I do not own Overlord and its characters.
Malekor, the entity considered to be the 14th highest ranking devil in the realm, was troubled. The tall, pale demon's problems had begun when he sensed that some of the resident demons living within his [Domain] were fighting and dying. This much alone would not be cause for alarm, since scarce resources meant that the rabble scraping out an existence would often thin itself through infighting.
However, just as the rate of deaths began to become more worrying, the devil felt his [Domain] quickly receding. This could only mean one thing, the presence of another devil in the region. Effectively blinded, he dispatched his 3rd legion to investigate.
It was very rare for a devil to personally appear on the battlefield, which was what Malekor assumed was the case, since it was the only thing that could explain his [Domain] being pushed back. The reason devils did not often venture to the frontlines was because such an action rarely justified the risks. After all, they were ranked not by combat potential - although higher ranked devils often had higher levels of battle potency corresponding to their rank - but by the portion of the World Core which they controlled.
The World Core could be considered to be the center of the realm, and was the font of all demonic essence. Over thousands of years, ancient infernal machines were constructed that allowed devils to access the energies of the World Core directly, and summon demons using their own power.
Before long, in a time before Malekor had even existed, the energies of the World Core had been completely claimed, divided between competing devils. And thus, a millennium-spanning conflict began. Summoning demons reduced the percentage of the World Core that a devil owned, while gathering power over time and dominating other devils would increase this share. Finding a balance between expending power to summon an army and trying to amass power through time and conquest was difficult.
Finally, after many thousands of years, it seemed that a balance had been found, with 17 of the most powerful devils claiming the vast majority of the demonic energy and forming a pact. Under this treaty, they would not seek to reduce another one of the 17's power by invading and killing their subjects and forcing them to summon replacements, but would instead hunt down newly emerging devils and maintain the current balance.
With access to about four percent of the World Core's energies, Malekor was rank 14 among the Council of 17. However, even devils higher ranked than him would be hesitant to engage him in combat. This was due to his ability to use [Teleportation], a rare skill that made him very dangerous to face unprepared.
He had chosen to send the 3rd legion to meet the threat encroaching upon his territory because its commander, Ashme, was an unusually powerful demon lord. In fact, it could be said that the unassuming humanoid would be a match for any lesser devil.
It was not that other demon lords did not have the potential to reach Ashme's level of strength, but that usually they would themselves evolve into devils before such a point. When this happened, they would be eliminated. The result was that the armies that protected devils were usually much weaker than the devils themselves, and extraordinary fighters like Ashme were very rare indeed.
As for why that particular demon lord had not evolved into a devil, Malekor could only speculate. It was most likely because Ashme did not possess the cunning of a devil in any significant quality. Truthfully, the commander of the 3rd legion was very unintelligent, but he was powerful enough to handle most issues with lesser devils without needing to resort to much more than brutally straightforward tactics.
It was for this reason that when Malekor told his commander to attempt to negotiate a surrender, before disposing of the threat, he didn't expect that negotiations would actually occur. He hadn't told Ashme that there was a devil present because such extra details might make the dull demon lord behave unexpectedly.
Lesser devils who had acquired an infernal machine usually attempted to upset the power balance in the same way as the devils of old: by sending armies to clash with one another. Therefore, Malekor usually had to send his forces directly to where a devil was hiding out in order to dispose of it. Ashme had fought and killed devils before, so he was sure handling one in the open would not be a problem.
Of course, Malekor had never considered that the [Domain] pushing against his own could possibly be stronger. The obvious conclusion was that it was holding strong against his only because the devil at its center was closer to the point where the territories were clashing.
When Ashme disappeared from his master's senses and entered the encroaching region of the supposed invader, Malekor retired to his inner sanctum to use his infernal machine and commune with the World Core. For a moment, all seemed to be fine, with his degree of power remaining a healthy margin above that of the rank 15 devil, and no new pockets of power indicating the rise of a lesser devil appearing within the divided energy reservoir.
Then, without warning, Malekor sensed an unclaimed void appearing within the energies of the World Core. Such an event within the churning essence of the core could only mean one thing: a ranked devil had been slain!
