A/N: And here it is, one week later, as promised!
I already KNOW some of you guys didn't actually expect this to come out on time. To be fair, neither did I...
Enjoy!
Chapter 21
"Cold, Tempered Steel"
POV Ainz
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"Hmm… maybe more like this..?" I muse aloud, studying my reflection in the mirror.
I lift my right arm slightly higher. Yeah, that seems about right...
Ahem—
"People of the Holy Roble Kingdom! I am the Sorcerer King! Do not fear, for I come in peace! I've come to..! To… errr…"
'Apologize for losing control of my emotions and slaughtering hundreds of your people for no reason'?!
As if that would work!
With a tired sigh, I deactivate my kingly pose and take a seat on the edge of my bed.
What in the world am I to do? What I did in the town of Mellevitch was unforgivable… an irreconcilable blunder that will undoubtedly not only lead to the abolishment of my 'religion', but utterly ruin the entire populace's perceptions of me and the Sorcerer Kingdom. All the careful planning: weeks of effort, gone, because I couldn't restrain myself..!
I unclench my fist, releasing the handful of bedsheet fabric I had been squeezing.
All of Neia's hard work… I betrayed her and all of my followers. She's been an avid follower of mine since the very beginning, the one who propagated my renown across the land. Forget trying to salvage my relationship with the rest of the Roble Kingdom (as that seems like a lost cause)… how can I make it up to her?
If she's even still alive, that is…
Ahhhhhh...
I flop back onto the bed, burying my face in a pillow.
I haven't even told Albedo or Demiurge about my outburst in the Holy Kingdom yet… I bet even the intellectually-unrivalled strategist will have a hard time deducing my 'reasoning' this time. As conveniently-inventive as he is, no matter how you slice it, all I've done is create a massive setback.
If only I could—
!
Hm? I sense someone outside my chamber.
I look to the closed-door expectantly, waiting for whoever it is to announce themselves.
…
Nothing?
"You may enter," I call out after a few more moments.
Silence.
They're… gone? Who could that have been?
I pinch the bridge of my nose in exasperation: if I was in my human form, I would say I was simply imagining things, but… there was definitely someone there a second ago. Maybe they forgot something and will return in a few minutes? Or maybe they were coming to me for help with something, but just as they reached my door, had a comically-timed epiphany and figured out a solution by themselves?
Ah, thinking about it won't do me any good… I'm just stalling so I don't have to give any more thought to either of the two more pressing matters at hand.
If only I had a REASON to go to the Roble kingdom again—to display my benevolence to the people once again.
I suppose 'Demon Emperor Jaldabaoth 2.0' would be a bit excessive, though? But maybe I should consult the overseer or strategist after all, and get their opinions… yeah, I could play it all off as a test, something along the lines of: 'Demiurge, I have purposefully ruined all of our previous efforts and tarnished my reputation in the Roble Kingdom: how will you go about restoring my image?'
Yes, yes! That's perfect! Finally, SOMETHING goes right for a change.
I bolt upright and eagerly raise a finger to my head, preparing to call Demiurge.
I feel bad about shamelessly foisting my problems onto him yet again, but this time it really can't be hel—!
Ta-ting!
"[Ainz-sama]" a deadpan tone rings out in my head.
...That was much too effeminate and youthful to be Demiurge!
"[What is it… CZ-Delta]" I reply, hazarding a guess.
"[Hai. I'm here to report something urgent to you]," she explains.
What uncanny timing!
I clear my throat.
"[Please, tell me what you have to report]".
...
"Your Majesty, it's almost time," Gustav, vice-captain of the Roble Kingdom's paladins, announced with a bow.
Caspond let out a weary sigh, bracing himself against the banister of the balcony overlooking the capital city's square—in the middle of which there was, erected, a gallows being prepped for use.
A heinous criminal, a villainous heretic, was being hanged today.
'Death's Ranger'.
"Is there really no other way to go about this..?" Caspond mused somberly, his eyes glued to the man currently testing the tensile strength of the rope that would soon be wrapped around young Baraja's neck.
Gustav dipped his head with a bitter expression.
