God Rising: The Cult of Ainz
Written by: AtheistBasementDragon
Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots
Chapter 176: Point/Counterpoint
AN: Happy Holidays! Since we had some people donate food to food banks, I'm doing a short chapter bomb instead of just a winter vacation. Seven chapters, 6 GR and one Discord Exclusive comedy moved over. Enjoy... But one more thing!
AN TRIGGER WARNING: This warning will appear on a number of chapters going forward. I don't normally do these, but given the delicate subject matter... I think it necessary. Some of you have noticed that the character of Neia Baraja has become increasingly violent. As those of you who read the Synod are aware, she by this point, has developed SEVERE PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) due to the things she's seen and done. I have done my best to write it in such a way that this mental health condition is treated RESPECTFULLY and not some TRIVIALIZED GIMMICK, any defects found therein, are mine. Her mistakes, her outbursts, nightmares, aggressiveness, defensiveness, and her desensitization toward and increasingly reactionary resorting to violence are all part of that, as is... unfortunately, the state of mind that has her starting to believe she is beyond help or hope, and those of you who are observant, have noticed it building for awhile. I realize this makes her less... likeable. But I hope it helps to make her more 'real', and if you know someone like this in the real world... please... get them help. Also, if it helps... the Synod deals heavily with her attempt at coming back, so... while I hate to give spoilers, don't lose hope for her.
...Forton...
Departing the presence of Lord Ainz under a disciplinary measure was the last thing Neia wanted. Yet doing so, knowing justice had been rendered, was as much relief as shame. Though as Neia and Tuare departed, it felt profoundly strange to walk down the long hallway beside her 'victim'. 'I never thought I'd see something like this happen in my life. What do I even say?' Neia wondered as she walked in stiff silence beside Tuare.
The difference between the two women was as night and day. Even shamed as she felt, Neia walked with her back straight, shoulders back, and eyes forward. Even stiff, her arms and legs moved with purpose. Even unarmed, she was a weapon. Even clean of filth, she smelled of blood. Beside her... Tuare. Even secure in justice, her eyes were down. Even free, she moved demurely with her hands folded in front of her in a state of submission.
Their footfalls echoed on the floor and bounced off the walls, providing the only ambiance they got as they walked through the finery of the building. Its smooth floors and polished walls, the art that hung up along the way, all spoke of the tremendous wealth of who had furnished and provided for it. Yet for all that beauty, to Tuare, it was like being locked in a cage with a wolf that had just been fed.
The feeling of violence was still fresh, and though even minutes ago, Neia had not seemed so frightening, with the ruling made and the promise with it, Tuare wondered what was to happen next. Uncertainty was dangerous for peasants, and her sense for that danger was sharpened to a razor's edge.
Neia broke the moment first, she stopped in her tracks, "Tuare, wait." She said as gently as she could manage.
The maid froze, she turned slowly. "Y-Yes, Lady Neia?" She asked tentatively.
Neia started to reach to touch her, but seeing the maid take an involuntary step back, she froze again, and lowered her hands back to her side. "I meant what I said... I really didn't mean that to happen to you. I will meet your price but... you don't have to be afraid of me."
Tuare cracked a smile, it wasn't the demure one she often wore, it wasn't bemused, amused, wry, or pliant. It also didn't last long enough for Neia to grasp what it was, because she almost immediately laughed. Her head went back and she laughed with such bitterness as Neia had not imagined could be held in another person.
"Of course I do. I'm terrified of you! I don't have a choice about that!" She exclaimed and balled up her little hands into fists that she raised up before her waist. "Do you have any idea... any at all... how much that hurt? How frightening it is to have someone who reeks of blood and death from the tens of thousands of lives she's taken without remorse or pity, take hold of your wrist while you're completely helpless, and squeeze? To have no idea if you can even say anything to anyone ever? To crouch in a corner of your room not even wanting to tell your husband because he helped make the person that hurt you? Or because you don't know what that powerful person might do next? Do you?!"
Neia didn't respond, she just remained quiet, chastened, her terrifying eyes were shut.
"Then don't tell me I don't have to be afraid of you... Please... I have good reason to be afraid, you can't tell me that I don't, whatever I feel, at least it is 'mine' to go through, do I have to throw that at your feet too?" Tuare asked through tears of anger, which she wiped away on the sleeve of her maid outfit with a heavy sniffle.
"You... apologized, and you turned yourself in, nobody ever did either of those after hurting me before so... I believe you meant it, and I will... forgive it. But I don't ever want to be alone with you again... please... just let me stay away from you... I... I'm going to ask my husband if he can join me when we travel with you to Kami Miyako to... 'collect my price'. Please... just... just leave me alone." Tuare closed her mouth tightly, and Neia took a few steps back.
Neia started to nod, but didn't complete it, she could hear Tuare backing away, then turning on her heel and getting out of there as fast as she could scurry. Neia stood alone in the hall, her gently closed eyes tightened. "Hero, huh. Some hero. I am an idiot."
Lacking for anything else to do while she gave Tuare her head start, she looked around the hall, next to where she'd stopped was a painting. Beautifully made, it showed a road of grass splitting a lake in two, on one side, the reflected sky, trees, and shore, were as clear as if it were a looking glass. An orange glow from a setting sun cast its light over the scene, and a single figure stood alone on the road looking out, his back to the artist. A little cottage on one side had two chairs outside next to the door, the whole thing was done in such a way that it seemed to be plucked out of a dream. 'Like someone saw what Skana and I talked about and hung it here.' She touched the frame, a golden colored wood with intricate swirling patterns around the edge as if to represent the breeze. Then she let her hand fall to her side, and walked away from it without a backwards glance.
