I do not own Overlord and its characters.

Defeat.

It was a foreign word to the Insect Warrior Tarybdis. Never before had he been in a situation where his own strength, and that of his comrades-in-arms, had not been enough to attain victory. And yet, that word now was caught in the back of his throat; in fact, it was on the tip of his tongue. Granted, most of his previous battles had been fought with the wielder of the God Slaying Emperor Blade, Cocytus, at his back. This fact did nothing to quell the frustration that was building up within the normally calm and reserved insectoid.

The Undercity recruits had managed to trace their steps back to where the legion had encountered the enemy demon lord Ashme. From there, they had advanced in the direction that opposing force had come from, until they stood before what was evidently the fortress of the devil Malekor.

Waiting for them was a military formation of over 9,000 demons.

Even when they realized that Malekor had three of his legions available to him, and had fielded them all, the demons loyal to the Sorcerer Kingdom did not back down. After all, most of them had been born in the last 30 years, during the time that the prosperity brought to them by their 41 gods had allowed for such an unprecedented surge in the demonic population. As a result, their loyalty was among the highest of all the subjugated races of the world, perhaps second only to the highly-favored lizardmen.

Unfortunately, the grim reality was that loyalty alone did not win battles. Outnumbered, and facing a foe boasting superior strength, numbers, equipment, and training, the Undercity demons had little chance of winning from the start. Still, they fought with tooth and claw, pushing their bodies to the limits to drag down that one extra enemy with them into death.

Now just half an hour into the battle, Tarybdis and Alastor were already fully surrounded, fighting back-to-back with a small cluster of other surviving demons. A few other pockets of New World demons were scattered throughout the battlefield, similarly surrounded. None of them were faring very well.

Another factor that couldn't be ignored was the degree to which Malekor's demons were emboldened by his [Domain]. That devil himself had arrived with Ashme and the three remaining commanders at his side to personally oversee the battle. The fact that his fortress was built on a small hill - most likely sculpted into the utterly flat land by the ancient demons of old - not only gave the defending legions a tactical advantage, but gave their commanders a decent vantage point for making strategic decisions. Unlike Ashme, who rose to his position through sheer strength and spellcasting power, these other three were much weaker, but had sound military minds.

The effects of Malekor's [Domain] were unmistakeable. Tarybdis reflected upon this bitterly as he embedded his spear into the meaty arm of a large brute assaulting him, only for it to keep throwing blows at him with its other arm - seemingly unaffected by any pain whatsoever.

Clicking his mandibles in frustration, Tarybdis twisted his weapon as he dodged yet another wild punch. "Alastor, go for the throat!"

From his side, the demonkin launched himself at the fleshy hulk and sunk both of his claws into the side of its exposed neck. Amazingly, it still had fight left within it. With its functional arm, the large demon grabbed Alastor and threw him onto the ground. He hastily rolled out of the way as its foot came down a second later where his body had been.

The brute took one more unsteady step, before looking at Tarybdis in confusion as its eyes slowly rolled back and it collapsed in a heap. There was no time to celebrate, as another one of Malekor's demons immediately took its place.

During that quick bout, the circle of New Worlders had gotten even smaller. One demon had swiped with all of its might, only to miss the mark and lose its balance. It had been swiftly pulled out of the formation and ripped asunder. Another had stumbled after being cut below the knee. This had similarly spelled its end.

For each demon loyal to the 41 Supreme Beings that Tarybdis saw dead or dying, he cursed the inhabitants of this realm. To his right, one of the last surviving imps had its agility fail it, and was brutally crushed in the hands of the enemy. The Insect Warrior channeled his rage into the arm that held his spear, driving it through the head of his newest opponent.

Unlike many of his kind, Tarybdis respected and cared for the Undercity demons. This attitude was one he had adopted after some time spent assigned as part of Cocytus' personal guard. Being in such close proximity to the personal creation of his patron, Lord Warrior Takemikazuchi, had taught the insectoid that this particular floor guardian respected others if they possessed honor and a warrior's spirit, regardless of their strength.

