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This story uses the same setting as my other story "Momon, Big Black Changeling". Essentially, Ainz Ooal Gown is the same type of creature as in that story, although this and that story happen in different worlds.


Ainz awoke to a warm presence by his side. For a moment, he thought he was still back at home, at Earth, snuggled under the covers of an artificial heating blanket during a particularly cold winter. Then, he realized he was actually naked. Then he realized the warmth he felt was actually a body he was embracing closely. Then he smelled the familiar scent of stale sex, which made him open his eyes.

Albedo's face was right in front of him. She dozed, her cute beautiful, pale features looking so innocent in slumber. Albedo's wing was slung over his waist; and her arms were wrapped around his chest. Seeing Albedo in all her naked glory brought the requisite memories back, which made him smile.

Yes, that certainly had happened, hadn't it? It hadn't just been a fantasy. He hadn't just been having a particularly wet and lewd dream. He'd just had the most amazing sex for what seemed like hours. And if not for his falling asleep, he could well imagine he could have gone on for even longer-as the doppelganger's body seemed resistant to fatigue.

His stirring seemed to have alerted something in Albedo, as her eyes fluttered open, blearily staring at him for a few moments before she melted into a warm smile.

"Lord Ainz..."

"Um... uh..." He found himself unable to speak for a few moments, before he too offered his own smile. "Uh... good morning, Albedo."

"Good morning, Lord Ainz!" she said brightly. She moved her body more now, her wings furling behind her back, her legs uncoiling from his.

Perhaps it was really time to rethink his position, and his opinions about this world, and of the NPCs. First of all, he couldn't just think of the lot of them as NPCs anymore. They were real, living beings, with their own thoughts and ambitions, their own feelings and desires. He saw no reason to deny himself, to resist his own surging emotions, just because of his own preconceived notions.

And besides, who could ever refuse such a beautiful face as Albedo's?

"Lord Ainz..." The Overseer's lips puckered into an expectant kiss. Ainz smiled, and drew her closer, matching his lips to hers. At first, it was merely the linking of lips, a brief shallow thing. Then their exchange grew deeper, grew hotter. Moaning into him, Albedo's tongue playfully stole into his mouth, and sought a challenge from his own tongue. "Pff... ahnn... haaah... Lord Ainz... Lord Ainz..."

Now he was nibbling the corner of her lips, slathering her tongue liberally with his own spit. He grunted appreciatively, his hand now exploring the exquisite curve of her back, moving over its surface with rising urgency.

A small beep in his mind, however, interrupted him. Breaking the kiss, he blinked, then realized that had been the ping of a Message in his mind. "Who is this?" Ainz asked aloud. Realizing what had happened, Albedo pouted, though she nuzzled her face against his neck.

"...My pardons, my lord," came Demiurge's voice. "I crave your forgiveness for interrupting whatever it is you are doing, but it seemed important. Apparently, there has been some success in the interrogation of the prisoner you defeated, lord."

"Ah. Is that so?" He rubbed Albedo's shoulder-blades, marvelling at the cute sounds she made every time he touched a ticklish part of her. "Well, I shall certainly listen to it next time, Demiurge. However, right now-"

"Ah, I certainly do understand my lord, but please be patient; as I once more pray for your most earnest understanding. It seems that there are elements in the report, Lord Ainz, that Neuronist felt, and I also share the conclusion, will be of great interest, my lord."

"Get to the point," he snapped.

"Of course, of course. The report from that prisoner mentioned the knowledge of Players, my lord." Ainz' heart stopped, and he felt as if he'd just been sucker punched in the gut. "While also mentioning certain artifacts that have been classified as 'World' items. The rest of the report is unremarkable in of itself, and I was ready to have Neuronist report to you herself; however, the inclusion of certain important terms was something she judged correctly to be quite important. And that is why I've so rudely called upon you, my lord. My most earnest apologies yet again."

"No, that is..." Gently, he eased Albedo away. The Overseer might have protested with a playful mewling sound; but then she saw the frown on his face, and her expression returned to her usual cool demeanor. "That is indeed very welcome news, Demiurge. I thank you for being prompt with the knowledge."

"Understood. For more on the report, I have instructed Neuronist Painkiller to deliver her write-up to you personally. I believe she should be at the Throne Room area by now."

"Very well, very well," said Ainz, and the call terminated. Ainz looked around. His current transformed heart thudded harsh and loud in his chest. Seeing Ainz's hurried and worried demeanor, Albedo ventured to ask:

"Is something the matter, my lord?"

"Nothing good, I'm afraid," he said, eyes narrowed. "We shall need to improvise from now on. Our situation has just become all the more precarious."

"I see."

He blinked, then looked at Albedo, who was still only half-dressed. "I'm sorry, Albedo, for ruining our first morning together."

Albedo blushed, though she turned away from him, her hands on her cheeks. "It's alright, my lord. It was my pleasure, truly, and I am more than satisfied with the result."