'If this is how it has to be, then so be it.' She thought to herself as she made her way to... nowhere in particular.
That 'nowhere' took her to the meeting hall where a large long table had been set up, around which many a familiar face was gathered. The first face she saw was that of the Emperor of Baharuth, he was standing in front of a large minotaur dressed in an elegant purple robe indicative of royal status. The minotaur was easily as tall as the Sorcerer King, but the body was lean, muscled, it stood with confidence, yet she knew the difference between a warrior and a... not warrior. This one, even from the back was 'not' a warrior. 'Ambassador from the Minotaur Kingdom. Amazing, never seen one of those before.' She thought. "Emperor Jircniv." Neia said formally, inclining her head in polite but not submissive manner.
'By all the dead gods...' Jircniv thought to himself as he looked at her. He thought back to the last time he'd been in front of her, she'd been a hard one then, with her piercing gaze and cold, calculating zealotry. Now? He took an unconscious step back as she came close, and covered for it by raising a hand to gesture to the enormous minotaur lord in front of him, as if he was just making room for her to insert herself.
"This is Ambassador Akrotiri of the Minotaur Kingdom." He said with all the outward calmness of a man in his own home, and all the inner calmness of someone standing in the eye of a storm.
"Ambassador Akrotiri, this is the Pope I was telling you about, otherwise known as General Neia Baraja." Jircniv said, glancing up to the Ambassador as he gestured over to her.
'Humans are so small.' Akrotiri thought just before he turned to look at the diminutive pope, only to be immediately glad she wasn't taller, her eyes raked him from cloven hoof up to the tips of the horns that protruded out and away from his head. His brown eyes met hers, and he felt swallowed whole.
"General Baraja, I have heard much of you and your exploits. They are... impressive." He said. Then he started to extend a hand, hesitated for a moment, and then completed the gesture. She reached out and took his, his hand made hers disappear, but despite the size, he felt the acute softness of his palm, and hers felt like it had the hardness of the head of a battle ax.
"Thank you very much, Ambassador." Neia smiled with warmth and activated the power of her voice, "I hope you find that your time here is worthwhile, and recognize the glorious era His Majesty is ushering in to the lands west of your border. No doubt a just and fair trade relationship between our two peoples will make us far better neighbors than good walls, good castles, or good armies." She tilted her head as she flashed her winning smile and closed her eyes to keep back any chance of ferocity showing through as they released their handshake.
"Yes, I would hope for much the same, we have had... little contact with our western brethren, except through rumors carried by merchants who heard things third hand from other merchants." Ambassador Akrotiri's long snout couldn't show the same range of emotions with his bull like mouth, but it seemed he was being wry about the matter.
"Yes, it's the same with us, far enough away, and all you get are half formed stories." Jircniv shrugged, "Well, with the coming stability, no doubt that will change. We will need to form more cooperative trading relationships with our eastern and southern neighbor kingdoms."
"When peace is restored at least," The Ambassador said, and then froze in mid-sentence.
He felt like a hand caressed his heart. "Peace will be restored 'very' soon."
It was Neia's only answer. She looked at neither of them, but she didn't need to, they could smell the blood and see the bodies, and then the moment was gone.
"When that happens, I should send my good friend, Tinamoc," She clenched her hand tight for just a moment, then continued, "your way. He's a merchant of the highest caliber, and I have no doubt he could hammer out an agreement that would have both our homelands increase our prosperity for many years to come." The charm replaced the scent of blood, and her voice moved like silk over skin, and it was as if they could see the falling pieces of gold so clearly that they wanted to hold their hands out to catch them in hand.
"That is my hope for my people as well." A large, well muscled tigerman in red cloak and wearing a simple double ended black fabric that split at the thighs and was secured by a golden cord knotted at the front. Atop his head he wore a simple golden circlet with two inlaid rubies side by side, and then the next three spots beside them were empty spots clearly meant for the same stone.
"Majesty." The minotaur ambassador bowed formally with one arm folded in front of him at the waist.
"I'm sorry, forgive my ignorance, but I don't believe we've met." Neia said politely, inclining her head, but not bowing. She then extended a hand. "I am Pope Neia Baraja, General of the armies of Black Justice."
The tigerman enfolded her hand in his thick padded fingers. "King Rargnan of the Beastman Kingdom. Your lord made me his primary contact, and for that my people made me their king."
Neia gave him a graceful smile, "He elevates all who he graces with his eyes... sometimes much farther than they could ever deserve." Her smile became somewhat self-effacing, but she kept every ounce of charm in her tone of voice.
'That's new. Usually on first meeting, a human is at least terrified of me, yet it is my marrow that is cold. Perhaps I should test her a little.' Rargnan thought to himself.
"He does, he... visited... my kingdom during our war with the Draconic nation, we'd been eating humans easily till then. At least our stronger ones were, unaware that we were in fact destroying ourselves." Rargnan kept his voice neutral and put a sense of irony into his gruff voice, but he watched the Pope with interest to see how she would respond to such a statement.
