God Rising: The Cult of Ainz
Written by: AtheistBasementDragon
Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots
Chapter 177: The Master of Death Cometh
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...
Ainz walked through the double doors, his steps long and strong, the low 'tink' sound in between each step as his staff's tip touched the floor, the table stood in deference to the host as he walked down the right side of the table, all the way to the head to take his place beside Albedo.
Enri and Neia had forgotten their antipathy for the moment, sharing common deference to the same undead savior of their lives.
"I do apologize for being so inconsiderate a host that I could not greet you all personally, and that I kept you waiting as well, but... perhaps you've noticed that there's a war on." He chuckled at his own joke, but nobody laughed.
'Seriously, why does nobody get jokes in this world?!' He wondered as he made his way to the head of the table.
The assembled host waited until he reached his position and he released his staff. It floated beside him, a constant testament to his powerful magic. he clapped his hands together, and to the shock of those who heard it, the sound was that of living flesh instead of clacking bones. "Now, to the reason for my delay. Queen Draudillon, I regret to inform you that I received a report from General Musan, General Oma has been assassinated. Her tent had too much blood for her to have survived, and her body was taken. I sent agents in pursuit to help General Musan, but all they found was a large fire-blackened place where they must have destroyed her corpse in a small clearing in some nearby woods. Her ashes were scattered to the winds, leaving nothing behind. A handful of men were killed attempting to assassinate General Musan as well. They were armed and dressed in the fashion of the Agante, we can only surmise that her killers were part of that same group."
His sonorous voice was quiet and solemn, and the implications were lost on few. For those that were lost as to the significance of their assassins actions, Albedo spoke up. "No doubt this was done to prevent her resurrection, the fools." She spoke with the serenity of the indifferent, but Queen Draudillon was on the verge of tears with rage.
"For those who do not know," Ainz continued with distaste in his voice, "the Agante are a military intelligence wing of the Slane Theocracy that is heavily decentralized, with individuals and small numbers communicating only loosely and in isolation, they focus on actions that destabilize areas. They were behind the attempt on Chindai's life, and perhaps the lives of his wives, and supported the coalition against him that he later defeated to unite the Dark Elf Kingdom. While they are not champions of humanity, they are its venom, even though they are not as powerful as the scriptures in combat, from what I have heard, they are skilled in groups, and of course, a person asleep can do little to protect their throat from a knife in the darkness."
Draudillon gritted her teeth. "How dare they... no... I shouldn't be surprised after what I've already seen them do... But General Oma is important, the next in line is not ready for the task, General Musan's workload is already enormous, it will be very difficult for him to manage both divisions..." Her voice was shaking, her eyes focused on the table beneath her as she became hyperfocused and tried to force her grief down. 'How did they bribe my people? How did they extort them? I can barely believe it but... it must be so! When I return, I will launch formal investigations into temple ties, I'll bet my last coin that any traitor is closely tied to the worship of the old gods.'
"Yes, Albedo is precisely correct, what they do not know however, is always the most dangerous thing. Which they're about to find out, forty thousand and one times over." Ainz said with a serenity on par with Albedo's indifference, and numerous eyes went to him with interest.
"I am the master of death," Ainz said patiently, "so to me these are just alternate states of being, perhaps to the weak fifth tier limitations they know best, there is nothing I 'should' be able to do to restore her to life without a body." He had no lips, but there was an aura that could only be described as a 'clever smile' coming off of him as he raised his skeletal hand and pointed to Calca.
"Would you like to explain, Queen Calca?" He asked as he caught the understanding on her face that was revealed by the little 'o' her lips formed and the widening of her eyes.
"After I... died, I'm told that my people had sought my resurrection. But they refused when he informed them that without a body, there was a chance I might not come back the... way they knew me. I would surmise that the Slane Theocracy never learned that His Majesty is not bound by such limitations as requiring a body at all."
Eyes became like saucers up and down the table as the revelation of the raw power of his magic swept through their consciousness. Queen Draudillon's eyes lit up with hope.
"Of course, General Oma was 'your' servant first and foremost." Ainz said to the Draconic Queen, "You knew her best, will she return to serve you willingly, no matter what the cost? Will you accept her, regardless? Do you want her back?"
