God Rising: The Cult of Ainz
Written by: AtheistBasementDragon
Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots
Chapter 196: Why is Treason Never Successful
...Northwest of the Ashes of Wheaton...
Sweat was a constant. Perfect Spring or Winter Chill, for a soldier, sweat was an intimate friend and a frustrating nemesis. Neia wiped her brow for what felt like the hundredth time and whipped her hand away, casting off the sweat into the muck beside her.
"Thank goodness for cleansing magic, right?" Skana said at her right hand as they swayed slightly left and right atop their undead horses. She smiled sincerely under the pale light of the moon.
"Too right, and though I'd prefer a hot bath, it's better than nothing." Neia answered genuinely.
"You could have asked for armor that kept you clean, or a gambosen at least, with that enchantment." Lakyus asked thoughtfully from Neia's left.
"I guess, but that would have been a waste of an enchantment, we can only have so many, and it would have been pointlessly vain of me to ask for something like that." Neia said in a slightly reproving voice.
Lakyus was quiet for a moment before she went on, "It's OK, you know." She said gently.
"What is?" Neia asked as she scanned the darkness in front of her.
"To be a little bit selfish sometimes. To want things for yourself, and ask for them. I would daresay it would be unhealthy to 'not' be a little bit selfish, to 'not' seek after your own wants sometimes. You can't 'give' forever before running out of yourself. Your spirit will grow weary, exhausted, dried out. Your heart will ache and perhaps even break if all you do is give things without ever accepting them." Lakyus spoke with confidence, and seemed again every inch the priestess that Neia knew.
It made the pope smile with a rare warmth. "Maybe you're right, but I have more than most already." She reached out and squeezed her wife's hand tightly for a moment. "I can't ask for more until I've given the world back the peace that was taken from her."
Lakyus gently inclined her head to acknowledge the clear affection, while Skana beamed with shameless happiness. Then went on with gentle concern. "I suppose, but you the individual is not the same as you the wife, you need to look after the part of you that is uniquely yourself as well."
"Why are you saying this?" Neia asked her quietly. "Is it because of what happened with Gagaran?"
"Yeah, what's her problem, anyway?" Skana asked with more evident displeasure, and a hint of anger in her voice.
Lakyus bit her lip as if to keep back her words. "I'm saying this out of concern for you, Neia. You're my friend. People like me, people like 'us' have a lot of admirers, but fewer peers and even fewer friends. We fought together, marched together, serve the same king, we've eaten together, drank together, and you helped me out in more ways than you can ever know. Giving my sister not just a world she can be herself in, but talking me through my own difficult acceptance of it all. I love you for it, 'that' is why I say these things. Because I see what's happening, and you are not who you were when we first met."
Neia and Skana both lowered their heads, "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you." Skana answered.
"It's alright," Lakyus said in the kindly voice of a priestess, but kept her eyes on Neia, "I just want the future to be a good one, for all of us."
"Of course I'm different." Neia finally answered, "I've had to become different, who I was before... she wasn't enough. She was naive, she was trusting, she believed that good people would stop doing bad things if you showed them they were wrong. Maybe it was even true... sometimes. Ignorance often leads to evil. But more often, I ended up letting someone else pay the price for my own stupid self righteousness. My conscience made me a coward in the face of necessity, so I've wrapped it up in chains and locked it away, so I can do everything that needs to be done." Neia's voice was hollow, and though she wasn't loud and it didn't reverberate to the army, Lakyus felt the conviction of her friend pounded into her soul.
"What about after?" Lakyus asked her, inching her horse closer to Neia.
"After?" Neia asked as if she'd never heard the word.
Lakyus opened her mouth to speak, but before any sound could come out, a shout behind them drew her attention. "Hey, General Neia, we've got a problem!" Queen Zesshi said as she trotted up on her horse.
Neia's eyes shifted focus immediately. "What?" She asked abruptly, as the half elf monarch came up.