'Is he suicidal?" Jircniv wondered, privately aghast though he kept his face neutral, he covered any possible breach in his expression by taking a wine glass off of a tray carried by a passing elven server and bringing it to his lips.
Neia, to their common surprise, only smiled, more broadly than one might expect a human to normally do at all, let alone to such a statement. "Yes of course, after all, the line between predator and prey is... a very thin one, and one never knows when a greater predator is watching. It is... so fortunate that he acted in such a way that both your nations were in the end, preserved." She let her closed eyes open just as she finished speaking, and a tiny hint of reverberation carried from her lips and struck his nerves, killing them for an instant.
'OK, that was a bad idea. She is what they said. Test over! Test over!' Rargnan thought to himself, but answered when his heartbeat resumed its pace, "I agree, the truth is, he's dealt fairly with those of us who lived." He then removed his crown and held it down to her level. "Do you see these?" He asked, pointing with one claw to the rubies and the empty spots.
"Yes, Sire, why do you ask?" Neia asked politely, sensing a change in his tone that she approved of.
Rargnan's voice was full of wonder and admiration as he went on to explain, his eyes sparkled like the rubies themselves, and his tone was full of optimism. "The two inlaid rubies represent goals accomplished in our restoration, the renewed soil and plants are seeing a return of wildlife. The rivers flow as they once did. And the red patch that killed so relentlessly has been wiped out. In another year, I will put an additional ruby into place, as we will have established a vast network of farms to feed our omnivore population and will have established extensive ranches for our carnivore population. Two years after that, I expect us to be able to actually sell our goods again, and within two years after that, I expect us to have established the first new towns under the planning system the Sorcerer King has given to us. Lastly, we'll have a minister and cabinet expressly for the management of our environment and food supply systems to ensure we never destroy ourselves again. We will never have the numbers again that we once did... but we will have better lives as a result."
"Impressive." Neia said, the muscles of her face tensed as she tried to keep the cocky, proud smirk on her Lord's behalf, at bay.
"Yes, it is for that reason that I intend to offer my kingdom as a vassal state. Well, that reason and... I do not relish the notion of being neighbors with a long term enemy like the Draconic Kingdom while it has the backing of the Sorcerer King." He said with some discomfort.
"That's wiser than I was hoping you'd be." Queen Draudillon spoke as she approached the group. "I had intended to petition his Majesty for your utter destruction after the war." She walked with smooth, easy confidence, dressed in her very best, and bore a smile sweet as poison on her face as she came near. She looked over to Neia, "Excuse me for not approaching you right away, Pope Neia, I was in conversation with Ambassador Gran of the Troll Kingdom, and Revered Speaker Esgas of the Wyvern Rider Confederation, and Ambassador Nolos of Karnassus. The latter of which is... a bit of a talker." She smiled a little to show that she only joked.
Neia responded with a polite laugh and brushed it off, the gap did not linger long.
King Rargnan turned to look at the Draconic Queen. His gaze was cool and calm, he didn't exude hostility, he seemed more a disinterested stranger than hostile power. His stance didn't really change, it regained the briefly lost confidence, and he spoke without baring his predatory teeth. His arms and hands opened at his side, the light caught the sheen of his fur and gave the king of the beastmen a regal air. "I am unsurprised, Queen Draudillon, but... after all the Sorcerer King has put into restoring what is left of my people, I think it unlikely he would accept." A notion quickly jumped to his mind as he caught the interested eyes of the Warrior Pope, "Besides, I think that would be very inconvenient since we will be officially extending an invitation to the Pope to send her priests and paladins into our lands to spread the glory of the Sorcerer King in anticipation of our integration into the fold."
Jircniv had seen a lot of political maneuvering over the years, but seldom had he seen a more adroit move at averting a potential calamity. Not since he'd offered to vassalize himself. The surprise on the face of both the Minotaur Kingdom ambassador and on the Draconic Queen came too quickly for them to completely suppress. But on the face of the deadly Black Paladin was something he'd never imagined on her. Unbridled joy. Neia smiled enormously and her eyes shone a radiant blue that made her briefly appear more a pretty girl than a blood reeking monster.
'Masterful. He's made an ally of the Sorcerer King's most powerful human worshiper with a single sentence and headed off any further considerations by the Queen of bringing further death to his lands. Good idea too, if I'd been Draudillon I'd have pointed out to Neia next how they took to eating humans, just like the Demihuman invasion, and would likely eat the elves she rescued just as easily.' Jircniv thought as he studied the face of the Draconic Queen.
She smiled sweetly, "Then we will share one faith, I had my people officially break ground on the first temple to the Sorcerer King, just a few weeks ago. We demolished one dedicated to the six that had fallen into disuse. It will be the largest temple in the eastern region of his empire when it is finished. Perhaps... as a token of 'friendship' and to help atone for the past, you would send a few artisans and laborers to help with the process, and be among the first to kneel there in deference to his glory?"
'Bad conditions aside, she's no fool. He can't refuse without looking insincere earlier.' Akrotiri thought to himself, the tigerman was relatively new at kingship, compared to the long rule of the Emperor, or the Minotaur King, or the human Queen, that much was clear. It was clear because he was caught off guard by the seemingly friendly proposal that was more like a petty jab that he couldn't avoid. 'That will cost him precious resources, laborers, and skilled craftsmen, making it easier for her to look good while extending the time it takes for his people to recover, since there aren't so many of his people left... I should not underestimate the players of the royal game in the west.' He reminded himself and made a mental note of what he saw as Neia waited expectantly.