"Hn. Of course, there will be more to come in the future," he said reassuringly.

Albedo bowed. "I am truly honored by your generosity, my lord."

He waved a hand. "It's not just generosity, you know." Perhaps it was love? He struggled on revealing that; he wasn't sure he was ready for all that mushy, gushing stuff just yet.

"Let us go, Albedo."

"Yes. I shall always be behind you, my love."


CZ2128 Delta, also known to her sisters as "Shizu", wondered at the changes in the world around her. For one, it seemed that Lord Ainz's blessing had been bestowed upon some of her fellow sisters, like Narberal, Yuri and Lupusregina. She had no idea what such "blessings" truly meant, but she did know that it had resulted in Yuri and Lupus coming back in the middle of the previous night wearing only skimpy clothes, and their bodies smelling kind of strange.

Then they seemed to kind of ignore Shizu, and went into their own appointed rooms. Not finding it strange, she was content to remain on stand-by, as no new orders had come from Yuri Alpha concerning her new directives.

Now, at the break of dawn, she woke from standby to find that a lot of things had happened. Narberal Gamma had returned, and stood there conversing in quick, hushed tones with Yuri. For some reason they kept looking over at her furtively.

The two of them approached. Shizu straightened.

"Shizu, you have new orders," Yuri said. On the outside, nothing seemed to have really changed with Yuri-nee, although it seemed she was "shining" somehow-or perhaps it was a malfunction in her eyes.

"Yes," she replied in acknowledgement. Yuri glanced at Narberal, who nodded, then explained the mission to her.

"Understood," she said, when the briefing concluded. "But, Narberal, how does this relate to Nazarick? Is this apprentice of yours really such a good person?"

Yuri's brow raised, and with a small smile she turned to regard Narberal, whose stoic brows had furrowed.

"Let's just say I have a plan involving her, Shizu, which Lord Ainz has approved-but an emergency has arisen, so I have to temporarily cease my duties."

"I see. I will be assigned to her full-time then?"

Yuri shrugged. "Until something of more importance comes up."

"Please be gentle with the insect. They are easily crushed, and I cannot petition Lord Ainz for a resurrection."

Shizu's blank stare turned just a bit colder. "Narberal, I do not fail. Failure to me is not an option. Do not question this unit's competence."

"Well, I'll hold you to that. Does Shizu know the new protocols?" Narberal asked.

"Regarding the proper conduct and use of appropriate guises during interactions with the outside inhabitants?" Shizu rattled off without taking a breath. "Yes, it was disseminated yesterday. I have learned and processed the mandates."

"Very good. Here, then, is the disguise that Lord Ainz has set you to do. You won't be using your Gunner skills, but here is an item Lord Ainz provided..."


It was night on the road back to the capital of the Re-Estize Kingdom. A solitary carriage-richly painted and furnished with vain and beautiful designs and studded with gems that glittered like the stars above-wound its way down that road, untroubled by the bumps and rocks its wheels encountered along the way. It had been enchanted by vigorous magics, such that those occupying it would have a comfortable journey wherever they went regardless of the condition of the road.

Normally the sight of such a noble and rich-looking vehicle would have been sighted long before their departure from whatever town they'd left, and they'd soon find some sort of ambush along the way. It had been tried before, and many were the unfortunate who discovered that the carriage was as much of a trap as the one they'd thought to have planted. The beings within were more than a match for the average thug and highwaymen-very lopsidedly so. For starters, the driver designated for the carriage was Sebas Tian, leader of the Pleiades, and the so-called Butler of Steel.

In the flimsiest of fantasy scenarios where he would be overcome, however preposterous that sounded; well, a worse terror awaited within the carriage itself.

That would be Shalltear Bloodfallen: vampire, and Floor Guardian of Nazarick.

It would not be wise to test the vampire tonight, of all nights. If, by some chance, a group would actually end up stopping them on the road, then woe unto them for volunteering to be living targets for Shalltear's rage. The night's chill outside was certainly reflected within the carriage itself, as the petite vampire seethed with strong emotions.

The pale, beautiful, nymph-like girl's face was currently twisted into a rictus of rage and anguish. Her hands were balled mercilessly over the breasts of the vampire ladies flanking her, her fingers twisting over the fleshy mounds until her nails practically drew blood. The vampires, who were quite used to their mistress' moods and whims, were nonetheless perplexed by the extreme nature of her current state.

The other occupant in the carriage was someone recently returned from being recalled back to Nazarick. Solution Epsilon was one of the monstrous and beautiful Pleiades, and she sat sedately opposite from Shalltear without saying a word. One could have said that the blonde was cold, or that she'd been frightened into silence by Shalltear's frenzied mood. Whichever it was, Solution kept her peace, her blue eyes staring blankly at nothing, and merely waited while the Floor Guardian kept on ranting and raving in front of her.