"Some of the scouts have come across villages that are still intact, and they've got militias out, I guess they saw the fire, or someone did and told them about it. But anyway all the scouts tell us the same story, a bunch of peasants are in the way of the line of march." Zesshi said brusquely, indifferent to the lack of title or deference from the Pope.
"How are they armed, do they have any evident training or effective leadership?" Neia asked swiftly.
"Farm implements, bows, a few rusty swords. Maybe a thousand altogether, but spread out over a number of locations. Leadership seems to be mainly by the priests and priestesses." Zesshi said contemptuously. "We can sweep them aside like they're not even there, and wipe out the villages with only a slight delay. What would you like us to do?"
Neia's eyes were focused ahead into the darkness, behind her, the many torches made the shadows of her, her horse, and those of her companions, dance along the long dirt road. She said nothing at first as she thought it over.
"Neia..." Lakyus said tentatively, followed quickly by the voice of Neia's wife.
"They're peasants... like me, just protecting their families." Skana snatched Neia's hand, and her chin, and forced the Black Paladin to look at her. "You're not back there, this isn't Prart, or Wenmark, or Yanana, or Hoburns, or Wheaton, or the fortresses, or the Southern Road... or Kedyn, or anywhere else... don't do it." Skana urged, locking eyes with the fearsome black that drove away the blue she loved in the eyes of the Scourge of God.
"It's your decision." Zesshi said bluntly, "My elves would be happy to erase the entire Theocracy. But whatever you think best."
Neia looked behind her where the bouncing lights of torches cast their light everywhere, 'Somewhere back there, Sebas and Tuare ride side by side. I suppose I should start to repay my debt.' She thought to herself.
"I've made my decision. Where is Queen Draudillon?" Neia asked deliberately.
"She's talking with General Oma and General Musan, planning for the 'post war life' I think she said." Zesshi answered.
On hearing that, Neia gave a bitter sweet smile and spat her orders as fast as she normally loosed arrows. "Alright, have her send five hundred mounted soldiers to every village. Occupy them. Capture every priest and remove them, execute anyone still holding slaves, including overseers or breakers, unless a slave objects, in which case further investigation is needed. Also, take the children hostage to the good behavior of the village. Anyone presently in the village who doesn't live there is to be arrested, or killed if they resist, anyone attempting to leave is to be prevented from doing so, even if it means killing them. No leaving without a permit from whoever is in command, until the soldiers are recalled. Anyone caught holding a bow or a sword is to be killed after giving them one chance to surrender. I want a full census of every village. Also, their goods, property, and bodies are to be respected. Any soldier who so much as confiscates a villager's hat is to be publicly hanged as a thief. Anyone caught assaulting a village girl or boy... tell them we'll let the demoness who went to Yaksun have them. Ensure that none of the dispatched soldiers are elves."
"Stern measures. But... it will keep many alive." Lakyus remarked with relief on her face, Skana, who had held her breath, exhaled loudly and put her hand to her breastplate, as equally relieved as Lakyus.
"That will be good enough. But really, taking their children hostage?" Skana asked, "Would you really kill them?" She asked anxiously as her heart skipped a beat.
Neia shook her head, "I've killed children before but... that was necessity, this wouldn't be, so I won't. These measures may seem cruel, and maybe they are, but 'hostage' here simply means they won't be returned. I'll have them raised in the temples or fostered out to the Northern Holy Kingdom to our worshipers there. If they want their children back, all they have to do is submit and obey, if they don't want them back after the war, all they have to do is pick up a sword." She shrugged indifferently, "It's really up to them."
"You got it." Zesshi said casually.
"Oh and Zesshi?" Neia asked as the half elf turned around to ride back.
"Yes?" She inquired, turning to look back at Neia again.
"I know I'm in command of our combined armies but... you can send a messenger, you ought to get used to having just short of absolute power." Neia said with amusement.
"I suppose I should. Still feels bizarre to be a Queen." The half elf replied with a fitting little half smile tilting up towards the white half of her hair. "I'll send a messenger to her."
