Update: Just fixed some canon stuff
Despite the frigid nocturnal winds blowing fiercely outside, it seemed to Marquis Raevan that the inside of his well-lit and warm manor was in fact, colder. It had been at least an hour since he had the [Message] conservation with the unknown entity.
His entire body was convulsing.
I'm a traitor
I have betrayed the Kingdom I had worked so many years to protect
He could not help but laugh.
It was a maniacal laugh.
All those years of political fencing. All those years of playing on both sides of the battlefield to keep this shambles of a Kingdom together. All those years struggling to keep the schism from ripping apart the country. And in one night, all that effort was lost.
Just like when those one hundred thousand souls were lost in the massacre at Katze Plains.
Marquis Raevan was a ruthless and cunning man. He was a loyal commander, and a fierce tactician. He had a serpentine like visage and possessed the highest authority amongst the Six Great Noble Houses.
He continued to laugh.
It was pathetic.
Fortunately, the sound proof walls of the manor's library prevented the guards outside from hearing his madness.
After a while, he calmed himself down. He thought about his son. His reason for living. His reason for all the schemes and effort he had put in for all those years. Everything he had done, he had done to ensure a better future for his son.
I need to see him one more time.
The image of his son sleeping upstairs appeared in his mind. The picture of innocence. The colorful hand drawn pictures decorating the walls in his bedroom. The toys stacked neatly in the corner. The blanket, hand crafted by his mother, held tightly in his arms as he slept curled in the bed.
The Marquis steadied himself. He picked up the scrolls that were on the ground and carefully stacked them on the table. Then he went to the body length mirror and rectified his clothing. He even lifted up his hair on his forehead to check the injury from when he struck himself.
Just a faint bruise. Barely noticeable.
He then approached the exit and pushed open the large double doors.
The two guards stationed outside, garbed in the attire of the House of Raevan, were surprised at his sudden exit. They bowed deeply.
"My Liege.."
One of the guards paused.
There was something different about the Marquis..he thought curiously.
He then shook his head. As a guard, it was not his place.
"My Liege, I hope your time inside went well. Where would you be going to next? Will you need an escort?"
Marquis Raevan raised his hand in a dismissive gesture.
The other guard interjected.
"Oh! Pardon me, my Liege! A gift from the Crown Prince has arrived. We have delivered it to the royal quarters."
The Marquis was not surprised. He had expected Zanac to try to convince him to return to the capital. In fact, he had ignored all the [Messages] and had sent all the runners he had dispatched back to the palace.
This was also not the first gift he had tried to send.
Crown Prince Zanac Varleon Igana Ryle Vaiself.
He inherited the title after the unfortunate demise of his brother, Prince Barbro. If the situation was different, the Marquis would have been happy at the situation. He had been secretly supporting Prince Zanac for some time. Amongst the three siblings, he was actually quite sensible and compassionate. However, it was unlikely that he was capable of appropriately handling the current grim turn of events.
The Marquis made his way back to the royal quarters. When he arrived, he was stunned by the array of items on the table.
It was an assortment of stylish and aristocratic children's clothing. There were also several boxes of treats and candy. There was an aroma of roasted caramel and sumptuous chocolate. There were also several yellow vials with a sickly sweet citrus fragrance emanating from them. Finally, there was a simple silver ring etched with runes that he could not decipher. A note next to it said it was a ring of protection and designed to ward away evil. The flickering of the hearth fire and the unusual shadows that it cast lent a surreal and majestic aura to the goods lying on the table. Alongside the opulent and tantalizing exhibition of goods and clothing was a piece of parchment which was stamped with the royal family seal, signifying the items have been screened and genuinely originated from the palace.
He was impressed. He had not expected the Prince to be this cunning. However, regardless of the lavish gifts and desperate pleas, the Marquis was firm in his conviction. He would not be returning to the capital.
He glanced at the impressive array of items on the table.
Still.. there was no reason to deprive his son.