"How dare that, that BITCH! How dare she? How dare she?" Shalltear screamed, her shrill voice piercing and unhinged. With every word she slammed the vampire ladies hard against the cushions, until the milky skin on their breasts tore and bled. "She knew... she KNEW I was on assignment here- no, wait." A grinding noise came from within her mouth, now filled by teeth filed into needle-sharp points. "Of course! How could I not see it? How foolish of me! Of course I would be sent here." She cackled, a fanatical glimmer in her eye. "A preemptive strike, so she could move on my man! Oh, she thinks she's so clever sending me away, thinking I would matter less to lord Ainz's heart if I were out of Nazarick! Out of sight, out of mind? Not bloody likely! We'll see who gets him ultimately in the end, Albedo. I won't lose! I'm going to pleasure Ainz so much he'll forget he ever bedded you, you vapid whore! Sebas!"

The carriage slowed down. After a moment, the carriage door opened, where Sebas stood there smartly, his hands behind his back. "Yes, lady Shalltear?"

She pointed at the man. "Take us somewhere private. I want to take us back to Nazarick, on the double! I must make an earnest appeal to our lord Ainz!"

The butler's expression did not waver, though his eyes did shift to Solution Epsilon. He cleared his throat. "Begging your pardon, Lady Shalltear, but that is a direct contradiction with the orders Lord Ainz has given us. Do you think it wise to countermand his orders?"

Shalltear's face twisted even further, as she placed her face close to the butler's, spittle flying from her once delicate mouth. "Haaah? Wise? Listen here you insubordinate knave, you dare to question my will? Are you challenging me, Sebas Tian? Would you think that to be wise?" As she spoke, the surface of the carriage underneath her palms cracked and splintered.

Sebas's eyes narrowed. Though endowed with much authority and power by the Supreme Beings, which elevated him above most in Nazarick, there were those whom even he would hesitate to pit his might. The Floor Guardians-along with the Overseer who ruled above all-exercised greater authority bestowed on them by the Supreme Beings; although on the basis of power, Sebas counted among their number. And that was not to mention the effort it would take to even contemplate turning his fists against a fellow creation of their masters, even if they offended him on a personal level, like Demiurge or Shalltear.

Shalltear in particular... well, he had no illusions of besting the vampire at a one-on-one. When ranked by pure power, Shalltear Bloodfallen stood above the rest of the Guardians. It seemed folly to contest her whims; on the other hand, the word of a Supreme Being went above such things. But he surely could not enforce Lord Ainz's will on Shalltear just by himself.

While Sebas bristled with tension, still undecided on what to do, Solution Epsilon spoke for the first time since she'd ridden the carriage. "Lady Shalltear, I also believe this not to be a wise course of action."

A shrill silence followed. One could hear the bones in her neck creak as Shalltear turned to look at the maid. "Pardon? Pardon moi, but did some lowly maid not even fit to lick out my ass and shine my heels, did some washed out rag like that just dare to speak out? Against me? Well?"

Solution's eyes were cold, as they always were, and were yet unfazed by the threat of violence that coiled around Shalltear like a tangible serpent, ready to strike. She was well aware of all that Shalltear could leverage. Any other time and she would have been cowed: and would follow the rules of nature handed down by their Creators, that the weak bow to the strong.

But she recalled her lord's warm embrace, the scent of his human form filling her mind as he claimed her with a deep kiss. It stoked the fire in her core, which burned more than any predatory feeling she'd ever felt. Oh yes, she could certainly understand the frustration that baked within Lady Shalltear's mind, as it was the same kind of frustation she too felt when she was sent out of Nazarick to return to her duties. Of her sisters, Nabe had been the first; and then, perplexedly, the next to be chosen, hand-picked by Lady Albedo herself, had been Yuri and Lupusregina. The three had surely been granted their lord's love, and wasn't that the worst feeling, to be passed over?

So she could well empathize, with both Lady Albedo and Shalltear. She had been passed over, and the envy burned within her like molten rock. Yet she had kissed her lord, sharing their fluids in such an intimate manner, and it gave her a great feeling of superiority over those who had not experienced the same thing, like Shalltear Bloodfallen.

"Our lord said this to me, when I asked him the same favor he showed Narberal Gamma," she began. "I-"

"Wait, what? WHAT? Narberal Gamma had- how did that- and you- You! You!"

Shalltear had seized her by the front of her uniform, and shook her back and forth. Because she was, fundamentally, a slime, the action did not discomfort her as it should, which was why she was able to continue saying:

"Lord Ainz told me, told all the Guardians that failure would no longer be tolerated. That we must always focus on our tasks, so that we may be able to succeed in them, and prove to our lord that we are worthy of receiving his love. If you go back now, you will be disobeying a direct order from the master, and he would be greatly disappointed in you. Enough, even, to lose interest in you."

"Impossible," Shalltear said. "I have-"

"-No chance at all whatsoever, if you return now, and the lord becomes angry with you. Then you will prove Albedo's words right, and Lord Ainz will be well-justified to refuse to give his love to you."