And so, when Tarybdis had participated in the subjugation of the demon tribes all those years ago, he couldn't help admiring their stubborn resolve. At the time, they were a downtrodden race. As old servants of the Evil Deities, the subterranean demons led by the demon lords were terrifying forces of destruction; by New World standards they were nearly the most powerful race in the world. However, they had been humiliated and defeated by the dragons and driven underground.

Despite this all, the demons had refused to give up, and continued scraping by with their stomachs empty and their pride broken. Even in this humble state, they had fought valiantly against Cocytus even though they were perceptive enough to realize the warrior's insurmountable power. Their surrender had also been honorable, and dignified. For these qualities Tarybdis, like his commander, respected the demons.

At this moment Alastor had collapsed, finally succumbing to his many injuries. Tarybdis bravely stood in front of his friend, parrying and attacking ferociously in order to pull twice his weight and defend the both of them. If there was a single demon he did not want to see dying, it would be this one, and he fought his heart out to try to preserve the increasingly impossible reality in which they both survived.

The mere desire to ascend to Nazarick was not in itself what drew Tarybdis to the demonkin whose life he now defended. Many dreamed of Ascension, but not all of them tempered their ambition with calm logic. Alastor had chosen not to throw himself into adventuring in a quest to obtain soul shards, in order to help contribute to his city and support his surviving family. This was something Tarybdis admired, and actually thought improved his friend's chances of eventually ascending.

As one of what was referred to as a "mercenary summon" in the language of the Supreme Beings, the Insect Warrior was privy to a little inside knowledge when it came to the workings of Nazarick. While the factors taken into consideration when granting a New Worlder ascension had been publicly announced, what most did not know was the priority given.

For example, simple strength was valued very little by the Supreme Beings, since they could theoretically take a level 1 human farm girl and metamorphose her into a level 100 heteromorph if they so desired. Unique and rare talents or traits on the other hand, seemed to be coveted by Nazarick. There were some with connections to Nazarick who, although they had not ascended, had been granted extended youths, all of whom possessed rare abilities. It was very likely in Tarybdis' mind that this meant they were being preserved for future ascension.

Then there was a hidden factor that Tarybdis knew of. This was having an attitude suitable for a servant of the Supreme Beings. Despite being a vague requirement, this was one thing which Tarybdis was confident that Alastor genuinely possessed. His demonic friend was faithful in his duties to his country, mindful of the hierarchy within the kingdom, and pious in his devotion to his patron Supreme Being, the Sorcerer King, and the remaining supreme ones.

This, combined with the fact that Alastor worked with the naturally-spawned elder lich that had been adopted by the Undercity as its resident alchemist, placed the demonkin in a position in Tarybdis' mind where it was far more likely he would attain ascension than the insectoid himself. Knowledge of subterranean reagents and their properties could be considered valuable by the Supreme Beings after all. For this reason, Tarybdis couldn't afford to let him die here and have his potential by so cruelly cut short.

Yet, in the face of this firm resolve was the looming inevitability of the situation. They were on the brink of defeat. Without being able to find time to drag the limp body of Alastor back, Tarybdis was slowly finding himself becoming more exposed as the grouping of Undercity demons fighting for their lives dwindled further.

Just as all seemed lost and Tarybdis' focus began to waver, allowing for attacks to breach his defenses and land hits on his carapace, he felt a presence behind him. Having been separated from all others for a few moments at this point, he assumed he had finally been completely surrounded, and silently despaired. What happened next surprised him.

Marching almost mechanically around him, an undead soldier stoically raised its shield and took the blow that had been meant for Tarybdis. It did not fare well from the hit, as its skeletal arm shattered behind its shield. However, as was the nature of most undead, such a loss did not affect it in the slightest, and it simply swung the sword in its remaining hand, leaving a long slash in the body of the enemy demon.

More and more undead continued to march around Alastor and Tarybdis, engaging the confused enemy without hesitation. Most of the first wave of undead were low-tier summons, and could not stand up to Malekor's legionnaires in a one-on-one battle, but they seemed to arrive in endless waves that steadily pushed the demons back and gave the Undercity survivor's some space to breathe.

Crouching down to tend to his friend, Tarybdis shook Alastor.

"Alastor. Get up. Something has happened," he said gently.

"Ughh…" the half-demon groaned, weakly lifting his head. "What? This is…"

"An army of Nazarick," Tarybdis finished the sentence for his comrade.