"Good, then why don't you join us after, I'm going to have us make camp for the night, tomorrow will be a long day. As Lakyus just pointed out, people in positions like ours have admirers aplenty, but few peers and fewer friends, I'd like to think we qualify as the latter if nothing else." Neia remarked with a wink that caught the half elf off guard.
"I'd like that." Queen Zesshi said pleasantly after a moment, and rode off to have the orders passed on.
When the half elf was gone Neia raised the horn that dangled at her chest, and blew the signal to halt. The curved horn blew long and loud, and the combined armies ground to a halt, orders were barked up and down a line that stretched over four miles long with horses, baggage, supplies, and its civilian corps of skilled laborers.
Noise in a camp was like sweat on the march, expected, normal, and so common that eventually the veteran campaigner filtered it out as mere background ambiance. No different than crickets or birdsong. So it was when Neia sat around the table with two Queens, her wife, two powerful generals, and a legendary adventurer. The constant walking by their private dining tent was muffled by the cloth, but even for that, their trained ears focused on those around them as elf volunteers served wine, beer, and a rich stew with hard bread.
"It's really happening, isn't it?" Neia asked joyfully.
"Yes, for all the loss, all the heartache, all the trials and struggles... it's really almost over. I'll be able to bury the head of our messenger with his body, and return to a normal life as the ruler of a recovering nation." Queen Draudillon said happily.
"Yes, and I'm happy about that, but I never got my question answered before." Skana said with a slight frown as she dunked her bread into her stew and swirled it around.
"Question?" Neia asked as she tried and failed to remember it.
"Yes. Lakyus, what is Gagaran's problem? Everytime she looks at Neia, she looks angry, bitter, what's her deal?" Skana asked, fixing her green eye on the blonde beautiful adventurer.
Lakyus held out her cup, and a gentle faced elf girl poured red wine into it before moving on to Neia. She set the cup down and dipped a crust of bread into it as she answered. "Wheaton is the problem. She's still bothered by what she saw, what she did. You have to understand, Gagaran is a woman very in touch with how she feels, her passion helped shape her into the warrior that she is. But Neia's skill turned that passion against her, turned her into a berserker. She's angry as a result. She'll get over it." Lakyus explained patiently and then took up her cup of wine and drank with uncharacteristic depth, rather than slow and dignified sips.
"That's not exactly fair." Zesshi said with a small reproving frown. "I heard the same voice, and I didn't respond in any way but how I wanted."
Lakyus shrugged at the reply, "I heard it too, but while I felt the call to atrocity... I wasn't bound to it. Perhaps I was too strong to be influenced? Or perhaps I'm just so used to fighting against the attempts of my sword to capture my soul, that I had some inherent resistance... or it could be my priestly training?" She turned the matter over as she ate, but Neia's joyful expression melted like butter on hot bread.
'For the thousandth time I don't want your soul! All you have to do is swing me and I'm happy!' The sword shouted in her head from its place on her back.
'Be silent, demon sword! You'll not have me today! Or any day!' Lakyus spoke back to it in turn, her thoughts gritty and grim, despite her outer face to her companions.
"I see. I'm glad you two kept yourselves but... I wonder how many others didn't?" Neia went still, "Forgive me, I seem to have lost my appetite all of a sudden, I think I'll go read the day's dispatches from His Majesty and go to bed."
The pope rose and bowed to her friends, and made her escape before anyone could object.
"I really shouldn't have asked that. Not with her around." Skana said apologetically.
"That was probably ill timed, yes." General Oma said with gentle agreement.
"Oma..." General Musan remarked, "I think she already figured that out." He said somewhat reproachfully.
"Oh. Right. Sorry. Some things are harder to discern when you're like this. I don't think I can blush much, but rest assured I would if I could." She said and put her head on the table as if to make a point.