If the Marquis had given closer attention, he would have noticed that the shadows seemed to be moving independent of the cackling of the fire.
...
...
...
Mare was overwhelmed by the sight.
The city was certainly much smaller than E-Rantel, but it was bustling with life.
The first thing he noticed was the fresh and gentle sea breeze.
E-Rantel was a land-locked city. The Great Tomb of Nazarick, Carne Village, and the Forest of Tob were also land locked areas. The only countries that bordered the sea was the West side of the Re-Estize Kingdom, the North side of the Roble Holy Kingdom, and the South side of the Agrand Council Alliance.
Over a hundred boats lined the waterfront. The harbor was crowded with ships. Fishing boats rowed back and forth while the dockhands hastily unloaded goods. There were massive whaling barges that were tied to the port. Their fat-bellied hulls were coated with black tar and they rose up and down with the shifting tide. Smaller, agile ships were being poled by ferrymen and were navigated expertly amongst the multitude of ships in the harbor.
Mare looked across the horizon.
He saw manors and arbors and granaries, brick storehouses and merchant stalls, taverns and inns and houses of varying sizes and height. He saw fisheries and ships and factories. He saw windmills and guard towers and solider barracks. He saw churches and chapels and orphanages. He saw bakeries and store houses and stables. There were public bath houses as well. He could even hear the clamor of the fish market at the distance.
And above it all, was the most imposing structure in the center of the city, the Noble's Manor.
Mare was draped in an inconspicuous grey cloak as to not stand out. Typically, it was the standard policy for any floor guardian who leaves Nazarick to be escorted by at least six level 75 guards. However, this was also supposed to be a covert mission for Mare as a test of independence. The city had been thoroughly scouted by the shadow demons. Furthermore, as insurance, he also carried Avarice and Generosity in his possession, although it was not currently equipped.
His cover, if needed, was that of a dark elf servant of a high ranking noble of the Baharuth Empire, and subsequently, as a vassal state of the Sorcerous Kingdom, had been ordered to recruit architects for a project in the Sorcerous Kingdom.
Ideally, they should be willing consultants. However, if not, even identifying suitable candidates would be beneficial. After all, there were many other methods of persuasion.
Mare was given several rules by the Sorcerer King.
Run if there is danger.
Avoid killing anybody.
Stay inconspicuous whenever possible.
Mare recited those words in his head.
Well, time to get started.
As Mare walked amongst the crowd, he drew the attention of the general populace.
What a pretty girl
She must be one of the slaves in the Empire
Who do you think is the Noble that owns her?
Where is she from?
She will surely break the hearts of many people when she grows up
He tried his best to ignore them and pushed on.
The market was unusually crowded despite the late hour.
There was an impressive assortment of chain mail, swords, shields, daggers, and arrows on display. Large burly men with grease stained, gritty clothing stood at their stalls while hawking their wares. Adventures were hopping from stall after stall in search for their ideal equipment.
Mare did not bother exploring the market. He was not interested. He knew exactly where he need to go.
He steeled himself, and entered the store.
It was a sizable structure, and the reception hall was surprisingly spacious. There were drafts and miniature models scattered around the room. Mare could hear the sound of scribes furiously sketching in the rooms beyond.
Technology in the New World was similar to that of the Medieval Ages, but the advancement of magic had allowed for significant progress. Although frontier villages were often build haphazardly around fertile soil, trade routes, or sources of food, the major cities needed careful planning. There were over nine million citizens in the Re-Estize Kingdom, and proper city planning and organization was crucial. In particular, houses with more than one story often required an expert consultant. Naturally, only Nobles and the wealthy would be able to build structures taller than one story, and thus the height of a building often denoted social standing.
Mare approached the receptionist.
What a beautiful child
"How may I assist you, Young Master?"
"…Um..well…I'm looking for the…uhh.. chief architect.."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"..um..well.. No, sorry!"