It took a while for him to recover from his shock, but by closing his eyes and concentrating, he could feel the respective sizes of the remaining claimed portions and determined which devil the void should have belonged to. The unmistakeable spheres of influence of the nine most powerful devils were still present, but the 10th… the 10th was missing!
Malekor barely had time to process that he had just become the rank 13 devil, when he sensed his peers' hold over the World Core's energies expanding to fill the gap. Hastily, he focused, pouring his energy into his infernal machine, and felt his control over the demonic energies that fueled the realm growing.
Suddenly, a new energy signature appeared, and quickly pushed back the shares of the other devils. It grew rapidly, and Malekor felt his influence waning. The new zone of control grew and grew, until finally settling at a point where it had claimed over 10 percent of the World Core's power.
A new devil had just emerged out of nowhere and claimed the rank 6 position!
The council, now of only 16, would surely convene to discuss this new threat. Such meetings were always tense times, fraught with danger. It was a prime occasion for assassins to make a bid on a devil's life, and the council members themselves would subtly test the power levels of their peers, seeing if they had weakened at all or had become vulnerable.
It was in this moment, while Malekor was still caught in the riptide of shock generated by the unforseen emergence of a new ranked devil, that he sensed Ashme re-enter his [Domain]. The demon lord was moving quickly, and was alone. Reaching out to discover his basic emotional state, the devil was disturbed to find that his subject was a mess of fear and confusion.
Wasting no time, Malekor teleported directly to Ashme. His trump card that made him feared among even the higher ranked devils also made it relatively safe for him to expose himself in such a way, as no devil encountered up to that point had the ability to block his [Teleportation] ability.
Ashme sported numerous wounds, from burns to gashes. He was openly bleeding in many areas. This only served to further fluster the devil who was already having a decidedly bad day.
"What is the meaning of this!"
The demon lord felt the [Domain] of his master suddenly wash over him, and fell to his knees in a mixture of exhaustion and tentative relief.
"Defeat, Lord Malekor! My legion is no more!" he cried out in despair.
"What?! Just who is responsible for this?! Tell me, did you face an enemy devil?"
"There was a devil, but he did not reveal himself. Instead, I was beset by three demon lords, all of them similar to me in strength, if not stronger!"
This gave Malekor pause. For a moment, he simply stood there, shellshocked.
"...That's impossible. Such cooperation is unheard of, not to mention the existence of demon lords at your level is rare, given that most evolve into devils at even half your level of combat power!"
Though he said these words, deep inside he began to realize the truth of the situation. The fact that none of the common demon soldiers had returned supported Ashme's claims. If the legion commander was to face off against his own troops, he would most likely narrowly lose. Two beings of similar strength would win a decisive victory, and with a third to turn the tide against Ashme himself… the demonic commander's lone retreat made perfect sense.
This was how power worked in the world, where the strong were worth orders of magnitude more than the weak. It was the fact that those who grew beyond a certain point required elimination that gave rise to the odd reality where devils competed indirectly for power using pawns many times weaker than themselves, and "champions" like Ashme were outliers - few and far between.
Malekor considered the situation for a moment. Could this be related to the sudden, unexplained demise of the rank 10 devil? No, even if it was, it would have no effect on the orders he would give Ashme. The demon lord was not intelligent enough to be of any help. He hadn't responded to Malekor's statement on the impossibility of three powerful champions being present in one army, because he was unable to form an opinion based off his current knowledge.
"Ah, forget my last statement Ashme. Don't strain yourself. Instead, return to the fortress and report all you remember to one of my aides. Once you are recovered, I would have you serve as my personal protector until such time as I reassign you to another legion."
Not wishing to look upon the pitiable form of his ravaged champion any longer, Malekor teleported back to his inner sanctum. Reaching out with his spindly, white clawed hands, the devil activated his infernal machine to reobserve the distribution of the World Core's power.
"Impossible… the newcomer… rank 5?!"