"You know, eventually there will be enough intelligent undead around that they'll have to work out a set of table manners expressly for this kind of thing, like a 'no putting your head on the table during dinner' or 'no rolling your head on the floor in a room where women are wearing skirts'." Queen Draudillon remarked with an amused smirk in the corner of her lip as she took a bite of bread.
For a moment there was silence as the room absorbed what she'd just said, just before they burst out laughing.
An hour and a half later, all laughter was stilled, and a wave of utter despair swept over every soul in the camp, so deep and morose, that none could even speak to acknowledge that it was felt at all, driving each of them to seek their rest in the hopes of never feeling it again.
...Kami Miyako...
"Good steel, go with the gods." Yvon said to the soldiers who had sworn themselves to him, the formation marched through the streets openly and proud, with bellies full of meat they moved through streets filled with the city's starving citizens. Hundreds of stamping feet sent the sound of their movement echoing out towards the setting sun as evening came over the capital of the human supremacist nation.
Eyes from the population followed them, but the pride that had swelled in the breasts of so many, and shone in eyes bright with confidence about their place in the world, was gone. Now hollow and desperate, bellies that were almost empty growled as if angry at the soldiers themselves.
The vacant, sunken looks of the many broken Slane Theocracy citizens from around the ruined nation did not have any emotion at all until it turned to curiosity. The formation's noise became louder and louder, far more than a patrol, and unprecedented since the conflict began.
On and on they marched until the soldiers in their numbers reached the manor of Cardinal Dominic. As one they stamped their feet and then pounded the butts of their halberds on the stone outside his great estate. The soldier at the head of the formation looked over his shoulder, "Seize the Cardinal! And seize any servants he has! Go!" he shouted, and war cries echoed from the thousand throats as the steel clad soldiers charged full tilt towards the building, the door was smashed, the windows were smashed, everywhere there was a gap, a soldier filled it, screams echoed within the manor at the sudden assault, only to be drowned out by the shouts and noise.
Inside his manor, Dominic smiled as Yarvin stood behind him on the upper floor. "Do it." He ordered.
"As you say, Master." Yarvin replied and picked up the candle near the back window, and snuffed it out, giving the signal.
As it died, torches sprang to life around the area as the Agante gave their signals, and from the rooftops at the other houses, figures who had lain in wait stood from their positions, drew bows, and fired into the ranks of the soldiers.
Men fell screaming, while others screamed in shock at the ambush to their ambush. Outside, the orders were quickly being barked to call for reinforcements, and those few armed with bows turned to fire up against those who held the high ground.
Inside the manor, Agante regulars jumped out of closets and pantries and attacked with abandon, black cloaks and long knives ambushed the ambushers within.
"What do you think, Yarvin?" Dominic asked as he stood up from where he sat.
"That you want to fight again, my lord." Yarvin replied calmly as he took up a sword from where it sat, and handed it hilt first out to Dominic.
"Correct, would you like to join me? Assuming you remember how, that is?" Dominic asked sardonically.
Yarvin bowed deeply, "My lord forgets, it was I who taught him, I would never forget how to protect you, not if I live to the ending of this world."
Dominic grinned, "May you die long before that, so that you can be rewarded by the gods by being born in human skin next time. Come along then, Yvon has invited us out to play, and it would be rude to keep his friends waiting."
"Master. You are as courteous as ever, I'm very proud of you." Yarvin remarked politely, and went to take up a sword and a knife of his own as they exited the room.
"As well you should be, I'm the Cardinal of Wind, it's time to remind Yvon what that means, and blow his forces away." Dominic's savage and malicious smile brought a laugh from his elven slave, and the two began to pick up the pace from a walk to a jog, then a dead run, catching the first soldiers by surprise.
[Gale Force] Dominic shouted and struck with a naked fist into the face of a soldier, and the man's head simply ceased to be... except for the large stain of blood, skull fragments, and brain matter that hit the wall and the face of the man behind him.
[Whirlwind] Yarvin whispered as he jumped the rail down below and spun his blade like a tornado, killing five soldiers five times before they even realized they were dead and hit the ground.