"Here?" Alastor's voice was hoarse.

The mid-tier undead had arrived in the meantime. A battalion of Death Knights and other undead of equal caliber wove around the exhausted New World demons with the ease of a river flowing around rocks. In the sky, Skeletal Dragons roared their otherworldly battle calls.

Malekor's legions, who had just begun to push back against the weaker undead, found themselves once more surprised by enemies that had seemingly come out of nowhere. Indeed, the undead army had concealed itself under a thick fog. In the conditions with already poor visibility caused by red dust kicked into the air by the fighting, neither side of demons had noticed its approach.

However, despite the newfound advantage the undead enjoyed, the demons were still a tough enemy. Even Death Knights, which were a walking symbol of invulnerability in the New World, could be whittled down and destroyed through the concentrated efforts of the strongest in Malekor's legions.

Seeing the undead - which Tarybdis had concluded must have been summons of the Sorcerer King himself, or another similar necromancer from Nazarick - take losses was something which ignited a desire to join the front lines once again. However, Alastor was in no condition to continue fighting.

Internally, the insectoid cursed his bad fortune. This was not how things were meant to be! Lesser servants were supposed to protect and defend greater servants, not the other way around! For having his life saved by an army personally summoned by Nazarick, he felt ashamed.

As if in response to this hidden strife, a demon approached Tarybdis. It was the veteran officer, another being born from the gold of the Supreme Beings like him. The demon was carrying a pouch of healing potions with him.

Handing two of the vials to Tarybdis, the demon grunted, "Here. For you and the one on the ground."

Examining the potions, Tarybdis saw that they were red like the potions only given to the most accomplished of adventurers. The flask containing the liquid was made of precious crystal. Such extravagance could only mean…

"Where did you get these potions from?"

"...I was told not to tell you. Use them and get back in the fight now."

The keen-eyed insectoid noticed the demon's eyes flick to the side as it brushed off the question. Looking behind it, Tarybdis beheld a great shape in the distance. A giant, with the same shape of head as his own patron Supreme Being. But it was not to be mistaken as Warrior Takemikazuchi, for the massive gauntlets it wore gave away the identity of the distant silhouette.

Wasting no time, Tarybdis took a small sip from one vial before splashing both health potions on Alastor. It was common knowledge among warriors and adventurers that potions did not need to be ingested in order to fulfill their purpose, and Tarybdis needed his friend on his feet as soon as possible. There was no doubt as to where the potions had come from: the personal stores of a Supreme Being. While other servants would balk at using or even accepting something like this, the pragmatic disciple of Warrior Takemikazuchi had some understanding of the fact that the Supreme Beings themselves tired of this behavior and wished for their underlings to accept their generosity. The appropriate thing to do was to make use of their gifts in a way that would result in better serving their aims.

The health potions' effects were immediate. Within seconds, Alastor's wounds were closing themselves, and he rose to his feet with renewed vigor.

"Look," Tarybdis said, directing his companion's attention to the towering figure he had already identified as one of the 41: Yamaiko.

The mist which had shrouded the undead as they made their initial entry into the battle was starting to disperse, and the two were able to get a clearer view of the Supreme Being's, whose tall stature allowed her to stand out even when surrounded by undead forces.

"That's…" Alastor started to say, before he too identified the giant. He bowed his head in shame, and Tarybdis understood what he was thinking, having had similar thoughts recently. "What good am I as a servant? To have been saved twice by the Supreme Beings. That they have stooped down to tend to the matters of us lowly vassals… it is unthinkable."

"We must atone for our shortcomings through war. Come, Alastor, to the front lines!" Although he agreed with his friend's sentiments, Tarybdis felt it was his place to encourage the demonkin.

There was one small problem: the undead were in a tight formation, though they had parted around the demons. For Alastor and Tarybdis, making their way through the ranks of undead would be a time-consuming endeavor.

"Get on my back."

It was Alastor, speaking with confidence that belied his inexperience. He was extending his wings in such a way that there was an open space for another to mount on.

"Do you have the strength to carry me?"

"...I don't know. But I have to try."

There was no way Tarybdis could refuse in the face of such steeled determination. Gingerly, the insectoid placed all six of his limbs on the demonkin. There was no need to grab onto anything, since all of his appendages had adhesive properties like that of an actual insect.