"I'm afraid not, Your Majesty. In times like this…" he trailed off for a moment: "it's better to just give the people what they want."
The King bit his lower lip.
"To preserve the peace and prevent an escalation of violence, I know…"
Caspond was only just recently inaugurated as King, but already the crown on his head felt unfathomably heavy.
These were delicate times. The Roble Kingdom was in a volatile state, teetering precariously on the verge of civil war.
The people were at their wit's end.
The aftermath of Jaldabaoth's invasion was nowhere near resolved—many were still homeless, and just about everyone in the Northern half of the country remained psychologically or physically traumatized to some degree.
They lost faith in their Kingdom's authority, its protectors, who could do nothing but depend on the aid of a neighbouring king—an undead, no less—to save them.
The citizens were embittered—Caspond knew this as much. He also knew that the recuperative efforts—to restore the all-but-razed cities' infrastructure and support those who lost everything mere weeks ago—were painfully slow and inadequate: tensions were rising among the populace.
So when news spread, like wildfire, that the Sorcerer King had, ostensibly on a whim, slaughtered hundreds of innocent citizens…
It was what you could say was the last straw to break the proverbial camel's back, catalyzing the release of everyone's pent up anxiety and fear.
The public backlash was far more severe and visceral than Caspond could have imagined.
It was utter pandemonium.
Harnessing—no, taking advantage of their dissatisfaction, Remedios and the Holy Bishop set everyone on a warpath, condemning the Sorcerer King. No doubt, they meant only to restore the Church's crippled reputation.
And it all happened so quickly, before Caspond himself could even raise a finger. It took a concerted effort on his part and several other sensible nobles just to talk the population down from demanding flat-out war against the Sorcerer Kingdom.
But in the end, that's all he could do. The people still demanded blood: something to satiate their needs, quell their fears, give them a false sense of power and control.
And Neia Baraja—at Remedios' own suggestion—was the chosen martyr.
Caspond clenched his fists shut, cursing his own helplessness. Perhaps if he was more experienced as a ruler, he could have tempered his people's displeasure more tactfully.
"Given the circumstances, Bessarez-sama, I believe this is the best possible outcome. One life is a small price to pay for the assurance of the Kingdom's stability. We can't afford to let chaos reign over the country: we'd be back to square one, no better off than we were the day Jaldabaoth was slain," Gustav added, sensing his lord's dissatisfaction.
"..."
Caspond knew in his heart that this was true. It was the only reason he wasn't trying, right this very moment, to implore the people to reconsider.
Sometimes a King must act for his people, regardless of what he himself believes is right. A King must not rule OVER his people: he must rule FOR his people. At least, that's the philosophy Caspond has chosen to subscribe to.
Yet even as he could acknowledge that the hanging of Neia Baraja was, regrettably, the best possible scenario right now, the Holy King could not shake this pervasive anxiety. Though the air was charged with the nipping chill of winter's imminence, it was not, as far as he could tell, because of this that his hands trembled perceptibly against the marble railing even now.
It took him a while to figure out why he felt the way that he did, but it finally occurred to him as he continued to blankly stare at the gallows below.
"Gustav…" he whispered with a tentative breath.
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
Caspond removed his hands from the banister, cupping them together over his mouth to breathe warmth upon them. Just as he suspected, the trembling did not stop.
"Answer me this, Gustav, as honestly as you can…" he trailed off, deciding whether or not he should actually give voice to his concern—he was not a particularly superstitious man, and he knew full-well that he did not possess such omnipotence so as to be able to alter the course of reality with words alone, but, the fact remained that superstition was as inextricable a component of God-fearing men as faith itself.
And so if there was even the slightest chance that by giving voice to his concern he would make it more likely to occur, then he would not.
"I will try to answer to the best of my abilities, Your Highness," Gustav assured soberly, oblivious to his lord's dilemma.
"..."
Finally, perhaps inspired by his subordinate's willingness, Caspond decided he could no longer keep it to himself.
"Gustav… what do you think the odds are that the Sorcerer King himself will seek to avenge Baraja's death?"
Gustav's eyes widened in surprise. And before he could find his voice, Caspond quickly added:
"—worse yet, what if he appears before us today?"