Alastor's heart was pounding, racing far ahead of the steady march of the Infernal Legion, though it couldn't be said that their pace was not a fast one. Driven by the desire to see the two Supreme Beings returned to their rightful position - surrounded by thousands that would die for them - the invaders from the Sorcerer Kingdom did not rest, nor did they falter.
The reason Alastor was so excited was simple. From what he had seen, soul shards had a great chance of coalescing from those slain in this realm! This had been harder to observe in the chaos of the first clash, but when a great host of enemies were mown down by the legion's ranged attacks, it became plain to see that here, one might even be able to gather enough shards to merit ascension based on this achievement alone!
A few minutes ago, the Evil Lords that had been dispatched to deal with those that would seek to interfere with rejoining the Supreme Beings had returned. They were all superficially injured, but their regenerative abilities had obviously already begun to kick in, and the legion healers made short work of whatever physical marks were left over.
For the last hour, Tarybdis and Alastor had been attempting to edge over to the front of the group of New World recruits following the legion proper. Since Demiurge's command platform of bone was near the rear, the pair had been able to reach a point where they could see the floor guardian in detail.
At the moment, the Evil Lords were deliberating with their master, and snippets of the conversation could be heard. Wrath in particular spoke loudly, and seemed to be upset.
"...filthy slime! I will… …for the insult to my… ...dirty magic caster!" he could be heard shouting.
"Patience… ...no merit in pursuing… ...made the correct choice," said the calmer Demiurge.
"...upon me! I pride myself… ...rational decisions… ...more fiery brother…" another Evil Lord said.
"This will not go unanswered!"
"...about we… ...the recruits. Since… ...than deadweight…"
A few seconds later, the voice of Demiurge cut through the air.
"Volunteers from the Undercity, perhaps you are tired of trailing behind in the rear? I have a task for you. My lieutenant Wrath has an unpaid debt to the leader of that supposed "legion" we encountered earlier. My soldiers have no time for turning back, but perhaps you can appease Wrath. He sustained significant damage from a magical attack, and had no opportunity to return the favor before the cowardly enemy retreated."
'Finally we're being put to use again,' Alastor thought, missing the excitement of getting his first kills during the first battle, already pushing the fact that he nearly died to the corner of his mind.
"According to my Evil Lords, those of you who survived the first engagement should be a match for two more "legions" if they are of the same strength as the one from before that was rude enough to become an insignificant roadblock. Defeat them, and subdue Ashme. You would not have my lieutenant live with a debt left to be payed, would you now?"
The demons that had been in the vanguard units during the initial push, who were now acting as the rearguard, roared in response. They were encouraged by the fact that a new purpose had been found for them.
Demiurge sounded satisfied, as he said, "Fantastic. I believe the Supreme Beings themselves would be pleased. I leave the rest to you, the four veteran officers I had assigned to your vanguard units shall keep me informed of your progress. You may begin!"
Once more, the assorted New Worlders erupted in jubilation. It seemed like they were surrendering to their more primal instincts, fueled by excitement and wrath.
"Quiet down! Quiet down!"
The officers from the legion tried desperately to calm the horde so that they could dispense orders. Finally, after a few minutes, they managed to do just this.
"Right. Since most of you have never participated in organized warfare, we will instead have you organize yourself into parties, like it is done in adventurer's guilds. It should take about an hour to retrace our steps to where we crossed paths with this Ashme. You have until then to group up."
This much was easy enough to understand. Adventurer's guilds were a staple of every city in the Sorcerer Kingdom, and citizens from every race and background, including demonkind, were allowed to join. This gave various benefits such as access to training facilities, equipment, and other useful resources. If Alastor had not needed to take care of his mother and sisters in the wake of his father's death, he would surely have attempted to become an adventurer and be sent off to explore uncharted lands. Although, perhaps his friendship with Tarybdis would not have grown as it did if he had made such a decision.
The insectoid in question was currently casting a professional eye on those around them, scoping out potential party mates.
"We would ideally need a frontline warrior, a healer, and someone who can deal ranged damage," Tarybdis noted. "Do not hold high expectations for finding such a balanced group."