Alastor began to beat his wings with resolve, slowly increasing the tempo. At first, nothing happened, but after a while the two started gaining altitude with the pace of a snail. With a roar, Alastor pushed himself to the limit, and finally achieved the force needed to accelerate into the air.

From this new vantage point, Tarybdis could see that from the battle, a neatly defined border of conflict had emerged. This sort of emergent organization was due to the fact that the now-defending demons were formidable enough to hold their own against the undead onslaught. For the first time, Tarybdis could clearly see the enemy devil, Malekor himself. He was about to urge Alastor to take them to the front when something on the periphery caught his attention.

What appeared to be a cloud of red dust was rapidly approaching from behind. This could be bad. If it was a hostile power, it was much closer to being able to directly threaten Yamaiko than Malekor's demons.

"Alastor, look over there!"

There was barely any time for Alastor to even process the phenomenon he was seeing before it had already reached the undead rearguard. Inconceivably, the undead began to split, providing a clear opening between the new arrival and Lady Yamaiko.

When the dust cleared, Tarybdis beheld the most spectacular gathering of warriors that he had ever witnessed.

Albedo, the Guardian Overseer; Shalltear Bloodfallen, Nazarick's first line of defense; Cocytus, Ruler of the Frozen Glacier - no less than three beings of mythic quality were now making their way through the undead to where Yamaiko was. And with them… Tarybdis' heart, which maintained the flow of hemolymph in his body, stirred in excitement. It was his patron Supreme Being, the one god he had pledged his body and soul to: Lord Warrior Takemikazuchi.

It wasn't long before the warrior god and his party had reached his fellow Nephilim. Albedo was leading them, and while they had slowed their speed slightly from the sandstorm-inducing one from before, they still closed the distance in a flash. Takemikazuchi seemed to be following along in good spirits, not bothered in the slightest by the blistering speed the guardian overseer was setting as their pace.

For Alastor, maintaining altitude while carrying Tarybdis was an objectively difficult proposition. However, he too was entranced by the arrival of the legendary entities below. From this angle, it was also possible to see the ones immediately surrounding Yamaiko. When he identified them, Alastor nearly fell out of the sky.

Yet another Supreme Being, Herohero, exuded a black presence from Yamaiko's side that seemed to eat into the red of the Demonic Plane. And standing faithfully by their sides were two who Alastor easily identified even though he had never seen them before: Yuri Alpha and Solution Epsilon of the Pleiades Battle Maids - favored servants of the Supreme Beings.

Albedo seemed to be having a conversation with Yamaiko. With the sound of air being displaced by wings filling their ears, neither Alastor nor Tarybdis could hear even a little of what was being said. All they could see was Yamaiko shaking her head as if to deny something, followed by Albedo beginning to tremble violently.

Then, the world exploded.

At least, it had felt like that. Whereas before he had managed to keep his wits about him, Alastor had literally fallen out of the sky when a wave of indiscriminate killing intent crashed into him, blinding all of his senses through its sheer potency.

"Alastor!" Tarybdis shouted in panic.

Miraculously, the winged half-demon managed to catch himself, and the two once more began to gain altitude, albeit rather unsteadily. What they witnessed next was, in the purest and simplest of terms, awesome.

With the synchrony and precision of a symphony orchestra following its conductor, the undead army split in two and began to circle back, leaving a clear path between the Supreme Being with the floor guardians and Malekor's legions. Now that they had lost some altitude, Alastor and Tarybdis could hear Shalltear shouting, "don't be hasty!" In the next moment, Albedo had disappeared. Or rather, she had begun moving so quickly that there had not been a moment to observe the transition between standing and sprinting.

"YOU'RE DELAYING MY DATE!"

It was a primal scream of pure, unadulterated fury. Faced with a single warrior instead of an undead army, the demons of Malekor still flinched and stepped back in uncertainty.

Three of the demons standing on the top of the hill, alongside Malekor at the foot of their fortress, leapt from his side and into the masses of soldiers. It seemed they were spurring on their subordinates, encouraging them to just step forward and put a stop to what seemed like a foolhardy, suicidal charge from a lone maniac.