Silence.
Finally, the paladin opened his mouth, though it remained gaping in silence for several seconds before the words came out:
"I… I doubt that, Your Majesty. It's been four days since the incident, now, and I feel as though if the Sorcerer King had any further intention of intervening, he would have made a move already. Besides, he killed two hundred of his own devotees… forgive me for being frank, Caspond-sama, but if that isn't an explicit indication that he no longer cares for his followers here in the Roble Kingdom, then I don't know what is," he explained thoughtfully.
Caspond let out a long sigh and watched his translucent white breath drift away into nothingness.
"I see… perhaps you are right, Gustav. Thank you. I think I might just be a bit on edge after all…" he confessed.
The vice-captain offered a casual bow:
"As you should be. I can't begin to imagine the burden you must be carrying right now, Caspond-sama, especially since you only just became King a few weeks ago. I'd say you've carried yourself rather well, Your Highness".
Caspond finally turned around with a faint smile etched onto his weary face. Before he could thank the paladin again for his reassuring input, however—
Gong! Gong! Gong!
The deep, metallic echoes of the church's bronze bells thundered out, heralding the start of a new hour.
Which meant… that it was now time.
Caspond shot one final glance over the balcony's edge—already, a few dozen people had gathered in eager anticipation. More were flocking from all directions. It would only be a matter of minutes before several hundred people filled the square. Remedios herself had finally made an appearance, with an expression that seemed to Caspond a little too happy. The entertainment-starved peasants had a voracious yet macabre appetite, Caspond inwardly noted, pursing his lips.
Sometimes, as blasphemous a thought that this was, he was ashamed of being human.
But there was no helping it now. As much as he hated it, Caspond knew he would have to make an appearance, to seem as though he was endorsing the execution.
He had to stand united with his people—he had to appear strong and give the impression that he shared their feelings.
"Shall we go, Caspond-sama?" Gustav inquired as though he had been following the King's train of thought.
"Yes, let's…"
Walking side-by-side with his paladin, down the flight of stairs and out the main doors, the Holy King could not help but notice that his hands were still shaking.
POV Ainz
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Okay, okay, I think I'm ready! I've got my grand-entrance pose and opening lines all memorized. I would've liked a bit more time to prepare, but I should be cautious and leave a bit early in case things progress more quickly than I've calculated.
I will save Neia—and at the same time, hopefully, clear my name!
I slap both sides of my face—an admittedly much less invigorating ritual of self-preparation when there isn't any flesh or any nerves to stimulate, but…
I shake my head. Stay focused, Ainz!
I've decided to open a [Gate] in the sky and address the Roble Kingdom from above—I think it'll have a big impact as everyone cranes their necks up to see me, high above them, only for me to humbly touch down on the ground and begin my apology. Like a God bringing himself down on equal footing with mortals...
It's perfect! Well, perhaps a bit cheesy, but not by this world's standards!
"[Fly]," I chant, imbuing myself with a faint blue light.
My room is a bit cramped to conjure a portal, so I'll have to step outside of my room.
I reach for the door handle and whip it open with unwarranted force.
"[Gate]" I chant, conjuring forth a swirling vortex just outside my door.
I take a step forward, fake staff of Ainz-Ooal Gown in hand.
Hang on Neia, I'm comi—!
Thok!
Hmm?
I look down at the ground, having felt my foot hit something.
!
For a second, my heart skips a beat as the unremarkable black book at my feet appears quite similar to my own personal journal—but a cursory inspection is enough to reveal that it is not. The spine is completely different.
Uwahhh! can you imagine if I had left it somewhere and one of the NPC's had happened upon it and discovered such supreme-ruler-worthy notes like 'Royal Poses 1-68'.
I'd be finished!
Letting out a sigh of relief, I bend over and pick it up.
The cover is completely blank, revealing nothing about the (what I presume to be a) journal's contents.
Who does it belong to? Ah, was this perhaps left by that person who came by a short while ago? It must not be important, then, if they didn't feel the need to hand-deliver it to me directly.
Ah, I'm getting lost in my head again, I don't have time to speculate when I can just confirm what this is with the flip of a page!