"Y-Yes, that is... justice. When all is finished here and I return home, I will gather a thousand laborers and a hundred of my finest artisans, and send both them and suitable building materials to your capital. I hope you will reciprocate the gift when I break ground on our own." King Rargnan said hastily, giving a subtle reminder that her boast of size could yet be rivaled in the future.
Neia found the whole exchange fascinating, something tickled in the back of her brain as she watched it all play out, she almost felt like a kid who had jumped into a game without knowing the rules, like she was seeing the shadows of other words behind the ones they said openly. Still, her eyes held their joyful light, "I will match the gift with followers of my own, just as soon as Kami Miyako is a ruin, I will call for volunteer artisans to go east. Oh, and speaking of the east..."
Neia's face went hard as stone and the light faded away from her expression, the smell of blood that wasn't there touched their nostrils, "Well done in taking Yaksun. I read the report of how you used the demon woman to terrify the population, and the atrocities of their elites to shame them. You kept the place pacified, that's good. Terror is good, but sometimes shame is better, you used both well, Queen Draudillon. In both Yaksun and at Chasm City."
The Queen was no coward, fear seldom touched her, and for that she was grateful, "Th-Thank you. I've... read about some of what you've done. I'm... amazed at what you have accomplished yourself."
Neia waved it off, "They were in His Majesty's way, that is the same as suicide. But... My victories have not always been so, nor are they truly mine to claim. The greatest part of my knowledge comes from the education my divine father has chosen to grant me. My skills are due more to the diligence of his servants in training myself and my own, our gear is the fruit of his generosity, even the very power in me that brings armies to their knees... it is not mine." She lowered her face humbly, "I draw upon him, he is my strength, and by his strength I will break anything in the world, even the world itself, to see him to his proper place." Her smile was gentle, even motherly, a stark paradox to the low, reverberating voice of death, the shadowy eyes, and the smell of blood that even a hint of the wrath beneath seemed to call up.
"I have learned from him, and from experience, and learned well, and so I know what will happen next. Whatever survivors fled Wheaton before it was destroyed, who manage to survive the trip as well, will bear the story of my actions, and their fear will consume them. Fear is a very... very powerful tool. Not the only one..." She smiled sweet as death and held her palm out and turned up in the center of the little knot of world leaders, "but when you use it, and capture your enemies in their fear of you, then they dance in the palm of your hand, and you have grasped their very hearts. Then all you need do... is squeeze." She said savagely and closed her fingers into a fist.
"Jaldabaoth, Remedios, Suchala, Yuri, the breakers and overseers I've captured, the lords of Wenmark, the priests and judges of Yanana, I've learned from all of them, and in just a little while, I'll apply those lessons at Kami Miyako, and they will never rise again." Neia said as if she were describing the blooming of garden's roses opening to the sun, it wasn't hate that poured out of her, or even wrath, she was easy and tranquil even as her closing fingers cut off the light that struck her palm.
"It will be... a sight to see." Queen Draudillon said in a voice as hushed as if she were whispering at a funeral.
"I look forward to having you with me when we get there, your army from what I understand, should be reaching what is left of Wheaton soon." Neia said matter of factly.
"What is left of it?" Queen Draudillon asked with surprise, this reiterated phrasing of destruction caught the ears of the others and they looked at Neia questioningly.
"Oh, right, you probably haven't seen the report yet, there's not much left of it, the population is now roughly the size of a small town, no telling how many fled before I got there, but not much remains of those who stayed. You'll see for yourself when you get there, but the report has probably already left His Majesty's hands and gone to those of you who regularly receive such things." Neia explained patiently, she missed the muted and neutral expressions when her eyes caught those of Queen Calca across the room.
"Excuse me," Neia bowed her head politely, "I wish to go say hello to my former Queen, I haven't seen her since my wedding and I would like to pay my respects." Nobody objected as she broke from the little group and crossed the room, passing between servants and functionaries brought along for the occasion, and taking up a glass of wine for herself as she passed an elven server who looked at her with worshipful eyes.
For a moment they were quiet as she excused herself and walked with purpose to the Queen, long confident steps devoid of hesitation to approach a royal to her face, and more so as she set her glass down on a nearby table, and to the surprise of the watchers, they saw her relax, her dark aura dissipating as she embraced Calca as one might a sister, friend, or a favored aunt.
"Are all your military officers so familiar with the nobility?" Akrotiri asked, his large upright ears twitched as he spoke, but he did not tear his eyes away.
"No." Emperor Jircniv explained, "She's not just a military commander however, because she's the pope, she's the commander of all the faithful of the Sorcerer King from the Northern Holy Kingdom in the west, to here in Forton, far to the East, as far south as the Elven Kingdom, and as far north as the tip of Re-Estize and Baharuth. Since nothing like her has ever existed, we've all..." Jircniv stroked the thin beard he had begun to grow and thought for a moment about how best to explain it to the twitchy eared Minotaur ambassador, "well, we've independently concluded that we are better off just treating her as a kind of royalty. Is that as strange to you as it is to us?" He asked with an eyebrow raised.
Akrotiri paused, as if to consider an answer and Jircniv hastily continued to avoid a possibly awkward situation.