Draudillon immediately kicked the chair back out of her way so hard that it fell backwards and fell hard enough to the floor that its clatter echoed for several seconds. She prostrated herself with her head close to his feet. "I knew her well, she would never willingly be parted from... her duty. She will come back, and I will accept her, no matter what!" She said loudly and with conviction.
"I see." Ainz said, and drew a wand from his robe. He pointed it to a space a few feet away from the table, and people turned or craned to watch the impossible be made trivial. [True Resurrection.]
The whorling shadows and clouds that sprung up would never leave the minds of those who saw it happen, tendrils like dark tentacles rose from the floor and formed the outline of a body. Sweat rose on the brows of those who were capable of sweating, the little droplets seemed to mark the passage of time as they trickled down faces, hands trembled and nobody cared, eyes bulged as a miracle took place before their eyes. Only two smiled. Lady Albedo, who had only a supremely cocky smile, and Neia Baraja, whose face was alight with pride.
Then the miracle ended as the shadow faded and naked flesh became visible.
The pale skin of General Oma had a faint blue tint to it, and her head was... not connected to her body.
"She's... still dead. And I was..." Queen Draudillon started to say, then stopped mid sentence when the head blinked.
Ainz reached his hand into the air, opening his pocket dimension, he drew out a cloak and flung it over the naked body of General Oma.
"Where am I? Why am I... was I naked? Her eyes darted around and she tried to turn her head, only to find that it wasn't moving. "Why can't I turn my head?" She asked with her anxiety increasing as one question bled into another until her head fell to one side and she found herself facing the table. "My Queen, Your Majesty ah... someone, please! Please tell me what's happening!" She began to panic, her eyes widening as the mystery deepened.
"I will explain." The Sorcerer King said as he stepped away from his place and moved in between her and the rest of the table. "You were killed last night, the assassins stole and burned your body to keep you from being restored, but I am unbound by such trivial concerns, so you are... in a word, back. But... as a consequence, you're an undead. Specifically, you're a dullahan. You can remove your head and carry it around, or move your body independently of it. A very impressive dullahan too, really." He said encouragingly, "But before you can control yourself entirely, you'll need help just this once, after that, you'll have complete rule over your flesh." He said, and looked over his shoulder, "Queen Draudillon, this task should be for you, come here."
She scurried over as fast as she could until she was kneeling beside them. "Sire, tell me what to do?" The Queen asked with eyes darting back and forth between the two undead.
"Take her head in hand, and connect it to her neck, this will reforge the connection and make it permanent." Ainz explained as he gestured to where her head lay.
"My Queen..." General Oma said with a reverential devotion, as Queen Draudillon, with shaking fingers, took the head of her subordinate in hand and held her up to eye level for a moment.
"Good to have you back, General Oma, ready to even the score?" She smiled crookedly, and Oma returned that smile and flashed fangs she hadn't had before.
"A thousand times over, My Queen, now... can I have my body back so I can kneel properly to you?" She asked sweetly with a slight curl to her lips that made her smile sweet, resolute, and eager all at once.
Draudillon blushed a little, then lowered the head to where her neck was, and put it into place, it connected easily, and General Oma began to move her arms and legs experimentally. "Well, it works but... being undead... not what I expected. What exactly 'is' a dullahan?" She asked as she started to sit up, gratefully flashing a smile to the Sorcerer King as she wrapped the cloak around her body.
"A harvester of lives, perhaps you restored to this state because of your profession as a general, in ancient stories, the Dullahan would ride in a wagon of bones and harvest the souls of the living due to die. How powerful you may become, remains to be seen, but a better description of a General, I cannot name." Ainz explained with a 'partial lie', and rose to his feet.
Oma went to one knee and bowed her head deeply, "I am grateful for my restoration, and... while this body feels very different, I confess it feels..." She took a deep breath that she no longer needed, "fantastic. But... might I ask for some clothing? It feels... a little drafty right now." She said with an amused smile and a slight rose flush coming to her cheeks. The Sorcerer King pointed to one of the servants and gestured her to General Oma, who was escorted away to dress, but he did not break his stride otherwise, or lose control over his audience.
"Now then..." Ainz looked to the Guardian Overseer, "Albedo, the mirror. Let them see."