"No! Y-you're lying," Shalltear cried. Her ferocious rancor had faded, and now she looked like she were about to cry. However, Solution was merciless, as if she were facing someone in battle.

"I have never been known to say lies. And you should be aware of this yourself, my lady. Logically, what sort of person would lavish love on a failure?"

Shalltear finally let go of her. The vampire stumbled back, eyes wide, as if she had been stunned by Solution's words. She collapsed back into the arms of her loyal vampire ladies. "But then... Then what should I do...?"

"Do what I'm going to do. Commit yourself to the task the lord had given you. Take all that rage, that frustration, all the energy and devote it to accomplishing the lord's commands. If you're able to do such a good job, then surely his eyes can't help but be drawn to you, my lady."

For a moment, Shalltear just sat there listlessly. Then she scoffed, and adjusted her dress, before she pushed the vampire ladies away. She puffed out her chest. "O-of course I knew all that. I don't need a maid to tell me what I already know. Ko-hon! Sebas, please continue as you were." A small, soft smile appeared on the vampire's face as she returned to her space between the vampire ladies. "I shall never be a failure, no matter what that gorilla thinks. Every dog has their day, and that bitch is no different. Very well, very well. I shall show to Lord Ainz that I am worthy of the trust he has placed in me."

"Very good, Lady Shalltear," Sebas Tian said, and though his face wouldn't show it, he seemed to be partly relieved that the vampire had backed down. He glanced at Solution, who said nothing more, before he turned crisply and closed the carriage door.

Moments later, the carriage trundled onward, its occupants filled with a new, fierce determination. Solution herself looked forward to being praised and rewarded by the Master once she was done, so not all of what she'd said to Shalltear had been empty words. It was up to the vampire now; and Solution didn't care whether she failed or not-she was out for her own sake now, and she would definitely get hers in the end, no matter what.


All of Ninya's muscles sang to her of their collective agony when she turned in for the night. The training session with Nabe had been very grueling, with her new teacher mercilessly drilling into her the need to become proficient with the staff. In the end, she didn't even know if she'd actually become better than she'd been at the start. Too much time falling on her ass and getting her body slapped by Nabe's stave had turned everything into a sort of blur towards the end of it, and the only thing she recalled was the long trek back to Carne Village, and back towards her home.

Some nosy villagers had asked about her. They knew what had happened, as they'd spotted her sparring for the whole day with Nabe in the distance. Of course, she couldn't just complain about it and ask for succor; who knew if Nabe had spies or informants among these simple villagers?

But she did accept an herb-filled poultice from someone named Enri, who said that it would help with sore or torn muscles. She recalled Dyne giving her things like that before, especially during a particularly grueling mission. She accepted that gladly and went on her way. The pounding in her head made it clear she needed to be home as soon as possible. It was exactly the sort of thing which Peter and Lukeluther warned her about-she could already hear their voices in her head, lecturing her about the proper ways of resting.

She had to admit, that girl brewed a good poultice. Fragrant oily liquid dripped from the surface, making it an excellent makeshift bath. Ninya could already feel her body respond-though the aches and pains remained, at least they became somewhat muted in the background, something bearable.

It didn't help with the pounding headaches of course. For that, she needed to sleep. And sleep she did, collapsing on top of her fluffy bed without further ado. It didn't take long for her to be carried into vague dreams, as she let the stress of the day just melt away.

After a fitful night of sleep, Ninya woke to a strange feeling. She felt like there was something in the room watching her. She opened her eyes, and quickly grabbed her staff from the side of the bed.

She gasped when she saw what stood there in her room, watching her. It was kind of short, right about her size. It wore a peculiar looking dark helmet, like something soldiers wore in battle. Around its neck a long, thin, trailing red cape hung over its back. Its leather armor was black and grey in color, with gloves and boots colored pitch black. Aside from the cape it was shrouded entirely in black, almost making it blend in seamlessly within the shadows of the dim room.

"Wh-who are you?" Ninya asked, frightfully. She'd already had enough of feminine figures appearing from within the shadows to last her for a lifetime.

"I have been designated as-my pardons. I am now designated by the name, 'Cynthia'." The woman spoke in a flat, deadpan voice, like she were reading loudly from a piece of paper.

Ninya swallowed. "Wh-what are you- why are you here?"

"Nabe has been given orders by the master. Therefore, she has entrusted your training for the day to me."

Was this one an associate of Momon, then? Another mysterious warrior from a distant land? "To you...? Are you a magic caster then?"

"...No. I am a-it is not important to the matter at hand. I cannot use this well," From behind her back Cynthia drew a great bow, which she nocked with a barb-tipped arrow. "But I am reasonably sure I can still hit you. Today you will practice your own magic against me, or so Nabe says, and I shall acquiesce with the request. You will do all in your power to not be hit by me, or..."

"Or...?"