"I admit I am ignorant of the Minotaur Kingdom, so forgive the nakedness of the question." The Emperor apologized with a bow of his head to the representative of the minotaur king. He concealed a smile at the lie, it was a small one, but through little things, he could always glean advantage.
"Think nothing of it, Emperor Jircniv. We are an open faced people, with little need of titles, but I have always heard that humans were surrounded by protocol and ceremony, where titles decide even who can speak to whom." Ambassador Akrotiri scratched at his snout, and Draudillon chuckled a bit.
"Would you like to tell her she can't speak to someone?" She asked archly.
"I would not." King Ragnarn replied in the growling voice of a tigerman, he and Queen Draudillon glanced at each other sideways in silent acknowledgement of one another's temporary agreement on at least one subject, and the conversation moved on.
Calca held her arms out, Neia was happy to embrace them, though she buried a surge of emotion when Calca caught her own reflection in the glass Neia set aside, and flinched involuntarily before she recovered. "Good to see you again, Pope Neia."
"Good to see you too, Queen Calca." Neia's smile was genuine, as was that of the woman who stood in for her mother at her wedding. Calca folded her hands over Neia's when they stepped back from the embrace, and held them between the two. "But... I have to ask... are you alright?"
Neia cocked her head and furrowed her brow as if in doubt. "Majesty?"
Calca leaned forward just a little, "While I admit... Yanana stunned me, conversing with Robel ah... illuminated some things, I understand better now but," she whispered, "you put your life on the line to save me, you put everything on the line to protect our people after I died, whatever you've done, I just don't believe you're the uncaring, unfeeling monster the Theocracy says, or that you seem intent on convincing others that you are. Please... tell me the truth."
Neia shut her sky blue eyes and let out a sigh, sure that nobody near was listening, she spoke gently in response, "Majesty, you're perhaps the kindest noble I've ever met, after the Sorcerer King. And I've met all the ones worth knowing, I think. But trust me, everything is going as it should go, and when it ends, so will... things with me. I just have to finally bring this to an end, and we'll get," her eyes popped open and held Calca in the shining whiteness of her eyes, "a brand new world out of all this. It won't be for nothing, and that is enough for me."
"Oh, Neia..." Calca felt the almost desperate hope coming off the bloody Pope, and whispered the last too softly even for her ears to catch, and she stroked the hard surface of Neia's hand.
They might have said more, but Neia felt eyes boring into her head, and followed her gaze to a door on the other side of the room where General Enri was staring at her, having locked eyes, Neia withdrew her hands from Queen Calca, "Excuse me," she said hastily, "I think I have to deal with something." She didn't stay to catch Calca's acknowledgement, but the Queen watched as the two women seemed to move in sync.
Long strides from short legs stood out as the two crossed the great hall as if they were combatants. Neia saw a document in Enri's hand, her practiced eyes caught a few words, and understanding dawned, but she revealed none of her thoughts.
Enri wore white, similar to her runecrafted armor, emblazoned with the symbol of Ainz Ooal Gown in black, a stark contrast to the opposing choice for Neia herself. Her eyes were hard and fixed forward, her arms swung back and forth like a pendulum as she made her way in a beeline for the smaller Pope, neither flinched from the other, but the tension became palpable enough that others began to catch a sense of it.
They stopped short, just two feet from one another. "General Enri." Neia said calmly.
"General Baraja." Enri replied frostily. They stood stiff as spears in a battle line, quiet until they realized eyes were starting to focus on them. Before either could suggest they take things elsewhere, a bell began to ring from the center of the room. They turned their heads to look, and saw a double row of elf servants in formal green and white dress entering pushing the carts carrying trays of food on silver platters.
The elves laid out placards with names on them, each embossed in the language of the person in golden ink. So one by one they found their seats. Neia, to her pleasure, found herself pulling her chair up next to Zesshi Zetsumei.
"General Neia. A pleasure once again." She said, amused, as though they hadn't just fought a battle together.
"Queen Zesshi, the pleasure is mine, I almost didn't recognize you without your scythe." Neia chuckled as the half elf sighed with longing.
"I miss my scythe." She said, obviously wishing to have her weapon at hand, her hands opening and closing as if to feel the phantom of her weapon. "I feel naked without it."
Neia's pulse was pounding, she felt the stare from Enri like one feels a pin pressing into the flesh. She did her damndest to suppress the memory of violence, the sword thrust through a back, bodies so close her ear and snarling teeth were pressed against it and she could hear the heartbeat once before her sword cut it in half inside her victim's chest and stop forever. There was no question in her mind why Enri was staring at her, though she saw out of the corner of her eye how she only stowed the document.
'Zesshi is a pretty one, in an unusual sort of way.' Neia thought, seizing on that idea, she responded, "Trust me, if you were actually naked, I'd be looking a lot harder at you right now." Neia winked, and Zesshi cocked her head and looked down at her, unsure if the Pope was joking or not.
Neia chose not to explain, but let it by with a chuckle that the Queen took up in turn. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm taken." Zesshi responded with some amusement, her black and white hair bounced behind her as she gave out a genuine laugh. As she laughed, she found herself much at ease, her body felt loose and relaxed as it did when she had indulged herself in just a little more alcohol than she should have in the past. 'So, this is what it feels like?' She thought as she leaned back in her seat and brought a cup of wine to her lips. Nobody was staring at her ears, nobody was muttering anything under their breath that they wanted her to not hear, or arguably worse, wanted her to hear, and she didn't have to conceal herself from the world like she was a source of shame for those she served. Even the jokes flowed more naturally as she turned to speak to King Zanac beside her.