"My Lord." She bowed her head deeply in acknowledgement and strode purposefully from the room, returning only a moment later with the Mirror of Remote Viewing. She erected it at the head of the table, and as the leaders of the world looked on, tension grew in the bodies of the great as their many eyes focused solely upon the actions of the radiant succubus.
Neia though, had eyes only for the Sorcerer King, 'A gathering of power here like the world has never seen, yet any ignorant one from anywhere could enter, and they would not have to ask who rules here.' Goosebumps conquered her flesh as she watched his miracles unravel as if they were trivial chores, Neia's eyes watered while he called Draudillon over to tend her loyal servant, and that did not change as the two stood up after expressing their gratitude.
Ainz turned back to the assembly, his boney fingers formed a pyramid, and he radiated malice, shadows flew from him as if frightened. As the shadows fled, they raced over the faces of the delegates, who felt the cold touch of the grave racing over exposed skin. The most disciplined kept their shudders to themselves, but most... did not, or could not. "Now, there is a price for everything, and consequences apply to all. Today, this means I owe the Slane Theocracy abundant pain. They have an army of forty thousand, this group is made up of disgraced nobles, criminals, expelled magic students, humans considered disposable even by the standards of the Slane Theocracy. They have been marching east to prevent Queen Draudillon from going west, but they reversed course to join with their comrades and take advantage of the uprising in the North."
Enri shuffled her feet and looked down at them unhappily as her army's condition was described. "Sire, I promise order will be restored soon..." She said urgently, only to stop as the Sorcerer King waved it away.
"It doesn't matter, they only expose the rebellious elements when it is most convenient to crush them, better now when an army is present, than two years later when there isn't one." Ainz shrugged the matter off. "Besides, I can trust you to handle it. And if you have trouble, don't worry, I will send General Baraja to assist you."
The casual statement sent a shiver down Enri's spine as she imagined just how far the Black Paladin would go. 'Is he promising me help or threatening my conscience to motivate me... is there even a difference? Is he telling me there is value in what she does?' She fretted over the unspoken questions, but could not bring herself to speak them, she only nodded numbly and kept her head bowed in deference.
"Regardless, they will not reach their destination." He looked to the door as Oma returned fully dressed, "Pope Neia, General Oma, follow me, the rest... watch the mirror." Ainz said as he pointed dramatically to the priceless artifact, before stepping through the [Gate], followed by the two commanders.
The snow crunched underfoot as the trio stepped out of Forton and into the snow around them. Flakes fell as gracefully as rose petals to the ground. Trees surrounded them, and shining high sun reflected brightly off the pure white ground. Evergreen trees cast shade not only from the trunks, but from the snowy canopies that were made when flakes bunched together in the thick, high branches.
Neia watched as her breath made fog in front of her, and found that she was alone in doing so, General Oma fell in to the left of the Sorcerer King, and though her chest rose and fell, it seemed to be more the habit of her body than by the act of actually breathing. 'She's a pretty one too... no, bad Neia, what's with you?! Focus on business!' She thought to herself and let happiness fill her as she enjoyed being in the company of the Sorcerer King.
"This way." He said succinctly and stepped forward, the two followed the crunch of snow underfoot was almost the only sound to disturb the tranquility around them for several minutes, but as they walked, Neia gradually heard the sound of a much greater and very well known sound, the sound of many marching feet.
Though she and General Oma traded glances, neither spoke until they stepped out of the clearing. Ainz raised his hand and pointed to the enormous column of tens of thousands marching eight abreast. Many rode on expensive warhorses, and behind all that was a long wagon train.
Their eyes followed where he pointed, until his finger pointed far ahead of the column. "There comes one man, he and he alone will live to bear witness to this, whether he is a scout, a lost one, or what, does not matter, what does matter is that he carries word of this that reaches Kami Miyako, and know two things, first that there is a price for assassinating those who lead under my rule, and second... that they cannot succeed anyway." His voice was even and calm, but long familiarity showed with the subtle finality of his movements that he was a being full of wrath.
"I take it I am to announce their deaths?" Neia asked as she clapped her hands together and rubbed them together.
"You are." Ainz confirmed with a slow nod. "And General Oma, you will announce your resurrection, then ride to return to General Musan, it won't take you long, at least not on your mount."