"I see. Well, my sincerest apologies, but the Chief has a very busy schedule. If you like, I could arrange for a visit next week?"
"um…"
He thought about what he was instructed to do should this occur. Mare struggled to recall the lessons and advice given to him by Albedo and Ainz-sama.
He placed a single metallic object on the counter. He had to stand on his tip-toes due to the height.
It was a platinum coin with the insignia of a wheel stamped on it.
In the New World, there were four different types of currency: Copper, Silver, Gold, and Platinum. They were in ascending value and in denominations of ten. The exchange rate between the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Baharuth Empire was 1:1. At the moment, the Sorcerous Kingdom did not have a national currency and adopted both of them as viable units of currency.
Platinum coins were rarely used and often reserved for trading in matters of the state. They were also useful bribes.
The receptionist understood the gesture.
"I see. Very well, follow me Young Master."
He was lead upstairs into a lavish study where a robust looking man sat behind a magnificent mahogany and oak table.
"Sir, we have a client wishing to-"
Mare did not wait for the secretary to finish her introductions. He immediately strode forth and placed several torn pieces of paper on the table.
It was a complex and detailed drawing of an underground dungeon.
There were sketches and measurements as well as various statistics scribbled on the other pages.
Impetuous behavior was a sign of power and prestige. That was what Ainz-sama taught me about dealing with humans.
The large man's eyes widened with astonishment, then narrowed as he studied the documents in front of him. It was not something he had seen before.
There were design plans detailing large contraptions and hidden tunnels.
There were plans detailing massive holding pens and cages.
There were plans detailing complicated passage ways and secret puzzles.
It was complete madness.
"What is this?!"
Mare produced another piece of parchment, and placed it on the table.
The hefty man picked it up and perused it closely.
There were several long minutes of uncomfortable silence while he scrutinized the script.
Due to Mare's predisposition to stuttering and his lack of experience in negotiations, it was felt by Albedo and Ainz that the ideal solution was preparing these documents beforehand.
"Ainzach? That is the famous adventurer isn't it? Then that means-"
The boisterous man's eyes narrowed on several key words.
"E-Rantel?! Sorcerous Kingdom ?!"
He shot an angry look at the receptionist who was standing at the door way. Her eyes were wide with terror as if screaming:
I didn't know!
The large man exasperatedly looked around the room, although he was not particularly sure what he was searching for. He had heard tales of the city that was subjugated by the Sorcerer King. He knew of the fearsome creatures that patrolled its streets. Finally, he resigned himself and replied.
"What do you require of me, Young Master?"
Mare plucked the final piece of parchment from his cloak.
It was a contract.
The plump man analyzed the document closely.
"The scale of this project.. It would be extremely expensive!"
Mare withdrew a pouch of platinum coins and tossed it on the table. The heavy clink of coins resounded across the room.
"But! I will have to abandon all my current clients!"
Another pouch landed with a loud 'thud' on the wooden table.
"But! I will have to move to E-Rantel. It would take time and money!"
Another pouch landed on the table.
"My men! Yes! They will need to be convinced to accompany-"
Another pouch landed on the table.
The man rattled of several more excuses, and each time, it was met with more coins.
He was running out of excuses. Large beads of sweat rolled down his temple.
Even in this world, money was the solution to just about anything. Even death can be cheated with enough wealth.
Panicked, he peered across the table to Mare, and was taken aback by what he saw.
There was a dangerous, nonchalant glint in his eyes.
He let out a defeated sigh, and withdrew a note from his pocket and stamped it with his seal.
"Please give this to the Marquis. I will need to notify him of my departure."
And with that, Mare set off.
When he was certain that the young dark elf child was out of earshot, the large man trembled with fear and awe.
What sort of nation would send a child to negotiate something like this?
No, that child was a ruthless and cunning tactician.
He had managed to diplomatically intimidate and coerced him without speaking a SINGLE word.
What sort of monsters are there in this Sorcerous Kingdom?
Once he was back in the town square, Mare let out a relieved yet timid sigh.