Enri went to the chair opposite Neia after having pocketed the document, and took her seat, the sound of the sliding chair sounded like thunder to the Black Paladin, but she kept a neutral face as the silent glare continued as if it had never been broken. Relief was snatched away from Neia's grasp. 'Why? Why? Why now?' She closed her eyes in faux tranquility and kept her hands beneath the table to hide how tense they were as one by one, sumptuous meals were laid out for the most powerful figures of the west, north, south, and near east. The City State Alliance, the Minotaur Kingdom, the Wyvern Rider Tribal Confederation, the Troll Kingdom, tribal chiefs of the Abelions Hills, all had representatives at the far end of the table. Closer to the head, were those closest to the Sorcerer King, the vassal state leaders, royalty born and bred, and yet the two who had no claim to grand titles, sat in opposing tension to one another.
Plate after plate laid down in front of guest after silent guest, waiting for the servants to complete their task, to Neia it felt like a countdown. She felt the unblinking iron eyes of the peasant general, and she started to get angry. Her heartbeat skipped for a moment, and throb to a new rhythm. 'How dare she? How dare she? HOW DARE SHE?!' Neia thought to herself as the sound of silver gently striking wood ticked off the seconds.
It was only when the one empty chair, the one at the head, had a plate laid down in front of it, that the one to be seated, entered the chamber. The great double doors at the back of the room opened, and out of it stepped the radiant Albedo, who walked gracefully to the seat and under the eyes of all, she held out her arms in welcome, spread her wings, and smiling joyfully, she addressed them all. "Welcome to the Forton Conference. I am Lady Albedo, the Guardian Overseer of Nazarick, in terms some of you would better comprehend, I am the equivalent of a Prime Minister or a Majordomo. My Lord, His Majesty the Sorcerer King, bids you welcome. He sends word that he will join you soon, but as he does not eat..." a low rumble of amused or reluctant laughter swept the table, "he invites you to dine first while he tends to some sudden and unfortunate business, you will be informed about its nature when he arrives, but for now he wishes you to simply enjoy yourselves before he settles down to the matter of business."
Glances around the table were full of questions, wide eyes, flushed cheeks, tilted heads or bodily tension, most were slightly on edge, but Albedo filled the gap further.
"It is nothing unmanageable, I assure you, there are simply a few minor details to be settled upon before bringing it to the relevant party's attention for a decision. In the meantime, Pope Neia, would you open the meal with an invocation?" Albedo asked, and Neia shot to her feet.
"It would be my honor, Lady Albedo." Neia said calmly, folding her hands behind her back, she raised her head, "May I ask that you all please stand, and if you follow other gods, honor them in a fashion suitable to you, as we honor our own."
Every ounce of power she could muster was poured into her voice. From it came a reverberation like drums in a canyon which poured her feelings into their souls, as the many chairs scooted back and the subordinates and neighbors from as far away as Argland or the Minotaur kingdom rose to their feet.
Her voice called eyes to her like the bells of a great temple as she intoned, "To the divine one I offer my praise, and call down from him his wisdom that it may touch upon us this day. Give to us your wisdom, that we may see the path to peace, to create a better world, give us the will to carry it through, no matter the cost to ourselves, for the sake of those who must come after, that it not perish with our passing or with theirs. Give us your courage, that we not flinch from our duties to our beloved people, no matter what they may be. Give us your compassion, that we give mercy to the merciful. And above all, give us your strength, for without strength there can be no justice. For all these things I praise you, and for all these things I ask you. Praises Be to you, Ainz Ooal Gown."
"Please, be seated." Albedo said solemnly as she sat down at the head of the table.
When Neia was seated, she looked down at her plate. A rare and bloody steak was in front of her, a favorite meal, with a rich looking sauce drizzled over it, next to a mixed green side with vegetables she'd never seen before. As she glanced at others, doing her best not to look at Enri and keep her temper from boiling over, she saw equal surprise on their faces, followed by wonder as they ate and talked, clearly those were new dishes to them as well.
It could not however, last for long. "Very nice invocation." Enri said coldly.
Neia saw the knife in her own hand, she felt the judgment coming at her, and the beating of her heart was like a war drum calling her to violence. She gently, slowly set the knife and fork down and closed her eyes again, then put her hands beneath the table where she could clench them covertly.
"Thank you, General Enri." Neia said calmly, and made to turn to her right to address Albedo.
It didn't work, "Especially coming from you." Enri said in a voice that dripped acid.
Neia felt her breath quicken. "Then thank you twice, I think." Neia looked back at Enri again as she spoke, then again she tried to turn back to Albedo to speak, only to find Albedo speaking with Jircniv.
Enri spoke up again, "You're welcome, so strange to hear a butcher speak of mercy." She hissed in outrage.
Neia kept her eyes closed, but she had to squeeze them to keep it so. She felt the anger off the ally across from her.
"Look at me." Enri demanded, leaning forward slightly.
"The last person to make that demand of me, regretted it." Neia said frostily.
"Look at me." Enri demanded it, "What are you going to do, kill me? Was it someone else whose life you stole? How many people are dead that didn't have to be, was the person who made that demand, one of them?"
