on fighting the Black Scripture but she definitely won. However, counting the dead would be difficult, since there were quite a lot of ashes, and the wind had scattered them about.

Ainz's eyes roamed about, looking for something that did not belong, expecting someone to show himself at any moment. No one did.

But he saw Shalltear, her pale skin illuminated by the sun. Even though vampires did not belong in the sun, it did show off a certain hitherto unknown facet of her beauty.

And that same Shalltear… was completely motionless, and seemed unaware of her surroundings. Ainz called out to her from a distance.

"Shalltear!" He shouted. But there was no response.

Hmm… was she on power-saving mode?

Or is it like a raid, where you have to enter the aggro range or attack her to start the fight?

Or is it simply a matter of following her last command, completing it, and waiting for a new command? Remiel said Shalltear was ordered to kill, and as far as her clouded mind was concerned, everything around her was dead.

Whichever of these it may be, her stillness was not underappreciated. A surprise blessing, but not an unwelcome one. It'd allow him to at least do a few things without being disturbed.

"Lord Ainz, should we begin?" One of the Hanzos asked.

Ainz Ooal Gown observed the battlefield with a detached interest as the Hanzos worked with incredible efficiency. The remnants of the fierce skirmish were swiftly removed, leaving no trace of the chaos that had unfolded. He scanned the scene, his gaze lingering on the last item left behind: Remiel's sword.

"Umu." He nodded, signaling one of the Hanzos to approach. The chosen Hanzo, a figure cloaked in shadow and purpose, stepped forward.

"Bring me that sword," Ainz instructed, his tone calm but firm.

The Hanzo moved with practiced grace, retrieving the blade and presenting it to Ainz. He held the blade aloft as he admired it.

The blade, known as "Edge of Night," was a fearsome artifact that combined celestial elegance with a more somber, brutal aesthetic. It was a longsword, stretching nearly five feet in length, with a blade forged from a dark, shadowy metal that shifted between deep obsidian and midnight blue. This darkened hue lent the sword an air of intimidation and strength, contrasting sharply with its celestial associations.

The blade's edge was wickedly sharp and slightly serrated, designed to inflict deep, grievous wounds. Its surface was etched with complex runes that glowed faintly in a ghostly white light, casting an eerie luminescence that highlighted the blade's brutal design. These runes, though elegant in their artistry, seemed to pulse with an oppressive, golden energy, hinting at the sword's ability to channel both healing and harm.

The blade was slightly curved, not only to enhance its lethality but to echo the formidable wings of a fallen angel or a dark seraph. The curvature gave it a brutal elegance, allowing it to deliver both precise strikes and sweeping cuts with deadly efficiency.

The hilt was wrapped in black leather, giving it a grim yet refined appearance. The crossguard was designed to resemble outspread wings, but these were rendered in a darkened, almost barbed style, giving the impression of angelic power twisted into a form of righteous fury. Inlaid with small, blood-red gemstones, the crossguard seemed to pulse with a dark, fierce light, emphasizing the sword's menacing aura.

The pommel was shaped like a dark halo, surrounding a deep cross-like gemstone that seemed to capture a flicker of infernal fire. This design element added a touch of malevolent beauty while providing perfect balance to the sword, making it feel as if it was an extension of the wielder's own dark, celestial will.

Despite its imposing size and dark demeanor, the sword was surprisingly light, its weight meticulously balanced for swift and powerful strikes. The blade was not only a weapon of extraordinary craftsmanship but also a symbol of the complex duality between divine grace and brutal power.

Every aspect of the Edge of Night, from its shadowy blade to its darkly angelic design, showcased its unique blend of celestial elegance and brutal potency, a testament to the profound skill and vision of its creator.

What boy did not want a sword while growing up? Ainz chuckled at the thought. It seemed that even as a magic caster, his collector's spirit manifested itself while marveling at the blade.

He considered the sword's quality, reminiscent of the legendary Divine Class weapons. It was a testament to the extraordinary skill of the blade's forger, his dear friend and fellow guild member Amanomahitotsu.

The blacksmith crab had forged many weapons and armors for Nazarick's faithful. His departure from the guild still ached. Even in the 22nd century, spinal injuries were a terrible thing. His friend was injured, a foolish slip on the ice on his one day off from work. He had recovered to the point where he could walk without issue, but sadly there was permanent spinal damage. Amanomahitotsu could not afford to walk or stand or even sit for an extended period of time. He constantly had to keep changing position, from relaxing to working, lest his spine begin hurting again. He found a job that could accommodate this condition but he unfortunately sold his gaming chair and VR setup, the one hobby he could do for longer than an hour without back-pain, just to afford the surgery, or rather, afford a part of the cost. His friend was still paying off the loans last they spoke.

The greed of the Old World never failed to ignite his anger.

But he chose not to focus on the evil thoughts now. He had enough swimming in his bony skull, and those there didn't need company.