I open the cover.
And time stops.
This Diary Belongs to:
Jade Willows
This is..!
My train of thought stagnates in disbelief. With a nervous swallow, I immediately flip to the next page.
Hey… me! Because I'm sure you (me?) will be the only one to ever read this… but apparently, writing things down can be a good way to process your feelings… at least that's what Liz has always assured me. I have enough trouble as is expressing myself sometimes, so now—since I've been transported into a virtual world—seems like as good a time as any to test her claim. (Though if Liz believes in it, it probably won't be of any help -_-).
So this is my first entry: day 1, of being ACTUALLY in Yggdrasil. A phenomenon that's as fascinating as it is terrifying… I don't know how this happened, but I've tried accessing menus and player functions: so far no good. I seem to have assumed the identity of my in-game avatar, Lenora: I've retained all of my equipment, abilities, stats, and even my appearance. (Just tried using a spell: it was surprisingly easy, even without any interface to guide me as there was in-game, further enforcing the fact that I've fully become Lenora. It's completely intuitive.
(Also, in so doing, I accidentally burned down a significant portion of a deciduous forest down in the process. Whoops.)
I've tried sending a message to the devs of the game, but there was no response. No way to 'log out' either… of course, I knew things wouldn't be that easy...
I wasn't doing anything remarkable before the Yggdrasil servers shut down—nothing that I believe could explain my transportation to this world. With that in mind, the only logical variable left to blame is the shutting-down of Yggdrasil's servers itself, and so my tentative theory is as follows: the abrupt and instantaneous severing of the connection between Yggdrasil's servers and the nanotechnology within the interface system and within my body caused a malfunction. As there were no longer any active servers to communicate with the nanobots—and thus no way to relay the confirmation that I had 'logged out' from the game—it effectively resulted in the entrapment of my consciousness within the game's system. I can't withdraw from the system until the nanotechnology influencing my brain is told that I've logged out.
But there are lots of issues with this theory. Namely, how such a renowned dive-game corporation could have overlooked something as important as a function that logs players out of the interface when the servers shut down. Another problem is that I've never heard of a similar issue happening in the past—not even in the early days of deep-dive technology, during which I feel such glaring bugs would've been eradicated. And so perhaps it was just a glitch, a core malfunction within the mother server during the system shutdown… or maybe someone purposefully tampered with the coding (a recently-fired, spiteful employee perhaps?!) to trap everyone's consciousness within the game!
… Sorry, that's just my inner-conspiracist running away with things. That's highly improbable. (Am I weird for joking to myself? Am I weird for asking myself if I'm weird for joking to myself? This whole diary schtick feels weird).
But I will admit, now that I've reached the end of this page, I think I do feel a bit better. Who could have thought Liz was actually right for once? It's nighttime now… and though I'm not sure if Lenora requires it, Jade is certainly demanding some sleep.
Feeling: uncertain.
With a trembling hand, I don't wast a single moment before flipping to the next page.
Okay, so I missed a day, actually… this is day three of my being here in the 'New World'. (Time is relative, though—who knows how long it's been back on Earth? Perhaps it's only been a couple minutes, perhaps its been weeks: though the persistence of my consciousness implies something closer to the former).
Yesterday was quite eventful. I stumbled upon the border of a Kingdom not far from where I first appeared in this world. I met some knights patrolling the area, and after diffusing their initial suspicion, they informed me I had entered the Baharuth Empire. I was taken to have an audience with an 'Emperor Jircniv'. Intriguingly enough, these 'NPC's' (if I can even call them that any more) are impossibly realistic, far beyond what Yggdrasil's parameters allowed for. They're so real!