"Sire... pardon me, but... my mount?" She asked and scratched her head, from which hair, long and white, hung gracefully and straight.
"You are a dullahan, your skills include the ability to summon a mount. Focus within yourself, you should gain a feel for your new gifts." Ainz patiently said to her, as he watched the army march on the road at the base of the hill on which they stood. General Oma kept her eyes closed for a moment as she obeyed his command.
"Reaping..." She whispered, and a scythe took shape in her hand. Long and curved as a farming implement, she felt power coursing through her body, it seemed to have no weight, despite being taller than she and having a large, long curved head. "Summon mount." She whispered, and a black hole opened up in the ground beside her, and a black horse with red eyes, thickly muscled and exuding hot black smoke from his body, nickered and neighed beside her, its large, heavy hooves brought smoke and steam from the ground and the snow melted where it touched. She put a gentle, pale blue hand to his snout, "Nice to meet you too, Ichabod."
"Ichabod?" Neia asked curiously.
"It's his name, don't ask how I know, it simply 'is'." Oma shrugged it off.
Someone finally caught sight of the three on the hill, and an alarm began to sound.
"It is time." Ainz said formally and laid his hand on Neia's shoulder. "Announce it, give them fear, tell them why they die, and then I will bring death to them."
"My Lord!" Neia responded loudly, her eyes filled with the darkness that marked or marred her. All thoughts and troubles faded away to nothing as she took up the mantle of being her lord's herald, and her voice echoed over the open ground, "Death comes to you, Army of the Slane Theocracy! Cowards! Curs! Fools! Your agents struck down General Oma of the Draconic Kingdom, in the way of cowards, in the darkness and shadow. Fearing her in the day, you took a hero's life from her Queen in the night! Now she has been restored!" Neia fairly glowed with holy light, ecstatic in the power of the moment, she fell to her knees in reverence for her sacred duty as the voice of her class shattered even the tumult and panic below, even down to the thundering of forty thousand pounding hearts. Her arm outstretched and finger pointed to the pale blue woman.
General Oma mounted her horse, and reaching up, plucked her head from her shoulders and held it up for all to see. The horse reared back, its enormous hooves kicking outward, and from its mouth came not the whinny of a beast, but a death scream that left fear in those who heard it.
"To strike down the living servants of our lord, is to raise undead ones in their stead!" Neia did not need to shout, her call was calm, but it reverberated over the field such that it shook the branches of the trees beyond the army and the snow fell to the ground as if struck dead.
"Now know the truth of what you have unleashed, and know death comes for you and all behind you!" She could barely restrain a laugh as she fell silent and turned to look up at the Sorcerer King. "Father, I believe they begin to understand."
Down below, soldiers struggled to restrain frightened horses... and themselves, as terror began to take hold of their hearts.
Ainz stepped forward, putting them a pace behind him. "Do not move from where you are." He instructed them, then he spread his arms before him and asked Neia quietly, "Do you know what the goal of all life is?"
"For me, it is service." She replied humbly, 'No matter what the price.' She added within her own mind.
'Good, perfect cover for using this.' Ainz thought to himself, then said in a noble voice, "No..." he pointed to the terror-stricken soldiers and finished, [Skill... The Goal of All Life is Death]. Having said 'skill' so softly that nobody, not even the undead beside him, could hear it, he then firmly and loudly cast the spell, [Maw of Ammit].
A great and terrible energy went out, sweeping the field, and a gigantic clock gear manifested behind the Sorcerer King which audibly ticked down the seconds, while those seconds led only to more chaos below as the fear caused some to die before the magic itself as they were kicked or trampled by horses or their fellow soldiers. And the world died.
Ramka looked around in a panic, soldiers were running left and right, units forming up wherever they could as the terrible voice shattered the backbone of their resolve and pronounced their doom. Though but three stood upon a hill, it wilted the courage of his tens of thousands of comrades. 'Oma? Who is Oma?' He wondered, at a loss as to why anyone would give a damn about one assassination. "Screw it!" He shouted as someone hammered into his shoulder and knocked him aside in a desperate bid to abandon their position, a horse screamed in the pitiable way animals do as the man atop it kicked his heels hard into the terrorized beast in an attempt to ride it to safety. Ramka dove out of the way as the pounding voice finished its dark pronouncement.