Looking at the blade brought about nostalgia in Ainz's non-corporeal heart. It made him think of his old friend, Wish III. The djinn had relentlessly pestered him to gather data crystals to help forge such an exceptional weapon, always extolling the virtues of quality over quantity. He had not been the only one. He and his friends had spent countless hours, and countless resources both real and in-game not just making sure they had the best gear, but that their creations had the best gear as well.


With a final approving nod, Ainz placed the sword into his inventory, the weight of its legacy and craftsmanship now a part of his collection. Whether it would be returned to Remiel now or later or never, he did not know.

He did know this however. He was in this new world, and there was no going back to the old, for good or ill.

He raised his finger and shouted at the top of his voice, as arcane circles covered, shining brightly, centered around him. The sight resembled an arcane planetarium, and it would doubtlessly impress any unwashed peasant that witnessed it and would cause them to prostrate in fear and awe.

"[Shooting Star]! I wish!" Ainz shouted, pleading the World to bend to his will.

The wish did not take.

What a waste.

Oh well, at least he tried.

He could not be angry. He should not be angry. Being angry was stupid.

Chirp.

His skull turned to the source of the disturbance with uncanny swiftness.

On a branch connected to a tree about fifty feet away, a young swallow was chirping.

It was chirping.

Chirping.

Something broke inside him.

"Damn you!" Ainz shouted, and unleashed a pure pillar of darkness. The spell [True Dark] consumed the bird, the leaves, the branches, and the tree trunk, leaving nothing but silence in its wake.

Ainz teleported back to Nazarick. The first place he headed to was the Throne Room. He sat on the Throne for what felt like ages, his mind blank of thoughts yet seemingly occupied.

Suddenly, he stood up, and teleported once more, this time, to the Treasury.

It had a myriad of defenses, but he knew them all by heart, and thus easily bypassed them.

In the Treasury, Pandora's Actor was a peculiar sight. Adorned in a striking yellow uniform reminiscent of Neo-Nazi elite guards from the Euro-Arcology Wars, he was a stark contrast to the opulence surrounding him. The uniform bore the crest of Ainz Ooal Gown prominently on his hat, emphasizing his role as Ainz's created servant. His face, an expressionless egghead with three distinct holes, made his presence even more enigmatic.

His posture was exaggerated, with dramatic, sweeping gestures that seemed almost theatrical. Despite this over-the-top demeanor, there was a sharp, practical edge to his actions. He greeted Ainz with an overly enthusiastic bow, his voice filled with an admiration that bordered on reverent. The combination of his flamboyant appearance and earnest devotion made him both an impressive and somewhat comical figure in the dimly lit Treasury.

"Ah, my supreme creator, mein Vater, Ainz-sama! To what do I owe the honor of your visit?" Pandora's Actor's voice was filled with admiration and enthusiasm.

Ainz raised a skeletal hand, signaling for him to relax. "I have come to make a withdrawal. I will need to retrieve some [World Items], and some other valuable items as well."

As Pandora's Actor began to respond and go on a Germano-Japanese tirade that would only spin the graves at light speed of any 1940s American or Soviet soldier who heard it, Ainz cringed internally.

You fool, you created him. Now you must suffer his quirks and love him. Quit whining and act like a man, and do what needs to be done.

Yes, he would do what needs to be done.

---

END OF BOOK 1​

---

AN: Here is the end of book 1, and all the chapters I have written. I must say, I do not think I will continue writing this story. The reader-base is quite low. I will probably shelve this story and end it here. I had plans but... I just can't find myself motivated to write the chapters. I did however enjoy having you here, and I hope you enjoyed my story, however short.

 

[Faber_The_Builder]

Maintaining the agenda is our top priority. It is much too soon to step out of the shadows.

Click to shrink...

Is this an Admiral Glazer reference?

With a final approving nod, Ainz placed the sword into his inventory, the weight of its legacy and craftsmanship now a part of his collection. Whether it would be returned to Remiel now or later or never, he did not know.

Click to shrink...

Wow, rude. I do not quite understand their deep apprehension with her. A certain Vampire is the reason for the situation cropping up, fucked up right out of the gate by being super stupid and got barely punished in canon and most likely here. The mastermind of the takeover of the Empire, peerless bloody record among the Guardians? Even Demiurge can´t boast about the accomplishments compared to Remiel. What does she get? Confined to quarters and weapon confiscated.

 

[Herofox]

I do not think I will continue writing this story.

Click to shrink...

That's a shame but understandable. Maybe you can come back to it one day, but good luck on you're next ventures.

I will suggest trying to post this story on Sufficient Velocity and Spacebattles though, as in my experience those sites just have a larger reader base for stories like this.

I mention it cause I only found this story on this site where NSFW stories are allowed. If you have posted on both sites already, than I can't really suggest anything else other than I enjoy the story you've written.

Of course motivation is a separate thing entirely. You can't force yourself to write a story.

Edit: Though if you can't post on Sufficient Velocity or Spacebattles for another reason than I apologize for bringing up the topic.

 

[Lillie Jones]

Thanks for the Journey

 

[Dmrules]

Thanks for the story.