Long story short, I did not reveal that I came from another world. I have to be cautious about what I do or say in this world. Who knows what danger could befall me if word got out that I'm from another dimension? But on that same day that I met the Emperor, I managed to (single-handedly :p) slay a wyvern that descended upon the capital city. Based on how much the city's guards were struggling against what I determined for myself to be a paltry beast, it's safe to say this is a low-level kingdom. Ah, and I can't neglect to mention the fact that I was also offered the position of Imperial Captain by the emperor himself right then and there, who seemed very impressed by the simple 6-tier spell [Gravity Rush] that I used during the battle. I'm not sure what I was thinking, but I accepted—I suppose it would be best to play it safe and make some allies, and simply go with the flow until I can learn more about my situation and where I am. I don't, off the top of my head, remember a 'Baharuth Empire' anywhere amongst the nine realms of Yggdrasil…
That evening I spent some time—with the guidance of one 'Fluder Paradyne'—in the public library, poring over maps and historical documents. As it turns out...
I'm not in Yggdrasil at all! ;_;
SO there goes my initial hypothesis… I'm in a completely different world. So I'm back to square one on that front. For now, I guess I can only blame some supernatural force for my circumstance (though I loathe the use of the word 'supernatural'—any of my science professors would smack me upside the head if they read this right now!)
Today's been exhausting… so I'll sign off here for now.
Feeling: worn-out...
My lips curl into a melancholic smile.
It's so weird to read this now, knowing that she's… gone. I wonder who left it on my doorstep, and how they managed to acquire such an item? Perhaps it was one of the maids, who stumbled upon it while cleaning up her room..?
I'll also have to chew Fluder out for not telling me about her sooner… I know he's getting old and inarguably a bit senile, but come on...
Putting that aside, I really should get going. I'd never forgive myself if Neia got decapitated or something because I became too engrossed in my own sentiments. I can read this any time, really.
Having felt like I made up my mind, I extend the book out to my side, into the void of my inventory.
...
And yet…
I can't bring my fingers to let go. Pursing my imaginary lips, I slowly retract the journal from the void.
Ahhh I really am irresponsible—but I can't resist! Forgive me, Neia!
Greedily, I thumb the book's fore-edge—and my digit glides across a peculiar gap, caused by the turning-down of a page's corner: the only dog-eared page, denoting its exclusive importance.
With a fleeting sense of guilt for skipping a handful of pages—though I can always return to them at a later date when time is not of the essence—I flip to the marked page.
Scanning the first sentence, my eyes widen in surprise.
This must have been written four days ago.
The night… before she killed herself.
The best thing has just happened to me today! I've happened upon—drum roll, please!
Another PLAYER from Yggdrasil! Finally, after nearly two weeks, I'm no longer alone anymore!
His name is Suzuki (his character name is Ainz), and when I first met him, I broke down like a blubbering baby! I was so relieved to know I wasn't alone that I couldn't help myself. Neither could he though, thank God, or that would've been extremely awkward. Misery loves company, as they say!
It turns out he was transported to this world in the same fashion as me. This at least eliminates the possibility that I alone was sent here due to a personal-device error—the problem must have come from the head servers themselves. But unlike me, he came here with his entire guild base and all of its NPC's—how cool is that? Yeah, he's the 'Supreme Ruler' of the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick… I'm actually quite jealous, and now regretting the fact that I never bothered joining a guild of my own. Perhaps then I wouldn't have been transported here all by my lonesome…
Interestingly enough, though, Suzuki's been in this world for MONTHS! I can't even imagine how hard it's been for him. I was just about at my wit's end before I met him, and I've only been here for like twelve days!
We spent the whoooooole day chatting in his guild base's bathhouse (which was absolutely gigantic, by the way). He's a great guy—definitely not the worst guy to be stuck with when you're trapped in a foreign dimension. He's funny (in a sarcastic way that managed to make my blood boil several times -_-). Just from today alone, and from how much his NPC's adore him, I can tell he's a really swell guy… and not that bad looking either! I reckon if he was a bit younger I'd have fallen for him on the spot, but, well... all-in-all, he's pretty awesome… even though he didn't believe some things when I told him about my own life. I'll have to prove I'm not just all talk somehow…
Feeling: ecstatic!
'He's pretty awesome'
…
Okay, I've been trying to abstain from using more than just one page a day for the sake of not getting carried away, but I just can't contain myself! It's been a couple of hours since my last entry, but some unexpected things happened and now I'm all fired up!