The soldiers of the Theocracy were not put off for long, and halberd met with long knife, brute force with agility, squad tactics for the battlefield met squad tactics for the raiding party. Yarvin shoved his sword into the throat of a human soldier as he protected the back of his master.
[Suffocate] Dominic snarled as he held out his hand and 'took' the air out of the lungs of a soldier that was about to run his halberd through an Agante regular that had been knocked onto his back. The bear of a man reached for his throat, straining to turn his head with fear filled eyes to see the threat so he might respond to it. Before he could suffocate, the Agante took his long knife up and shoved it through the warrior's eye and into his brain, ending his curiosity, and his life, forever.
Blood splattered along the walls as the Agante inside and out began to wreak a deadly toll on the soldiers of the capital.
The Agante elites that had lain in ambush beyond, fired their bows until they began to run out of arrows, and the soldiers down below began to receive reinforcements, chaos erupted in the streets as a torch, fallen or thrown, caught somewhere and the fire began to spread.
Screaming from citizens who struggled to escape as soldiers flooded the area and people ran out of their doors or even out of windows to escape the chaos, all but drowned out the sounds of violence. But even that could not drown out the sounds of flame and falling.
"You'll have to do better than this, Yvon!" Dominic shouted from an open window, and cast the head of a soldier contemptuously out into the street. Behind him, Yarvin flicked the blood from his sword and made 'sure' the soldiers could see that it was an elf holding a sword that had put down some of their brothers.
They stepped back into the manor as roars of outrage began again.
"I think I made them angrier than you did, Master." Yarvin said calmly.
"I think you did, I think, you, did. Very good. I don't know why Yvon chose to attack now rather than at night, but it's fine, it'll be dark soon, and my Agante rule the shadows of this city." Dominic said as they left the room and the soldiers began to throw torches into the manor to spread the fire.
"That's true, Master, but you know we can't hold out here forever, we need to get you to safety. I can stay behind and tell them you died in the fire somewhere." Yarvin said with calm reason as they moved through the hall awaiting the next onslaught.
"No, I'm not letting Yvon have you, he'll make you suffer, kill you, and feed you to his soldiers." Dominic said with equal calm.
"Your concern for me is noble, but I'll give him and his men the worst stomach ache of their lives, I promise you." Yarvin replied smartly.
Dominic managed a guttural laugh as they watched another pile of torches fly into the house and the sound of fighting dimmed outside. "My Agante elites are outmatched by numbers, they'll withdraw soon to preserve themselves. They'll hold for a few more hours, but I think I underestimated him, or overestimated the loyalty of the army."
"They'd abandon you, Master?!" Yarvin asked, his thin face stretched as his jaw opened in disbelief.
"No, they'll redeploy themselves. They fight to win, not to die gloriously. If that means running away and coming back later, then they'll do that." Dominic remarked as the sound of crashing and shouting in the distance told him some of the soldiers had come in through another entry and been caught by surprise again.
"So you should do the same, come, Master, let me put your clothes on a corpse, that will buy you precious hours. Cardinal Raymond will help you, and you can win tomorrow, just give me up today." Yarvin put his sword away and grasped Dominic's head in his hands and pressed his forehead to the Cardinal of Wind.
Dominic growled with suppressed fury and shut his eyes tight, "I don't want to lose you too. I had to lose them to elves, and now you abandon me? What is it with elves and hurting humans?" He asked in a cracked voice that was at once sardonic and sad.
Yarvin's voice was low and urgent, "No! Master I am not abandoning you, I'm doing what your parents would have wanted, to make sure you stay safe, I'll never abandon you, I'm doing my duty, and don't worry, they won't kill me right away, they'll realize soon that you escaped, and when they do, they'll want information. And you know nobody can cope with torture like I can." Yarvin gave a quivering smile and kissed Dominic's forehead, "Take the armor from one of the dead ones and slip away with a handful of the Agante, the rest of us will buy you time!"