"Hey..." Zesshi started to say, she felt the slight shaking in the woman next to her.
Enri ignored the half elf, "I read the latest report about what you did at Wheaton, what your armies did... there were peasants there... people who..."
"Shut up." Neia said quietly as she kept her face downward toward the table.
"Why? Can't bear to hear, can't bear to look?" Enri shot back, "How many do you think there were? Look at me, damn it!" She hissed out, unable to contain her outrage.
Neia's head snapped up and she opened her eyes, there was no light left in them only an all swallowing shadow like it was plucked from the deep roots of an ancient mountain, "I did what needed to be done. How dare you? How dare you...?!" Her voice echoed as low and conversation nearby began to quiet down as the tension became overwhelming.
Not flinching from the Pope, Enri shot to her feet and slammed her fists down knuckles first on the table, leaning forward and resting on them. "I dare because you not only drowned an entire city, you exterminated a fortress, mutilated prisoners, and then all but exterminated another entire population! Is that what you're fighting for?! What's wrong with you?!"
Neia stood up and looked her in the eyes, "You damned fool." The silence spread over the table like a plague. Even Albedo ceased speaking to watch with interest. "You don't know anything! Anything!" Neia's voice began to rise with fury, and from her spread the fear.
"What don't I know?!" Enri snarled, "That the way to win a war is to create a desert and call it peace?! You're right, I don't know that! I don't butcher the helpless, I don't destroy cities or drive villagers from their homes. I don't..."
"You don't do what you need to do to win!" Neia slammed a fist down, shattering a chunk of table away as an aura of wrath began to build and radiate from her gaze and cutting Enri off. "Every one of your conquered territories rose in rebellion! Your soldiers are dying for your mercy and you dare... you DARE come to me to complain about how I have won?!"
"What's the point of winning if there's nobody left?!" Enri demanded, "Don't you know that what you're doing is wrong?!" Her hands reached out with palms turned up and her fingers curled like an eagle's talons as if the truth was too big to be held within them.
Neia's lip curled in a rage fueled snarl, "I am doing what has to be done to end this forever! You come late to the war, Enri Emmot-Bareare, far too late to dare tell me how to fight it! While you were at home in your village embracing your little sister, Jaldabaoth rampaged through my country, and I fought to break his power. While you were at home with your goblins, safe and secure, I was breaking the demihumans that still remained to ravage my country! While you were laughing and smiling at home, I was spreading the glory of His Majesty! While you were eating good food, I was feeding our desperate hungry and fighting the corrupt nobles!" Neia's voice echoed like a roll of thunder whose cry was desperate to be heard, but Enri found her voice seized up and she could not speak to silence her counterpart.
She raised her hand and pointed it to General Enri in accusation that countered the one leveled at herself, "While you did nothing, I raised an army. While you did nothing, I suffered the loss of comrades. While you did nothing, my war was already years in the waging of it. Death, death, death every single day and every single hour as the Slane Theocracy sought to use the people who had begged for their aid, and who they had turned away. I did not compel them to my country! I did not make them send General Suchala to set my followers on fire, nor offer inquisitors to Remedios who persecuted us at every turn. I did not raise up the would-be King of Men, Astraka, I was confronted with those things." Neia's accusing finger folded into her hand to make a fist as she continued.
"Before you studied war, I was fighting it, this is only the latest and last stage of it all, and you come along late, you accept my help, my students, my trusted advisors and soldiers to prepare your soft, weak villagers to become warriors, swelling your ranks with competent living weapons... then you face off against the gentle of spirit while I fight monsters of cruelty, and tell me I am wrong?! How dare you... Grand Matriarch, criticize me." Neia's mouth closed, but her eyes did not, the piercing night of her eyes exuded almost demonic fear, and more than one at the table refused to look at the darkness there.
Enri felt shivers run up and down her body as she locked eyes of stone against eyes of terror. Stone cracked, but did not break as easily as most, though she wished ardently for Lupusregina's company now. "You can't really think becoming a war criminal is 'justified' can you?! Just butchering people is... it's not how we're supposed to fight! Remember the accords! Do you dare defy His Majesty?!" Enri demanded.
Albedo raised an eyebrow, but did not interfere, instead she rested her head in one hand and watched it like she was attending a drama.
Neia was not long in answering, "They broke the accords before the ink was dry. You know this. But you know this less well than you should. You read the reports, you know what Queen Draudillon found in Yaksun! You know the conditions of the estates, you know of the breaker school in Wheaton, the horrors of Wenmark that will forever mark the ruin in legend as a dark city, you know that Yanana cast our people out, naked to die in the cold. You damn sure know about the work of Aalon by now, and Queen Zesshi I know, has reported her actions in Kami Miyako in detail. So... General Enri... did you inspect the lands you occupied for similar atrocity, or did you just lack the courage to know the truth, if they were truly there?!"
Enri reared back as if struck and gritted her teeth, hard. "I found not even a rumor of them in Ikari City, and all the slaves were evacuated from Crossroads before we could take it. They wouldn't leave anything behind, that I'm sure of." She folded her arms in front of her chest defensively, but the Pope pressed the point.
"Did you seek out the facilities or didn't you?" Neia asked sharply.
"I... didn't." Enri admitted reluctantly, but her defiant expression didn't change. "I don't think they ever took root in the north anyway, most likely slaves were just too expensive to waste."