Suzuki dropped by just as I was getting ready to fall asleep, and after asking me a few weird questions—like what I intended to do moving forward and whatnot. SO I revealed to him my ambition to find a way back home. Weirdly enough, he didn't seem too keen on the idea… maybe he's just apprehensive or in denial? I wouldn't blame him I suppose, I probably wouldn't want to get my hopes up prematurely if I had already been stuck here for several months…
But that just makes me even more determined! I'll make him regret ever doubting my abilities to begin with, no matter what it takes! Days, weeks, months, even years—I don't care how long it takes, I KNOW I can do it.
I'll begin research tomorrow. Naturally, given the immense discrepancies in the fundamental laws of nature and physics of this world compared to Earth's, I certainly don't expect to get any significant headway. But day-by-day, little by little… I'll get there.
No matter what, I won't give up.
I'll see my family again… I miss them so much. (Even Liz…) I'd do anything to feel their arms wrap around me again.
Oh, and when we get to Earth, I'll be sure to lord it over Suzuki for as long as he lives! (And maybe make him treat me to dinner or something..? No, that would hardly be enough of a reward… I'll have to think of something much more extravagant hehe…)
Ahhh I'm so excited! I'm not sure if I'll be able to sleep now… guess I'll just have to do my best XD
Feeling: optimistically determined!
...
I… I don't understand!
How… how could she have..! Hardly twelve hours after writing this, how could she have taken her own life and left!?
'No matter what, I won't give up'
What kind of sick, demented joke was that?!
Was this really the extent of your resolve, Jade?! Was your determination to be reunited with your family really so pathetic and shallow that you would give up so quickly?!
BULLSHIT!
Ta-ting!
[Emotion Suppressor has been activated]
What happened to proving me wrong and lording your accomplishments over me for the rest of my life?!
WHAT HAPPENED?!
Ta-ting!
[Emotion Suppressor has been activated]
Quickly, torturously, images of Jade flash through my mind.
Those smiles, those tears, those laughs—all reflected within the pages of this journal! It proves that they were her true feelings!
THEY could not be fake.
So what the FUCK was that suicide note?!
It just… I don't… I can't..!
It doesn't make SENSE!
With a frustrated flick of my wrist, I hurl the book away, send it crashing into the corridor's wall.
The force of the impact forces the book open, punctuating the air with the sound of fluttering paper.
And in midair, from betwixt some indiscernible pages, there slipped a small white square, which then sailed through the air, straight towards me, as if propelled by some invisible force.
Mesmerized by its ethereal glide, I reach out, as if in a trance, to pluck it from its languid course as it comes within reach using my thumb and forefinger.
A note?
I flip it over in my hand.
!
Not a suicide. It was the guardians of Nazarick.
Ta-ting..!
[Emotion Suppressor has been activated]
Nine words written in wild and flamboyant script. That's all there is.
Bone-chilling.
I read it over again.
And again. And again. And again. I flip it over in my trembling grasp, back and forth, searching for that impossible third side.
Blood-curdling.
Is… is this somebody's idea of a joke..? It must be… why should I believe in the veracity of some anonymous note? Surely the guardians would never—
No, wait.
That's right... it's only natural that the guardians would be skeptical of Jade's true intentions and suspect some sort of ulterior motives, given how powerful she was. They would've surely tried to investigate her.
I run an agitated hand through my hair.
And when they did—by sending Pandora's Actor, disguised as me, for a 'late-night visit'...
They learned about her ambitions to return to Earth, along with me!
Click!
My eyes widen in realization.
All the pieces of the puzzle fall into place. Yes… it all makes sense now..!
World-shattering.
If… if they had learned that some foreign newcomer of unknown origin was planning to steal their supreme ruler, their only motivation for life, away from them—then how would they react?
Maybe… maybe they would've actually...!
I steady myself against the corridor's wall.
N-no… it can't be!
Jade's 'suicide'... it was just an elaborate cover-up! How could I have been so blind?! Of course Jade wouldn't have taken her own life. Deep down… I've known that from the very beginning! But this journal and this note proves it! Her death… the ones who killed her..! It was..!
The guardians of Nazarick.
Ta-ting!
[Emotion Suppressor has been activated]
...
The overlord couldn't believe it. How could they—his precious comrades' children, HIS own children—betray him like that?! How… how could they?!