"Fine... but lets fight on for awhile yet, throw them back a few times, drag the night out until they have no choice but to burn everything to ashes, I want Yvon to feel the cost of this one… and after that, you better stay alive until I can get you back!" Dominic said as he put a hand behind Yarvin's neck and squeezed affectionately.
The grip broke and Yarvin shouted for the Agante, the orders echoed over the manor, fires were starting to spread, leaving them more and more confined as smoke began to fill the air and a handful of Agante threw back a window assault in a flurry of blades, throwing knives, and martial arts.
Whirlwinds cast bodies out through windows, the smooth flowing sword work of Yarvin cut a deadly path that bought precious time for his master, he used every doorway as a barrier, and played to their hatred of his kind by mocking them relentlessly.
"I'd aim for your cocks instead of your faces, but hitting targets that small is hard even with sharp elven eyes!" He shouted mockingly, drawing a rush of five out into the open in a rage as they drove him back into the kitchen, only for Dominic to bring one down with a sword, another down when he spun and crouched and brought his dagger up straight into an unfortunate soldier's less well protected ass, then ending his screams when the man flew back, by drawing the knife out, bringing it around and up, then down into his throat. The remaining three turned to face him, only to be struck by Yarvin's blade as he showed them he lied about how hard it was to rob them of their manhood. They were left screaming to bleed out as he mockingly called for more.
A deadly cat and mouse pursuit evolved where Agante agents in the great manor would ambush from the darkness, bring down one or two, and flee, only for the pursuers to be ambushed again by others waiting in hiding in the areas they passed through. More than one unfortunate soldier found his advance down a beautiful hallway ended when an Agante stepped from the shadows, pulled back his head, and slit his throat, before vanishing again, leaving the dying man to watch speechless as he bled out, unable to call for comrades who did not even know he'd been attacked.
Finally, after numerous dead littered the manor over hours of constant running and fighting inside and outside the estate, Yarvin and Dominic were nearing the end of their stamina, and they again found themselves on the upper level only a few feet from their last words of affection.
Yarvin grabbed an armored corpse and tossed it to Dominic, as the Cardinal of Wind stripped himself, Yarvin stripped the soldier of his armor. It took only the barest of minutes to see them changed, and Yarvin snatched a burning curtain, and shoved it onto the face of the soldier's corpse that was now dressed like Dominic. "That will buy you time!" He said urgently as the flame scorched the flesh.
Dominic didn't answer the non-question, instead he knelt beside his loyal slave and put a hand to Yarvin's shoulder, "Just carry out one more order for me today. Survive! Survive and I will come for you! Die, and I will avenge you… but I won't forgive you!"
"Yes, Master." Yarvin replied proudly through glassy eyes as Dominic ran for it, along with a handful of Agante agents. Outside, darkness set in except for the fires, the chaos spread, and Yarvin took a deep breath as soon as he was alone. He mutilated the face of the corpse some more, and then dragged it away from the fires, outside he could tell that the delaying action was finally being overcome. 'I really did not anticipate this many would join Yvon... they must be hungrier than any of us believed. Well, it can't be helped, and this won't last, nothing after all, can last forever.' He thought to himself as he dragged the body to the center of the room and sat with it, he cradled it in his lap as he had Dominic in his boyhood, the tears he shed were not for the body he held, but for the man he'd sent away, and they were true ones.
As he expected, steel clad feet eventually stomped into the room, kicking over the pile of bodies. "Where is Dominic?" The owner of those steel clad feet said. Yarvin looked up, he was a bear of a man, thickly muscled and barely contained in his armor, he carried an enormous spiked club rather than sword or halberd.
Yarvin looked down, and touched the face of the disguised and mutilated corpse.
"So that's him, eh?" The bearlike soldier with a thick black beard replied, "Alright, well you're coming with us. But since you don't seem to speak when you're spoken to..." The club came up and swung in a smooth, practiced arc, and Yarvin felt his jaw shatter into fragments, he tumbled to the side, and before he could open his eyes, the club came down, cracked against his skull, and he saw no more.