Unhappy looks were cast her way from the elven servants, and she felt it as soon as the calm explanation of their expense came out off her tongue.
Neia let the words hang in the air, her mind raced a thousand leagues a second, for the master orator, even a general who she reluctantly acknowledged was her tactical superior, this was a battle she was far better outfitted to wage. "No doubt, that wasn't the case elsewhere, and you know it." Rage seemed to take physical form, "Yes, I am responsible for ending all that, I will not deny the terrible cost, but you pretend you never paid it at all, or worse, that there was no such cost. I've met your bodyguard, and unless I've become terrible at recognizing sadists, Lupusregina Beta is ripping people apart as we speak and probably has been since the day you got here. The Goblin Strategist, I believe his name is Sun... if I'm not a complete incompetent, I would say he's unleashed dragons on the populations that don't yield quickly. I wonder how many villages your soldiers exterminated completely, that I would have reduced barely at all. You can't fight a war with unstained hands. Even Queen Draudillon relied upon a demoness and raw shame, plus demonstrations of supreme magical destruction that required her to kill hundreds of her own. Trading the lives of the few for the lives of the many, as I have the lives of many, in order to save even more!"
Enri's eyes went from narrow with anger to wide in astonishment at what she'd just heard Neia say. "Yes there's a cost, but it's the just thing, to save as many as we can, all that we can, and that we accept risks by doing so!" Enri argued passionately.
"So you put the butchery onto others and keep your own hands clean, and that gives you the justice to stand before me and call me monster?" Neia's fist shook with fury and she brought it back down to her side. "I do what I do openly and honestly. I am still more kind than the Theocracy, I accept surrenders, it is not my fault if they don't take it."
"That doesn't matter if you don't give them the chance to do so!" Enri snarled in retort, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood and angry enough not to have noticed.
"They get the chance when they know I'm coming, I even gave Wheaton an hour of life to make a decision, I didn't make their choice for them. Don't forget, General Enri, that we did not start this mess! But I will finish it. Even if I have to take Kami Miyako by drowning them in their own blood, even if I have to march north and put down the insurrection in your territory myself, this will end. I will make it end, it has to end. No matter what, at any price. I will not see this drawn out even one hour longer than it must, which is why I left written orders to put the dead of Wheaton to use giving Kami Miyako their warning, long before I arrive." Neia's voice was hollow, like talking to a lich, it reminded Enri of the day she heard the battle cry of the death knight, her blood ran cold in her veins.
"You're going to make yourself a war criminal... if you're not already one." Enri said accusingly. "If necessary, I will petition His Majesty to have you tried and hanged for it." Enri replied with a tone that said she meant it, and it froze the blood of those who heard her to even imagine such a thing, but none imagined the response. 'What did she mean, put the dead of Wheaton to use? Do I even want to know?' She wondered, suppressed a shudder, then lost her chance when Neia's hollow voice did the impossible in the face of Enri's threat.
Neia gave out a bitter, long, loud laugh. "Then do it. You thought we could be decent, that this war was going to be just a skirmish writ large, but you thought wrong! Burnings, tortures, kidnappings, rapes, murders, assassinations, inquisitions, the torture of our people, my people, the destruction of my nation and what little peace my country almost got back... no, there has never been anything decent about it, General Enri! You call me a war criminal, but you miss the point!"
Her voice went hard as a mountain side and her fist pounded her own breast as she spoke, "All war is criminal! It steals land, lives, decency and honor, it steals limbs from the healthy, happiness and security from the innocent, and even those who survive it, are forever maimed and never recover in mind even if they get the best magic to restore their limbs and remove the scars of their bodies."
She shook her head furiously, bouncing her straw colored hair wildly, "No! Perhaps you are right and that is what I am, but if I am, I am the last one, because I will bring victory, I will see the elves all freed and the Theocracy a ruined memory that will live on only in myth. I will drag your gentle soul to the victory circle kicking and screaming with your conscience intact because you tried to stop me, but you will fail, and because you fail, I will see us succeed. If Father wishes a noose around my neck, I will place it there myself and step off the platform with a farewell wave! Nothing else matters but making this all END! No matter... what... it... takes..."
The pounding fury of the evangelist voice sent blood pumping hot as volcano's fire through veins that had been ice only a moment before, the tendrils of the hand of death seemed to wrap round Enri's heart and she felt her lungs seize up, it almost felt like an attack, but it wasn't, not quite, it was more like her very will was being drained away to nothingness, fleeing her body as if afraid to remain within her flesh.
But one more sentence, managed to find it's way past her lips, and though she had to lean on the table to sustain her will to stand, she did so using fists and portrayed what strength she could as she said it, "I'm sure Remedios Custodio would have said exactly the same thing, word for word."
The words hung between them for a moment... and then there was a heart rending wail that filled the room, echoing for so long and loud from wall to wall that for a moment Enri wanted to look around for a banshee, but if anyone else heard the noise, they gave no sign. Neia stood erect still, unmoving and seemingly unmoved, then turned to the Guardian Overseer and bowed deeply, "Forgive me, Lady Albedo, but I seem to have lost my appetite, would you excuse me until His Majesty requires my use?"
Neia, along with everyone else, was surprised when the response came, not from Albedo, but from a deep, regal voice that none could ever mistake or forget.
"That would be now."