The warrior cocked its head. "Or you will die," it said simply.

Oh, gods. Ninya could already feel the renewed throbbing in her muscles, but as this was Nabe's associate, she had no choice but to comply.

Wait for me, sister, she thought, as she moved out of the bed to comply.


Bereft of pride and animation, Clementine hung listlessly from the ceiling, the chains biting deep into her bleeding wrists. Her naked form was a pathetic sight, surely nothing that would excite anyone. Bruises and pus-filled wounds ran down all over her pale, emaciated skin. An ungodly scent persisted in filling her nose, her own combined wastes and discharges collecting on the floor beneath her over time-deliberately left uncleaned-which made her throat lock up from sheer repugnance.

And it seemed her body especially would not entice any of these monsters. At first, she'd been sure to be raped, again and again, perhaps abused to the point of becoming some lifeless doll. But no, they had been monsters through and through, and she suspected they saw sex with her as something fundamentally repulsive. She had an inkling on that when the grotesque tentacled woman had called in some of her subordinates to torture her: big orc-looking brutes with bulging muscles, and yet they seemed to treat her like something that would infect them if they handled her incorrectly. It was honestly amusing to watch, were it not for the fact that they'd started in on torturing her as their boss demanded. And towards the end, she just became a doll-like existence anyway.

It had been her own mistakes at the onset, when she'd just assumed that these guys were like any other secret organization she'd associated with in the past. Yet these guys took "monstrous" to a literal level. All her past experiences under the torturers' sadistic tongs, all those days spent in interrogation rooms, with only her mind for company; all those paled in comparison to what these monsters could dish out. And it was just her fucking luck that she was forced to see it all first hand, instead of being one of the torturers herself.

After the initial bout of pain which had worked to inure her against what she thought would be the extent of their regimen, she'd made the mistake of spitting into the face of the one being she thought would be their leader. And yet, instead of being insulted, crumbling into helpless outrage like every other person she'd done that to, the calm shapeshifter fuck had turned it right around back at her, and had suffocated her with some sort of slime ball. She quickly fell to unconsciousness, with the bastard's face being the last thing she saw before the darkness took her.

When she came back to, and the fucker had disappeared, she saw that her good friend miss fat ugly torturer had grown quite a bit angrier with her. A little too much, it seemed, as she was about to find out.

"You dared insult the Master, to his face, in front of me?" the mutant raved, its grotesque tentacles quivering in full-blown outrage. "The Master may have decided to spare your pathetic life, worm, but that does not make you safe from me."

"You... won't... kill me..." Clementine said, through a mouthful of blood. "Haahh... haaah... Your master... said so..."

"No," the monster said, conceding. Its pale flesh was like a dead sea-creature's. "But he did not specify on how you were to 'live'. And that, my conceited little fool, covers an exciting array of possibilities, doesn't it? I can even have you sing to me from the very edge of death, though you will never die, no matter how much you might beg for its sweet release. You will tell me what the Master needs to know, whether you like it or not."

Clementine scoffed. "So you do not believe," said her torturer. It shrugged. "Very well. It is not as if anyone here will care for your comfort at all." There came a knock at the door. "Ah. Welcome, gentlemen. Come in, come in. Did you bring the artifact I requested...? Good. Very good. Now we may begin."

Clementine's smile faded, when she saw the strange objects that had now been arrayed on the table around her. "More toys?" she asked tauntingly. "Oh... what a thrill..."

"Yes. Toys." said the torturer. She lifted one object, which made a strange squeaking sound, like a goblin being tickled to death. "Our Creators had minds much more twisted than ours, too much for even your feeble brain to comprehend." It paused. "If you've a mind to sing, do it now. I've heard you humans have 'vocal cords' of sorts that need to be intact to do the actual singing... Ahhh... how tedious... They didn't even give me a budget for a few heal wands." The creature shrugged. "This will have to do. Now, human, open up."

She struggled. Oh, she struggled. Every fiber of will she could muster. Every last drop of defiance. She rallied against the pain, the fear, the despair.

In the end, these bastards were on a whole other level. It was like she was a little girl again, and the big nasty adults were doing bad things to her, and there was nothing she could do but cry.

She tried hard to forget about the things its minions did to her. She knew people who would be delighted to learn torturing techniques under these bastards. She only wished she was one of the people who was learning, and not the one being tested instead. She recalled the smell of rusted iron, the feel of tiny, skittering legs on skin, the taste of something foul and unforgettable on her tongue, and the sensation of being ripped apart and put together and then ripped apart-again and again and fucking again.

In the end, she bared it all, like a wound bleeding profusely without end. That mental image had once been a delight-and yet now it was a reminder of what she'd undergone. Broken completely, she revealed everything she knew, like a dam broken and unloading all that she'd tried so hard to withhold.

Because why the fuck would she? She owed nothing to those guys. In the end, why had she even tried so hard to keep the secret?