...Nazarick...
"Tell me something, Shalltear." Ainz said in his private office as he set aside the last of a stack of paperwork that was easily as long as his arm. A flash of guilt swept through him as her awed expression greeted the red orbs that served as his eyes. He neatly tapped the documents a few times upright on his desk so that the papers were even with one another, and then laid them atop the outbox. 'I'm a terrible boss, to put on an act like this, most of those were nonsense, yet she thinks I make complex decisions in a second... I hate this part of my job.' He thought with a despondent flash.
"My Lord!" Shalltear responded enthusiastically. 'How can he do that so fast... his stamp flew from pad to paper like I do over a battlefield. Truly only the Leader of the Forty-One could be so capable...' She pondered with grateful awe. "What can I tell you?" She asked eagerly as a broad smile formed over her face and she stepped a little closer to his desk.
"You have grown in your skills a great deal while on campaign with Zaryusu, developing your bureaucratic skills to allow you to better administer your duties, has strengthened Nazarick, and I am very proud of you. But." He said, and raised a finger, she leaned forward, bright and eager, but also anxious to hear what else he had to say, she didn't speak, only held herself still in anticipation.
"But... I have not heard from you what your 'personal' opinions are, have they changed since you began to serve beyond Nazarick, have they changed since you began to lead those from beyond the Tomb?" Ainz asked curiously.
Shalltear fell back onto her heels from her tiptoed forward leaning, and twirled her parasol thoughtfully behind her. "Actually, My Lord... they have. It is true that humans are weak, pathetic beings, like dirt, best used for walking on, the same goes for almost everything else. But... some of them are different. They make beautiful things, not like the Supreme Beings but... they work, and the loyal ones are able to serve you well. Some of course, are fit only to be food or playthings, many deserve to die screaming. However there are some precious gems buried in the dirt."
"So you now believe some are fit to adorn Nazarick's wealth of talent, then?" Ainz asked, laying one skeletal hand over the other as he rested them on the surface of the ornate dark shaded desk.
Shalltear nodded slowly, "I do, My Lord. The lizard being proved competent at his task. The human husband of your pet peasant has created precious items for Nazarick, the ones you recreated have served in their roles excellently, and the young girl you set to upend the world was even praised by Demiurge for her talent for killing and commanding. Most are worthless, but dig through the dirt, and I understand why you have chosen not to exterminate them." Her voice was humble, fragile, much to his surprise.
"Very good, Shalltear, you were not created with that knowledge, but you obtained it anyway, be proud, for you have grown." Ainz said and stood up, towering over her, he reached out and cupped her face and tilted her face up to him. "I understand, you feel lost that you did not grasp my reasoning... but don't. I am far... far older than you, and have knowledge and experiences you have not even dreamt of. In time, you will grow more, just as you have now, my precious child of my precious friend." Ainz said in a tender, fatherly way that brought bright tears to beautiful child vampire eyes. 'It's technically true... I guess, so... there's that.' He thought to himself about the little half lie he gave to her.
"Thank you... thank you... thank you, Lord Ainz!" She said through sniffles.
"Now, as for why I've called you here," Ainz sat back down, giving out a fake cough to cover his momentary discomfort, "I need you to pull the elves out of the work camps we paid for through the human traitors to the Theocracy. Use the gate and take them to Forton, Aorli can handle what needs to be done from there. Then have Nigredo and some skeleton laborers assigned to distributing food and other vital necessities, while Aorli handles resettlement to villages, towns, and cities. Then return to General Zaryusu until Kami Miyako falls. Any questions?" Ainz asked as he tried to ignore her obsessive, fixated, adoring gaze.
"None, Lord Ainz! I'll do it at once and make you even prouder of me!" She said with a joyful laugh as she touched her cheeks where he had touched her and shook with what he feared might be orgasmic bliss.