Ta-ting!
And all this time..! Going about their days like they did nothing wrong!
All of them—treacherous, malfeasant liars!
Ta-ting!
Unforgivable!
Ta-ting!
They murdered her for no reason at all! He never even wanted to go back to that shit-hole of a planet called Earth!
Ta-ting!
How dare they take matters into their own hands like that?! He was the only one who stayed behind with them this entire time, since long before they even came to this new world. He gave meaning to their otherwise miserable existences.
And this was how they repaid him?!
Ta-ting
Did they take him, the Supreme Ruler of the Underground Tomb of Nazarick, for a FOOL?!
FoooooooOOOOOOOOOM!
An explosion of darkness, so dense and unfiltered that it made his previous outbursts seem like a mere toddler's fickle pouting.
The floor beneath him quaked, the lights above flickered.
The red of his smouldering eyes flared out like vicious flames, like crimson snakes lashing out within the sable storm of poisoned air that was manifesting around him.
Ta-ting
Ta-ting
Ta-ting!
More, more, and more—there was no end to his scornful fury which billowed out and diffused, spread, like a cold blanket, smothering all of Nazarick.
Ta-ting
Ta-ting
Ta-ting!
He clutched at his skull. This insufferable cacophony of incessant ringing, denoting the forcible suppression of his wrath. Curbing, up and down, up and down, up and down..!
It felt like his head was splitting apart.
Ta-ting
Ta-ting
Ta-ting
They were but mere drops of water, a trickle of futile splashes attempting to extinguish the voracious flames burning within him. He couldn't bear the noise any longer: and in fact, he wanted them to feel it all. He would lay his emotions bare, for all of Nazarick to experience.
He wanted them—those damnable guardians, no matter where they were right now—to feel the depths of his fury.
To realize just how grave of a mistake they had made.
To realize how profoundly, unequivocally, and absolutely fucked they were.
"[Greater… Elicit… Emotion]".
Yes, he would hold nothing back..!
...
And yet, perplexingly enough, as he found himself re-bound by flesh, he discovered his pain diminish.
The flow of tears was abruptly stemmed. The storm around him shrunk, retreated back within him.
The sorrow was gone.
Deep breath.
Exhale.
Repeat.
All that remained was the hate, condensed and clean-cut.
It could be said that humans were the most emotional of the intelligent races. It could also be said that this emotionality is a key contributor to their labelling as one of the weaker, more fragile races, easily consumed by raw emotions like love, hate, and fear. A bit of perspective:
An elf's hate is shallow yet enduring—as long-living and pretentious creatures, they will hold a grudge over the pettiest things for several decades: but never act on it, never allow it to dictate their behaviour.
On the other hand, a dwarf's hate is fiery and passionate—but within a few hours, perhaps after a fight, they would be happily obliged to have a drink with you. It's all water under the bridge.
Now mix the worst aspects of these two types of hate, and then add a tremendous dash of volatility: and you have a human's hate. Fiery, long-lasting, destructive. A human would go to the ends of the world in order to enact retribution upon whom he or she was wronged by.
Indeed, a human consumed by hate was something to be wary of.
But a human that was in control of such vile hatred, well…
That was something to fear.
No more tears. No more wailing. No more cries of anguish or uncontrolled rage—all of that had already been conveyed, and Ainz was sick of being in such a state.
Now was the time for a different, more malicious approach: one that only his human side could convincingly employ.
To wield his emotions, his hate, like a blade of cold, tempered steel.
Untainted by anguish or despair, it could be unsheathed or stowed away at a moment's notice.
It was time.
To deal with the guardians.
...
The throne-room doors creaked open with a solemn swing.
…
"You may enter," Ainz commanded, perched upon his throne.
His voice was enough to freeze the blood even as it coursed through the guardians' veins—eerily calm, not at all what they were expecting.
...
"Did you not hear me? I said to enter," Ainz repeated—his voice did not raise, he did not move.
The guardians all stepped inside, heads down, not daring to meet their Overlord's piercing gaze.