Unfortunately for the demons who got in Albedo's way, she was hardly suicidal, even if she could have been considered a maniac in this moment. No, she was simply enraged.

The black bardiche which she wielded as her weapon of choice was probably too heavy for a regular person to even lift with all of their strength. And yet, as demons came to confront Albedo, she spun this very weapon in one hand with such speed that it became a blur, slicing through the air like a buzzsaw.

It sliced through flesh and bone with equal ease, bisecting then trisecting one demon, before cutting it into smaller and smaller bits with each high-frequency rotation on its way to the next target. The demons barely had any time to react before they were turned into paste.

Panicking, the legion commanders sent more and more of their soldiers in a desperate attempt to slow what seemed like a veritable force of nature. No, even such a description would fall short of describing Albedo, as she did not even slow down one iota as she eviscerated left, right, and center.

The situation unfolding before their eyes was just too unbelievable, too impossible, for the commanders to form an intelligent response. Dumbly, in an almost mechanical daze, they continued throwing demons at the living blade-storm. Nothing they did seemed to amount to anything but add to the carpet of blood, guts, and broken flesh being left behind in the wake of this terrible monstrosity.

Many demons came to realize that to get in Albedo's way spelled certain doom. Unfortunately, the only way left to run was into the undead. When deciding between the bardiche-wielding terror and the undead they had faced so far, it seemed like Albedo was the more lethal prospect. And so, nearly a fifth of the remaining demons began to flee in the direction of the opposing army.

What they had not counted on was the fact that the low and mid-tier undead they had faced so far did not represent the true extent of the threat that faced them. Emerging from the ranks of skeletons and zombies in a glorious blaze of weapons was Cocytus, fighting his heart out, as he was in the presence of his creator. With an arsenal of chilling effects and other forms of crowd control, the Vermin Lord mowed through droves of demons without receiving a scratch.

By this point, Albedo had nearly reached her target: the pale demon with long, spindly fingers and sagging skin that was apparently the leader of this rabble. The sooner she separated his foolish head from his unworthy shoulders, the sooner she would be able to move on with the Supreme Beings and find her beloved.

Suddenly, a massive, condensed fireball impacted the guardian overseer. This was the first noticeable attack she had received during her entire assault, and it forced her to slow down. Behind the magical attack had been the sort of power that she couldn't afford to simply ignore. It was at least on the level of a 9th tier attack spell.

Looking to the source of the fireball, Albedo spotted a horned humanoid advancing from beside her target. It had another attack prepared, which it proceeded to unleash in her direction.

"Kuh..."

As the guardian with the highest-ranked defense, Albedo was not one to dodge, and so she took the second attack head on. The raw power behind it surprised her once again, causing her to exhale in mild pain. It was clear that this caster had to be dealt with swiftly. Albedo slowed her charge, casually decapitating a few demons that still dared to get near her.

A third spell had just been hurled at Albedo. Would dodging be disgraceful as a proud guardian of Nazarick? That question would remained unanswered.

"[Wall of Stone]!"

Shalltear had caught up with Albedo. In this moment, they were not rivals, but fellow servants of the Nazarick. With the two most frighteningly powerful women among the creations of the Supreme Beings present with their aims aligned, the outcome of the battle was already decided in their minds.

"Shalltear. Can you deal with this magic caster?"

"That one? What easy prey. No subtlety in his motions at all. If he thinks he can beat me with raw power, I'll have him crying on his knees in no time."

"We aren't here to play around, Shalltear. We must catch up with Lord Momonga."

"It's your own fault. Didn't you say you were following Lord Momonga's scent?"

Albedo looked up and sniffed with a dignified demeanor. "I can't help that he left his smell on the Supreme Beings that traveled with him."

With that brief exchange, the two women looked up at their opponents. Shalltear wore a cruel expression, while Albedo's face was hidden under her helmet, with her glowing yellow eyes being the only hint of her day's frustration. Malekor, faced with such an opponent, felt something he hadn't felt in a one-on-one duel in a long time: fear.

Shoutout to all of you readers who leave reviews, and all of the other Overlord authors who update their fanfics. These are the things that inspire me. Also, a lot of you readers are from the Philippines eh? Is Overlord a big thing in your country?