"You are well-respected in the Undercity. Surely we shall have our choice of potential battle allies!"
Tarybdis made an odd clicking sound. Alastor understood this as something that signified amusement.
"Truthfully, I do not think most citizens can tell me apart from the other Insect Warriors by appearance alone. They simply know me based on my routine, and the places I frequent."
"Then, should we not announce who you are? Everyone I know recognizes you as the friendliest of those from Cocytus' army."
"That would not be wise," Tarybdis advised. "If we do that, there is a chance that unideal group-mates will seek to join us."
While carrying on this conversation, the two were walking quickly, passing their comrades as they attempted to get to the front of the group. After so much effort spent getting near enough to see Demiurge clearly, the following about-face had left them at the very back.
They were suddenly cut off by a shouted warning piercing through the air. "Attention! A large mass of demons approaching our right flank!"
It seemed that roving bands of disorganized demons like those first encountered upon crossing the portal were common in these lands.
"To arms! Those who already have found a group to fight with, cycle to the front!" the veteran officer commanded them.
Even though they had not found any additional members for their squad, Alastor and Tarybdis instinctively advanced to meet the oncoming wave, which was now a few hundred meters out, kicking up a cloud of red sand in its wake. It was their like-minded ambition, manifesting in unspoken agreements like this, that really laid bare what was at the core of their promise to support each other and attain their shared ultimate goal.
"This time, you listen to what I say. Remain focused," Tarybdis reminded his friend.
Alastor nodded, settling into a balanced stance as the first wave of imps crashed into them. This particular horde was mostly composed of these smaller beings.
"Don't waste your time trying to grab them, kick or swipe them aside! If one loses balance, crush its skull underfoot!" the insectoid advised.
Alastor heeded these words, keeping his center of gravity low and knocking aside the first couple imps that collided with him. Having learned from his last battle, he kept his wings folded, so that they wouldn't be exposed to a stray claw here or there.
A fireball impacted the demonkin, singing the whiskers on his face. His high level of fire resistance negated the damage, but the smoke left behind momentarily blinded him. In this moment of distraction, a bright red imp with a burning tail leapt onto Alastor's chest, digging its wicked nails into his leathery flesh.
This was more of an annoyance than a serious injury, as only the first centimeter of skin had been pierced. The offending imp made things even more irritating when it belched a mouthful of sour-smelling flames that engulfed the one it was clinging to.
Snarling, Alastor ripped the demon from his chest, ignoring the pain of the puncture wounds it left behind, and threw it with all of his might straight down onto the ground. It bounced once with the sound of many bones shattering, and molten fluid started to pool beneath it as it began leaking its life force. One second later, its skull was flattened by a foot stomping down on it.
Tarybdis was racking up an impressive amount of kills. He had equipped his shield, and was using it offensively to bash the imps off their feet, then separate their heads from their bodies with swift downward chops. Even while repeating the same combination with brutal efficiency, he tried to find space to call out incoming clusters of enemies for Alastor when he could.
"Three coming at you, forty-five degrees to your left! Wicked looking teeth; don't let them bite you."
"Lend me a hand?"
"Get behind me, I'll knock one of them to you and dispatch the rest."
The three imps Tarybdis had spotted - sporting many rows of vicious teeth in an unnaturally large mouth - chittered incomprehensibly as they leapt at the Insect Warrior. Skillfully, he stepped to the side, speared one in the gut in mid-flight, and used his shield to deflect another to Alastor.
The third flew just past Tarybdis, and barely had time to gather itself as he spun around and decapitated it using the side of his spear-tip in an impressive display of precision.
Alastor caught the imp that had been redirected at him. To his dismay, he had caught it by its lower jaw, and it immediately sunk its teeth into his wrists. Fortunately for him, it seemed there was a significant level difference at play, and the sharp-looking teeth were not able to penetrate his skin.
Roaring a tribute to his patron Supreme Being, Alastor ripped open the jaws of the biting imp and tore off its lower one. He then cast it onto the ground like forgotten trash, leaving it to die.