"…I…did…it!..."
...
...
Meanwhile, somewhere in the city.
Olga turned away and seemed to be only half listening. But Jakarn knew the Templar assassin had a way of appearing not to be aware when, in fact, she was taking account of every word. He recognized this behavior as it was a talent that he himself had perfected in his missions as part of the Windflower Scripture, the espionage covert branch of the Slane Theocracy elite forces.
"It should be time to meet our client."
...
...
Mare arrived at the imposing manor at the center of the city. He was not impressed.
"Its…so..small..compared..to..Nazarick"
He was ushered through an opulent hallway before finally into a small waiting room where he was informed to wait until the Marquis was finished with his meeting. There were four stewards clad in chain mail armor with decorative pole-arms and the insignia of the Six Noble houses on their breast plate waiting in the room with Mare.
Unlike the last visit, he had made an appointment this time; made with the aid and influence of the architect.
There was a commotion outside. After what sounded like a brief scuffle, the door burst open to reveal a small child, no older than eight, running excitedly into the room with several attendants hurrying hesitatingly behind him.
The boy seemed to be breathing heavily as if each breath was painful to take, but yet he persisted.
He wore an affluent attire fitting for someone of high social standing. An ornamental blue silk shirt with silver trimmings and dark green shorts secured with a white fine cotton belt.
There was a beaming smile on his face and Mare could notice a boyish smile with missing front teeth.
"I want to see the dark elf!"
"Where is she!"
When the boy saw Mare, his eyes widened.
It was the same look that Mare had seen many times in the eyes of Albedo and Shalltear when they gazed upon the Supreme One.
Although Mare did not realize it, in that moment, the small child had fallen in love with him.
The young boy ran towards Mare and embraced him tightly. The force of the impact threw off the grey cloak that Mare was wearing, revealing his blue dragon scale, leather full body suit and his matching short white skirt which exposed his slender thighs.
In truth, Mare could have easily avoided the tackle, but he was not sure on how to deal with the child.
"…um.."
"….um.."
"…..can…you…let…go..of..me?"
On closer inspection, Mare noticed the labored breathing and ragged chest movements of the young child.
Is he sick?
Suddenly, the door burst open and three figures strode in.
"This will just take a moment-"
All three figures froze.
Recognition flared in the eyes of the two figures flanking Marquis Raevan.
"You!"
"What is the meaning of this!?"
They immediately drew their weapons.
The hulking crusader drew a large and fearsome looking mace. It glowed with power as intricate runes glowed on the shaft.
The young slender female drew a long fencing foil, and it appeared as if a toxin coated the blade.
Reflexively, the guards in the room took an offensive stance and gripped their pole-arms.
The boy hugging Mare cried in fright, his breathing even more labored.
Marquis Raevan was stunned. He did not understand what had transpired.
Why would they react so dramatically to an elf?
Were the demi-humans despised that much in the Slane Theocracy?
Why was his son here?
"Traitor!"
"It seems we have been betrayed!"
He was now utterly confused.
"I did no such-"
"Liar! The proof is right in front of us. An agent of the Sorcerer King!"
Marquis Raevan was bewildered.
Why would a representative of the Sorcerer King be here?
Have I been discovered?
Impossible! I was so careful.
"Eliminate the threat."
Without saying as much, Jakarn agreed.
Since working together, the Templar had only displayed a single minded determination of performing tasks that vindicated her religion and venerated her order's patrons, the Four Gods. An ally of the undead could always be considered an enemy, and so are their supporters, whether man, woman, or child.
The 'Boogeymen' of the Temple. A well-earned title.
Regardless of whether the Marquis had willingly or unwillingly betrayed them, the fact was that they were compromised. There could be many others waiting in ambush outside. The best course action was to strike decisively and then flee in the chaos. Furthermore, the enemy was a mere child and unguarded. They had observed him back in E-Rantel. He was a magic caster. There might not be another ideal opportunity such as this ever again.