His heart pounded in his chest, he felt his breath come hard and fast as someone pushed him hard as he staggered and he fell to the ground. 'Home, I want to go home... oh gods, how did I end up here? How?! All I took was one damn chicken!" He felt a kick to his ribs, and winced in pain as they cracked from the force as the person tripped on his body. But that at least gave him a moment to start to rise, he pushed himself up from the ground, and just got to his knees when he saw it.
'No... what the hell is that?! Gods preserve us! Gods preserve us! Gods preserve us!' He screamed in his mind as an enormous black maw seemed to rise from the ground itself, jagged shadows shaped like teeth blotted out the sky as it moved over the army from the front to the back. A brief memory came to him, of his childhood, seeing a serpent unhinge its jaw and swallow an enormous rat. 'So this is what it was like for the rat...' Ramka thought in a flash of clarity before he got to his feet, threw aside his shield and helmet, then tried to run for the 'edge' the side of the shadow mouth. But to his horror, he found himself, his fellows and everything being sucked back to the maw. He fell down on the ground, desperately clawing through the slippery snow. 'No! No! NO! I want to go home! I want to go home! I want...' Then the shadow closed, and he didn't want anything anymore, as he and all his army, ceased to exist at all.
...Great Conference of Forton...
"By the gods under the hills..." The Troll Kingdom ambassador whispered as he looked through the mirror. An enormous blackness captured all the world, or seemed to from where onlookers could see, it covered the field, many times darker than the span between the night stars, it engulfed the marching host. It fell over the living along the road and swept over the entire army, and as the darkness faded... the bodies became as one with the shadows cast by the power of the king, then broke away and drifted into nothingness, like ash carried off when paper was burned and still left with clinging embers to devour the remainder.
When the endless black was gone, so was the army, soldiers, their equipment, horses, wagons, even the trees and grass were gone where the shadow of death had touched, only impressions of everything that had been, remained to show that they had been there at all.
"He... pointed to them... and they died... no... they disappeared... erased from existence itself. No... bodies, no equipment, the land is just swept clean of life..." Esgas muttered in a daze as he looked around at the other guests, a bit relieved to see that they were showing the same reaction.
'So... this is what it felt like for General Nimble...' Jircniv thought as he rubbed his eyes furtively. 'Seeing is not believing, because I see it... and I still can't believe it...' He shut his eyes and silently blessed whichever ancestor had led him to inherit the wisdom to surrender his Empire to the Sorcerer King, before he became a hindrance instead of an asset.
...Slane Theocracy's army...Massacre Site...
"The goal of all life... is Death..." Neia whispered to herself in a daze. 'Never will I forget that.' She promised as she looked out over the now empty field, devoid of the snow.
"Completely erased..." General Oma muttered in awe, and to her right, Neia began to applaud enthusiastically.
Across the field, the lone survivor watched as the army he was to join was wiped from existence, erased as if by the will of the gods. "By the... No... how...?" General Boabdil wondered aloud, he rubbed his eyes over and over again, raising his hands, then lowering them to look again each time as if sure he must have imagined it. When he finally accepted the horrible emptiness, he got down off his horse and fell to his knees with his arms out, hands far from his body, he wept for the dead who did not even have bodies left to bury, and cast his eyes to the cold and uncaring sky where he'd lived his life thinking that the gods watched over his people. "Why?! Where are you?! Where are you now?! Please! Please! Bring them back! We're you're children?! Your faithful! Did you choose us, just to leave us to this?! Do you not love us?! Then save us! Do something! Please! No more! No more!" He screamed until he was hoarse, and could scream no more, like a victim of torture who had broken under the lash of their tormentor.
When his rage was drained and only a sad state of childlike incomprehension, he fell forward into the snow. The cold cut into his hands and sapped his strength, the frozen wind carried past his body as if it were carrying away what hope he still had left to himself, until he slumped into the ground and felt the cold spread where the snow touched his cheek. "Damn you... damn you all..." He barely managed to whisper the words, and he did not look to the sky again.