She spoke of what she remembered of the Slaine Theocracy, of their sacred mission to safeguard all of humanity, through the use of ancient, powerful artifacts passed down to them. She spoke of the god-kind, beings descended from a cross-breed between humans, and a race called "Players", who could use these artifacts with ease.

She spoke of the Black Scripture, the Theocracy's most powerful cadre of warriors. She spoke of the membership before she'd left-of Certain Death, who'd led them, and of all the others. She spoke freely of any abilities they had, which she had gleaned from observing them for a short period, at a time when she'd been planning to overthrow them all, even Certain Death.

She spoke of her own humiliating circumstances, of being driven out from the Theocracy, of finding solace in the rampant killing, of her travelling through the many pits and cesspools of society, seeking bargains and performing jobs just to stay alive, even leveraging her beauty at times. She spoke of her desire to hunt adventurers, to cut their miserable lives short, stamping them out before they could grow to the likes of Blue Rose, whom she detested.

Clementine bled out everything she knew, and her tormentors squeezed her like a plump fruit for for every last drop of juice she had inside her. Eventually, she reached the limit of what she could give. She could only babble out weak nonsense words, and breathed out threats and insults in a hoarse voice.

And now back to the present, with Clementine hanging pathetically from the chain that held her up. By this point, the sore pain coursing through all her muscles had faded to a morose buzzing sensation in the back of her mind. She was hungry, she was thirsty, but she sure wasn't dead yet. She'd bitten her tongue several times-only for the wound to be healed all too quickly by her tormentors. For some unknown reason she was still kept alive for the whims of some shapeshifting megalomaniac.

Her train of thought were interrupted when the door clanged open. Clementine peered through dull, slick hair as that flopping, pale fatass lumbered in. Behind it was something she hadn't seen before.

They looked to be a pair of undead monstrosities, skeletal, emaciated figures garbed in full plate armor. They followed the grotesque creature inside.

The grotesque stared at her in silence for quite a long moment. The silence unnerved her so much she spat out a dried gob of her spit and cried, "What? What more do you fucking want from me? I've told you everything I know! Haah... Haah... There's nothing else..." Tears streamed down her cheeks. The chains above her jingled as she moved. "... There's nothing else I can tell you, you bastards! You won, okay? You won, you got what you needed! I got nothing! Nothing! Please!"

It galled her to have to beg so pathetically like this, but she could not handle yet another one of those accursed "sessions". No! Never!

"It pleases me to see you so pliable now, little worm. Hrm... It was a good idea to send for a consult from my comrades... They certainly helped to break in that stubbornness of yours... Hrm... Hrm..." The creature paced the room, eyeing her like like a piece of meat. "I must admit... your value to the Master has already fallen far, now that you're all used up... There really is no point to keeping you around anymore, hrm? Especially since you insulted the Master. Hehehe... It'd be better to carve you up, and spread you around to all my darling friends who consulted with me, hrm? Little tokens of gratitude, frittered away to remember you by. Your eyes here, your head there, your torso to him, your limbs to them. Won't that just be lovely?"

It made a smacking sound, almost like it were disappointed. "But it seems the Master still has plans for you, so rejoice." It snapped a finger. "Take her away, gentlemen. No need to be gentle, hrm? Just don't kill her."

Clementine could only watch in a daze as the undead relieved her of her chains, then grabbed her arms roughly to hoist her up between them.

"Goodbye now... I do hope my lord relents and sends you back here to me... Oh, I shall certainly be prepared for it!"

The creature's cackles reverberated throughout the hallway behind her as she was taken away.

After what seemed like an eternity, she felt her body being thrown to the ground. It was soft, like a carpet's surface.

"Hmmm..." came a voice. It sounded familiar, though she could not match a face to it. "She's bleeding all over the carpet, you dolts! Does that idiot not know the need for propriety? Now it'll need a lot of cleaning by the maids."

"Never mind that, milady. We're happy to serve."

"Albedo, pass this over to them."

"... Very well, my lord Ainz."

After a long beat of silence, she was hoisted up by her hair, making her eyes water. Something cold was thrust to her lips, and then a thin bony hand pulled her chin all the way down. Then she tasted warm liquid being poured down her throat, which she eagerly lapped up with her parched tongue. As the liquid burned its way down to her gut, she felt a soothing warmth fill her. It brought back life to her, even if a little, made the wounds sting a little less, made the muscles a bit relaxed.

It was enough for her to open her eyes and see.

That shapeshifting fucker was now sitting in the gaudiest throne ever. There was a strangely dressed woman beside him, and behind them were numerous people in maid's outfits. The former glared at her like she were a dog that had gone and pooped on her doorstep. Ah, she thought. Was this the woman who...?

"I see you have recovered sufficiently, Clementine," came the fucker's voice. "I have had you brought here, because I thought you might be amenable to a new type of arrangement. Should you refuse, well... you're more than welcome to die. Would you stay, and listen?"