Olga dashed forward.
"STOP! That's my son!"
A hostage? Or a distraction? It did not matter to her
She had seen the way these two children had embraced each other.
She had fought countless foes in many different scenarios. There was only one way to deal with people with hostages or those who were protecting others.
Her strike would be accurate and true.
The first thrust was a feint, and Mare had expertly side-stepped it while maneuvering the young child in his arms.
So the dark elf saved the child? Then they truly were betrayed.
However, this was also an opportunity. Moving with such a burden would greatly diminish ones fighting and evasion capabilities.
The second thrust was the decisive one.
[Greater Ability Boost]
[Full Throttle]
[Piercing Strike]
It would be a thrust that even Clementine would have been proud of.
Olga aimed for Mare's weakness.
There was no way he would be able to evade in time with the child in tow.
And even if he did not.
Everyone had always underestimated the puncturing power of her blade.
A pitiful howl filled the room.
It originated from Marquis Raevan.
Olga's blade had pierced through the little boy.
It was supposed to have gone through all the way and punctured Mare as well, but..
Hard.
Very hard.
It was as if she had struck a wall of adamantine.
The shock wave reverberated through her arm, and threated to fracture her hand.
[Dull Pain]
[Reinforce Body]
She immediately jumped back and retreated.
What sort of armor is he wearing?
"..Um..why are you doing..uh..this?"
There was no emotion in his face when he let the bleeding body of the young boy fall to the ground.
So cold! As expected of a servant of the Undead Tyrant
While Mare had a shy and cowardly personality, it did not affect his loyalty to Ainz or his ability to carry out his duties, no matter how cold-blooded they may be.
Another howl arose from the Marquis as he saw his son's body fall to the ground.
As if jolted from the shock, the guards began to surround Olga and Jakarn.
However-
With the 'crunch' of bone and flesh splinting, the mace tore through chainmail and armor alike as Jakarn wielded it with great strength and fury.
Olga quickly dispensed of the two guards that attempted to retreat and call for reinforcements.
Be careful! This creature is stronger than expected.
Then I will use my strongest attack.
Jakarn prepared himself. He was a hulking figure of a crusader. He stood like a fortress, girded for war. It was easy to imagine him equipped with an impressive set of full heavy armor, complete with a thick wood-and-iron shield, more than half his height, which bore on its face the carved head of a mighty dragon being struck down, along with a great helm tucked underneath his left arm, and in that hand, a massive two handed flail with the symbol of the Slane Theocracy, an intricate candle with six lights and a holy wreath, emblazoned on a tabard across his barrel chest.
This time, however, he was equipped with a large mace. He was not wearing heavy cumbersome armor, and thus his movements would be quicker and more agile.
[Greater Ability Boost]
[Strong Assault]
[Heavy Blow]
[Major Brutality]
[Major Savagery]
With this blow, even an adamantine adventurer would find it difficult to absorb without significant damage.
Jakarn took several massive strides and raised his colossal arms. It was a perfect blow, and he was proud of it.
The mace struck with terrific force.
Had the target been of Jakarn himself, every bone in his body would have been shattered by the bludgeoning strike.
However, his opponent was one of the Floor Guardians of the Great Tomb of Nazarick.
Mare was strong. He was strong even amongst the other NPCs of Nazarick. His statistics were quite balanced in both physical and magical aspects. Fully equipped with the gauntlets Avarice and Generosity, he would be a challenge even for Shalltear.
However, because of his age and inexperience, he lacked the full combat prowess of the other warrior NPCs in Nazarick.
Mare casually raised his right arm to block the bludgeoning blow.
Jakarn was blown back from the tremendous impact.
The mace flew from his hands and landed some distance away.
His hands were mangled from the shock but he did not notice the pain as the stared at Mare in disbelief
Completely unharmed?!
But that was not altogether true.
Jakarn had struck a very painful and devastating blow.
He just did not realize it yet.