'I don't want to get up. I don't want to get up. I don't want to get up. I don't want to move, it's useless, it's all useless, we never had a chance at all... we kill their generals, they come back as undead, we fight their armies, they bring dragons. We raise champions to fight, and they bring champions of their own, while also taking ours away from us. We draw on our priests and paladins... they create paladins of black and red and a pope who breaks our will with her voice... We call on the gods... they bring out a god to crush our cries for help... I don't want to do this anymore...' He thought as his tears froze against his face. The General did not have the strength to pound his fist in frustration. He felt too heavy to move, and every snowflake that covered him bore the weight of a mountain where it landed.
Ainz looked over to General Oma, "Before you go to your army, watch that one who lived, make sure he does not die, send him away alive to carry word of what happened here, then go and rejoin your own. I'm sure General Musan will be happy to have his workload lightened." He said somewhat teasingly.
"As you wish, divine one." General Oma put her head back on her body and nodded it humbly.
"Come along Neia, let's go back." Ainz said solemnly. 'Why does nobody ever laugh when I make a joke?' He wondered to himself as they walked away from General Oma and over to the [Gate] that appeared a few feet behind them.
At the great conference, Revered Speaker Esgas watched with fascination. His sky blue eyes were raptly held to the elegant mirror as it displayed the distant scene. 'What a useful means of keeping watch, with a legion of those things, one could watch an entire country without ever setting foot over its borders. Have they turned it on our people?' He wondered and stroked his black bearded chin thoughtfully. Goosebumps rose afresh on his deep tan skin. 'Why reveal that they have something this useful though... unless they want us to know or... just don't care because it is trivial to them?' He wondered further, no answer seemed satisfactory, and for most of them, he swallowed hard as he considered the possibilities.
All that was wiped away, they heard no sound, but whatever the pope had said had sent chaos into forty thousand, and then... under Albedo's control, the view of the mirror swept over the entirety of the assembled host... and Esgas watched them disappear like they had never existed. His tanned skin paled, nor was he the only one. 'By the Wyvern Maker... how is such a thing possible...?' He looked to his left and craned his neck to look up at the Troll Kingdom Ambassador's face. 'We might not always have been on the best terms, his kingdom and ours, but in this we are united. We must not bring such wrath down upon our peoples.' The troll's gray skin went a little bit whiter, and he swallowed loud enough for a number of his neighbors to have heard him.
Ambassador Gran felt the Revered Speaker look up at him as he'd swallowed. He lowered his eyes away from the mirror to exchange a look, his hazel eyes locked on sky blue, and they shared a moment of understanding. 'Our armies together are perhaps two hundred thousand, between my trolls and his wyverns and supporting infantry... if the stories are true then the undead has at least two spells... if that even was a spell... that can utterly destroy us. Worse, we can't even get rid of his subordinates because he'll raise them as legendary undead! I had hoped to find some weakness in this new western order but instead... I find a warning we must all heed.' His thoughts raced as fast as stones rolling down a mountain, only to be stopped short.
Queen Draudillon was completely relaxed, though the smile that formed on her lips was just a little bitter. 'Had my wild magic possessed that kind of power, I could have saved my nation in a day instead of dying by inches. For that matter, he did it without sacrificing a soul... amazing, beautiful, wonderful, terrible... but under his rule... we are secure at last. Yet... I find I envy him not a little, having that kind of power.' She reached for her cup and brought it to her lips, and savored the taste of juice instead of wine.
'Damn, no kill like overkill.' Zesshi thought to herself and smirked at the destruction of the nation that had betrayed her, 'So that's the power that had the cardinals shitting their robes, no wonder... but it makes their war all the more suicidal. Well, at least I ended up eating dirt by way of that dark elf boy instead of facing... well... that.'
"Fear not," Albedo said sweetly, she covered her mouth with one oh-so dainty-looking hand, and giggled cryptically from behind it, "my Lord has not used his greatest powers, he has limited himself severely since he was only destroying one small army, you are perfectly safe 'here'." When the Guardian Overseer ceased to speak and ceased to giggle, she let her hand rest at her side and gave them a warm and matronly expression as her golden eyes shone like the sun.
But from the Karnassus City State Alliance to the Minotaur Kingdom and everywhere in between, it drove their thoughts into abject pandemonium. They dared not move, cry out, or speak as the Sorcerer King returned with the Black Paladin. Radiant black eyes remained fixed forward as his living weapon in the war of words walked to her place at the table across from General Enri.