One week later, at E-Rantel, intrigue was afoot. The location was the city's trade and guild district, where rows of warehouses and storage buildings contained numerous supplies for the Kingdom's use. Many, of course, belonged to noble-owned companies and ventures, but some merchants from both local and foreign lands also held control of a number. One such warehouse was of interest to a trio of hooded figures lurking in the shadow of a building right across from it.

As the midday sun moved, two figures emerged from behind the warehouse, and blended into the moving shadows.

"They're here," one of the trio announced. A few moments later, the two figures materialized in front of them, their forms shimmering as the invisibility spell dissipated from their bodies. They were the twin ninjas, Tia and Tina, newly returned from reconaissance.

"Well?" Gagaran, the largest figure present, demanded. "Does it check out?"

Tia nodded silently, while Tina lowered the scarf on her mouth. She said, "It doesn't take a dog to be able to tell that the whole place reeks of the black drug. The whole place is filled with boxes of those things. I'm guessing they're newly processed, and only waiting to be shipped out."

"Damn. So that company really is corrupt. And isn't it sponsored by one of the dukes?" Gagaran wondered. They all looked to Lakyus, their leader, who was a noblewoman herself.

The blonde shrugged, her face resigned. "It is merely the symptom of a far greater problem. Regardless of their status, this is still a confirmed warehouse belonging to the pestilential Eight Fingers. That duke's name goes on the Princess's list, while we take care of the wetwork down here."

"Sounds good," Tia said, adjusting the straps on her gloves. "We're ready to begin at your word. We've identified the right corners where a nice little blaze will take care of the whole merchandise. Then, as planned, Evileye will come in to take care of the fire." The diminutive figure, who'd hitherto remained silent, nodded.

"Well, Lakyus?" Gagaran asked. "Is it a go?"

Their leader seemed to have a difficult expression on her face, as she gazed at the warehouse, like it were some sort of mathematical equation that could never be solved. She fingered the ring on her finger, a gift which had really helped her.

No longer had the sinister whispers of the cursed sword that was slung on her back troubled her. Her dreams were empty of the occasional black nightmares, where she waded through a miasma of inky despair. It was no longer a struggle to keep the thing close, as her mind seemed to have been shielded from its influence, thanks to the enchantment on the ring.

It was a gift from Momon, but it had been given to her by someone fairer and much more strong and elegant.

She sighed again, then turned to see that all her team-mates were staring at her. Gagaran, in particular, had a shit-eating grin on her face.

"Damn it girl," she said, "The two of you've got to be a whole lot more normal when it comes to setting up a rendezvous. I mean, both of you are adamantite rank and all, but that doesn't mean you can only meet up for a date in a godawful place like this. Like, seriously, leader, there are all sorts of better places to go on dates-"

"A date?" Lakyus looked outrage. "Gagaran, you idiot! It's nothing as frivolous as that!"

"Then should we start the plan already?" Evileye asked, sounding like she was supremely bored with the whole situation.

"Ehhh... Ummm..." This time, Lakyus did look flushed. She even peeked over the corner, her eyes narrowing as if she were waiting for something. Or someone. "... Perhaps... We can certainly... *ahem*. We can wait. It does not look like any of the Eight Fingers' minions are here to start distribution. It's a good day, good wind, good sun, clear blue sky, so why don't we-"

Tia and Tina looked at each other, Gagaran snickered, while Evileye rocked back on her heels and rubbed the skin behind her mask tiredly.

It was an open secret-though Lakyus would ever dispute that hotly-that the recent piece of info that had pointed them to this particular Eight Finger warehouse must have genuinely come from Amelia, of the team Eclipse Nebula. Amelia was a person for whom their leader held more than a passing attraction, and that showed in the almost maiden-like excitement she exuded when she commanded Blue Rose to investigate the warehouse.

Now the results were very apparent to see: today her armor had been polished to a blinding, golden sheen, and her cursed blade prepped like an over-sized letter opener. If one disregarded the notion that this was equipment for use by an all-star adventurer, one could rightly say that it had been prepared for a high-class rendezvous instead of its usual function. And it seemed that their leader wasn't aware she was even doing it.

Lakyus had looked forward to the meeting for a full week. For the first time since they'd known their leader she had visited several high-class salons and beauty shops to look her best. Tina could swear she'd tailed the leader to a fortune-teller, whereas Tia also claimed Lakyus had visited the lingerie section of a famous boutique at the capital city. And so the picture was clear, and it seemed it was only Lakyus who hotly denied it.

They could see what attracted the noblewoman: from the little they saw of that Amelia, she exuded just the right amount of finesse and confidence, combined with her otherworldly beauty and presence, to be able to lift the veil from their leader's eyes. This Lakyus, who only respected the strong, and was never attracted to strength in itself; who appreciated beauty, in herself and others, and yet did not merit it a vital quality-their leader had seemingly found the right mix of qualities that hit (figuratively) all her weak spots.