As the imp stopped twitching, energies within it pooled together to form something solid. A soul shard!
Entranced, Alastor snatched up his new prize and held it into the air, inspecting it. He was vaguely aware of Tarybdis rushing in front of him, protecting him from at least two more imps if the dull thuds against the shield were anything to go by.
"Stay focused! Survive this bout and that won't be the last of your rewards!"
Alastor hurriedly snapped back to attention just in time to relieve his friend who was being beset by four club-wielding imps.
'We can do it. We can ascend!'
With strengthened resolve, the half-demon from the Undercity re-engaged the enemy, killing with a ferocity that belied the fact this could only be said to be his second battle.
"He was here! My beloved Lord Momonga! I can feel his scent in the air. We cannot be far behind!" Albedo announced, clutching her bosom in joy, running a finger over her ring of Ainz Ooal Gown.
"Hahh. Will you give it a rest?" While Shalltear would not deny that Lord Momonga had a lovely scent - partly because she didn't actually take note of such a thing and didn't want to let this fact paint her as a less attentive lover than Albedo - she admired their skeletal lord's physical beauty above all. Thus, she had grown tired of Albedo's persistent obsessing over the supposed olfactory trail they were following.
"Shalltear," Albedo responded imperiously. "You would do well to observe Lord Momonga's scent. If there ever comes a time where we must track him using nothing but our noses, it would be unforgivable for you to fail at such a task."
The vampire was about the rebut that such a scenario was far-fetched, but then she started thinking about what sort of circumstances would force her into such a situation and got side-tracked thinking about blindfolds. And what Lord Momonga could do with her blindfolded. So in the end she said nothing.
"You. Two. Bicker. Too. Much." Cocytus exhaled, releasing a puff of mist into the air. "Please. Contain. Yourself. In. Front. Of. My. Creator."
Normally, Cocytus would silently hope that the two women would not break out into a full-fledged argument, and intervene only when things escalated. However, in the presence of Warrior Takemikazuchi, he felt it safer to take preemptive measures.
"It's fine, Cocytus." Takemikazuchi seemed amused. "Now if we've quite finished discussing how to smell out my dear friend, can we talk about this spectacle?"
The Supreme Being was referring to the Great Portal, activated in the distance. The group was still a couple kilometers away from the city Momonga had said he was headed to, but they could already see the structure, and what appeared to be a massive amount of movement beneath it.
Cocytus exhaled once more. "An. Undead. Army." he announced, easily seeing the details at such a distance with the keenness of a level 100 warrior's eyesight. The others could also clearly see troops of undead marching through the portal, with skeletal dragons and wraiths flying overhead.
"Indeed," Takemikazuchi confirmed. "It seems you might just be having your date in this so-called 'Demonic Plane', Albedo."
And so, the quartet quickly headed towards the city. Lining the streets of Katze were its citizens, kneeling with their heads pressed against the ground, many holding back tears. Most of them could scarcely believe they were not dreaming. First Peroroncino and Ulbert Alain Odle had appeared to them; gods descending from a realm of fantasy, possessing unfathomable powers. Next, four Supreme Beings and two legendary battle maids had walked casually among them, exuding boundless royalty. The city's folk had also borne witness to not just one, but two great armies of Nazarick! Now, some of the most powerful fighters on the face of the planet were about to arrive in short order.
It was not a good day to be a human with a heart condition.
I know this chapter might raise more questions than it answers, but please bear with me. I could tell you a nice analogy to Yggdrasil to help explain the World Core, but I'll let a Supreme Being do just that in the next chapter. The power levels of Malekor's forces can be inferred through some guesswork, but most of those in his legion are between level 30-50, with Ashme being an outlier at above level 90. However, none of them have very well-specced "builds" since they don't actually perceive their levels and can't select their stats and skills the way Yggdrasil players could.
This chapter also breaks the 1/3 OCs, 2/3 Nazarick ratio I had for most of the previous ones, so I apologize if you find it less interesting. I promise the next chapter will make up for it. I know I'm putting a lot on what's coming up, so I won't make you wait more than a few days.