She did not even try to suppress the shadow that lived in her eyes. 'If I am bound to speak for death, then so be it, you wanted me to look at you, General Enri? Very well, but only a fool asks the abyss to look into them.' She thought to herself, but this time, General Enri did not look at her.
Enri's thoughts were in a tumult of doubt and self recrimination as she looked to avoid the eyes she'd so recently demanded face her. 'Forty thousand... OK, they were soldiers... but... damn it, am I the hypocrite here? How many dead by my orders? Maybe... maybe I was too hard on her? But the deaths of all those people... civilians... is that really the best way? Who the hell says they'll hang themselves?! Who says 'anything' like that? Is she right, is it the only way? Am I hiding from my responsibility so I can sleep at night? I know what Lupu is, I have to know what she's doing, am I just pretending I'm not responsible so I can play the good guy...? Who can I even talk to about this? Not Lupusregina, friend or not, she'd never understand this sort of thing... there is... one, who might, damnit...'
Without looking up, Enri quietly said, "General Baraja... can I ask you for a favor?"
This caught Neia off guard, the voice of the peasant general was like a trembling leaf, 'No, did I... no, I don't think I hurt her too... shit what the hell is she going to ask for... wait, did I use my evangelism against her without knowing it? No... yes... aw hell, better answer!' She thought in a rush, and nodded once, saw that her opposite number still hadn't looked up. 'Oh.' Neia thought.
"Yes, General Enri?" Neia asked quietly and pushed the blackness out of her eyes to restore them to their native blue.
"If you don't mind... I... I'd like to talk to Lady Lakyus. Do you think you could ask her to come here, and maybe ask that she be gated? It is important." Enri stumbled over the words, unsure of how they were received, she forced herself to look up, and found the deep abyss was gone from the woman in front of her.
"Yes, of course." Neia said to her curiously,. 'Is she going to talk about me? Is she going to try to turn my friends against me? No... she wouldn't do that, would she? Would she? No help for it, I already said yes, I'll just... discreetly inquire later...'
"With this, the Slane Theocracy has only one martial force remaining, save for a few minor fortifications, village militias, and the city defense forces. Total, all gathered together, they number maybe thirty thousand. With the one remaining army of the North, they are perhaps ninety thousand strong, and their remaining elites among the scriptures are countable with your hands even if you were missing a few fingers." Ainz said as he drew himself to his full height, and the table went silent.
Ainz let his glowing red eyes pass over each attendee. 'Remember, eye contact is key to sales, they've just seen the stick, now to show them the carrot, a chance to avoid the stick more easily.' He thought to himself, and began.
"So now with that said, and the inevitable now clear to all, we will commence with the true purpose of the Forton Conference, laying out the state of the postwar world, between my people, and our neighbors. So that all may know where we stand in all things, and so that no 'misunderstanding' leads to needless war."
He let his eyes travel to them again, watching faces for expressions of curiosity or interest living alongside the fear they had no doubt just experienced in the last hour, seeing the 'accidental' creation of a 'legendary undead' and the destruction of an army in the span of seconds. They were focused, that was clear, their eyes did not waver from him even a little from the time of his return to the moment the mirror was moved aside and he took his place at the head of the table once more.
"I would first propose that we establish an international council of permanently stationed diplomats, where all kingdoms are represented all year round and issues resolved peaceably, that the wastefulness of war does not become inevitable." Ainz said, stretching out his right hand as if to take theirs within his, and drawing his left to himself, "I value tranquility and peace, artistry and accomplishments, the chaos of war and mindless destruction are anathema to me. It is because my people and I were drawn back to this world from our long contemplations and our work within our home by those who sought to steal from us, that I have come to realize we could not ignore the world forever as we had..."
Jircniv bit his lip sharply, 'I wonder where the world would be now, had I not drawn him out into it again?' Some faces around him looked confused, uncertain, a few glanced to him, seeing his discomfort and surmising he played a role in it all.
Ainz ignored this byplay and moved on, "So to that end, we should create a venue where all may bring their issues to the fore, publicly, and create a system of 'international laws' by which all will abide and by which all are held accountable. This recent war has left many lessons that we may apply to the new standards, and I would like to propose a few of those now... do I have your ears further? Raise your hand if this proposal holds your
interest at the very least." He polled for the vote and watched hands go up.