"If we're really supposed to meet with those guys," Gagaran then said. "That means they've got good reasons for being late."

"Oh, and that is?" Lakyus asked. The rest of the group, who could already tell where this was going, sighed to themselves.

Gagarain's smile turned raunchy and suggestive. "After all, their leader's that Momon, right? Guy that strong and massive, it must take a really good woman, or a harem of average ones, just to satisfy him. For all we know the guy could be doing a quickie right this moment, whether it's that Nabe, or-"

"That's impossible!" Lakyus suddenly shouted, her face pinking. "She would never do that! She's just his retainer, nothing more!"

A long silence followed, as the members of Blue Rose stared, blinking, at their leader. Slowly, they began to look at each other.

"Should I tell her?" Tina asked drily.

"No, no, leave it to me," Gagaran said, rubbing her forehead, as if she were feeling an oncoming headache. "Times like these needs someone with an experienced hand."

"Um... I can't tell if you're trying to insult me or..." Tina said.

The tall, muscular warrior puffed her chest up and adopted the manner of a woman wise with the ways of the world. "Listen here, Lakyus. I'm happy-we're happy for you that you've managed to find someone nice. It's cute to watch, it's nice that there's an innocent girl's spirit behind that implacable steel. But wake up, girl! Human relationships are rarely as simple as one plus one equals two! There's lots of bullshit nuances and subtleties that make up any sort of prospective relationship. And I'm-well, we're just telling you this because we care for you, leader, and for now we say: please don't get your hopes up."

"Ohhhh. By the gods' assholes..." Evileye turned to the nearby wall and smashed her mask onto it.

Lakyus looked like she was about to explode into something greatly unreasonable, her face turning into a bright red tomato. Then she drew herself up, and for a moment they were able to see Lakyus as she was, as she should have been: a noblewoman of excellent pedigree, her face now a mask of calm. Now she even spoke in such a manner.

"I must admit to be looking quite unsightly in your eyes, my comrades. I apologize for that. However, it cannot be understated that Eclipse Nebula has been an excellent boon: not just for the kingdom, but also for us, personally."

"Oh really? And what-" Gagaran's slight rap on Evileye's head silenced her.

"For example: this." Lakyus showed off the ring on her finger. "The good sir Momon has been generous enough to give this to me."

"Ummm... what, is that an engagement ring or something...?" Gagaran asked, with a scrunched face.

"Fools!" Lakyus shouted, making them near jump back from shock. "Do you not realize how important this boon has become? Without asking for anything in return, they have helped me immensely! This sword, whose nature I cannot reveal to you completely, has been muzzled of its sinister influence; and it is all thanks to this ring! So please, I'd like for you all to think very carefully before disparaging a fellow adventurer like ourselves."

"Well, it wasn't like we were really 'disparaging' them or anything," Tia muttered.

"Oi, oi, don't rile her up any more..." Gagaran sad in an equally low voice.

It was Evileye who seemed more interested in what Lakyus had said. "So you're saying that ring can suppress even strong curses? Are you sure it doesn't carry its own enchantment, leader? I'd hate to have to pick up after you because that 'gift' ended up becoming something bad."

Lakyus' eyes grew cold. "There is a need to be cautious, of course; but there is also no need to always be suspicious of every single thing. I trust Amelia, and Lord Momon, and all of Eclipse Nebula-"

"Oh, there they are. Ahoy there, Blue Rose!" came Amelia's voice.

"Amelia...? Amelia! Oh hi!" Their leader, upon hearing the newcomer's voice, instantly dropped her lecturing act and turned, bouncing on her feet, towards the source. She waved up and down, like an excited schoolgirl, as the silver-haired woman approached, her beauty apparent even from a distance.

Behind her loomed the tall, overbearing presence of sir Momon, the Dark Knight, his armor gleaming in the midday light. Shadowing him was the Beautiful Princess, Nabe, her face as stoic as they all remembered.

And then, there was another person behind them. It was clear from the way the person trailed after the group that she belonged to them, and was not just a bystander.

It wore tight-fitting leather armor, which proudly displayed its sizable assets to the whole world; it wore black, skintight trousers that accentuated its shapely, athletic legs; its belt wrapped around its slender waist snugly; upon its arms were gauntlets with serrated spikes along the edge; and then, like Evileye it wore a red, threadbare scarf around its neck, which trailed behind it in the wind. It was red-haired, like Amelia, though unlike the latter its hair was styled in a short bob. The face was stoic as the one walking in front, and yet they could sense there was a definite aura of menace around it, barely held in check.

"Good day to you, and well met, Blue Rose," Amelia proclaimed in a whispery, throaty voice. They did not fail to notice that something seemed to have changed with the woman's demeanor, as if she were privy to a secret that only she alone knew and would not share with anyone else. "Before we begin in earnest, I would just like to introduce an acquaintance of lord Momon's. This is Yuki."


Yet another commission by anonymous.

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