With each stride they took, the invisible pressure filling the air became more and more palpable. By the time they reached the foot of the throne's steps, it was oppressively crushing.
They all dropped to their knees.
Silence.
The overlord simply stared at the top of the guardians' bowed heads for over a minute—a veritable eternity.
He would let them squirm for a while.
And squirm they did.
As time went on, the guardians' bodies trembled more and more.
Several of them wished he would just begin yelling at them—they were prepared for anything, even death. But this, being forced to endure the supreme one's frigid glare, was unbearable.
"Well? I await your pledge of loyalty," Ainz finally revealed in a bored tone, shattering the stifling silence in such a casual way that all eight guardians shuddered in fright.
They wasted no time.
"W-we pledge ourselves wholeheartedly to the Supreme One, and humbly present ourselves before him in answer to his call!" a tremulous chorus trickled out in sloppy unison—music to the overlord's ears.
Now, it was time to unsheathe his blade.
"Hmm…" Ainz hummed thoughtfully, rising from his throne.
He struck the tip of his staff authoritatively into the ground before taking his first step down the stairs.
Slowly, translucent wisps of undulating shadows began to curl off of his shoulders—not much, just enough to inspire the guardians' to lower their heads a bit farther.
"There was a time, not too long ago, when your pledge actually meant something to me," he continued in a stoic tone.
The guardians all wobbled unsteadily in place. The first blow had been a critical hit.
Ainz took another step.
"Pandora's Actor," he called out nonchalantly.
The doppelganger could only nod his head, unable to find his voice. It was a bit rude, Ainz thought, for him not to respond verbally after being directly addressed.
But he was a benevolent ruler, so he could forgive it just this once…
"It's not very often that you find yourself called to the throne room. It must be nice to get out of the treasury room every now and then, hm?"
Again, the wall-outlet faced guardian could only nod his head.
"Ah, and you, Demiurge," Ainz continued, switching targets.
The demon stiffened at the sound of his name, his throat lurching nervously.
"You seem to be sweating a lot. You must be parched. It's important to replenish your fluids and stay hydrated, even if you are a demon. Could I interest you in a glass of water?" the supreme one asked, reaching inside his pocket dimension to withdraw a pitcher.
'N-no, A-Ainz-sama…"
"I see… ah, and how goes that personal research project of yours? I trust the funding I provided you a few days ago has been put to good use?"
"..."
"Is something the matter, Demiurge?"
The demon adjusted his glasses in a fluster:
"N-no, forgive me, Ainz-sama… yes, it is going q-quite well, t-thank you…" he choked out.
"Good…"Ainz mused with beguiling sincerity, keeping his eyes trained on the demon for a while longer. Just as it seemed—from the reddening of his face and the bulging of his veins—that the guardian might faint, Ainz finally tore his eyes away.
"And you, Mare," the overlord continued mercilessly, walking over to the druid, who had all but folded into a quivering little ball:
"I saw you in the library the other day, you know. Why didn't you come say hello? I must say I was rather hurt…" the overlord confessed sardonically: "and how's that new book you're reading?"
Although he thought it impossible, the dark elf managed to shrink even more, tucking his head into the crux of his knees.
Mare could not even bring himself to nod his head, much less formulate a verbal response.
Aura trembled sympathetically beside him.
For a split second, Ainz felt bad for tormenting the poor children in such a way. After all, he was certain that they were not the first ones to propose the killing of Jade.
But, he was sure that they were still guilty, and therefore deserved no mercy. It would've undoubtedly taken the combined efforts of all the guardians to kill—murder—Jade so inconspicuously.
The overlord silently clenched his fists.
"Hmm, I see. So the book is that terrible..." he joked bitterly before moving on.
Finally, he reached the center of the line, coming to a stop in front of Albedo.
Playtime was over.
"Now that most of the formalities have been taken care of… I'm sure all of you know why I called you here?" Ainz boomed, projecting just a mote of venom into his voice.
All the guardians slowly nodded their heads.
"I see… so, I'm curious: who dealt the final blow?" he tossed out coldly.
Silence.
The overlord slammed his staff impatiently into the ground—an irrevocable command.
"M-me..!" someone squeaked immediately.
Ainz turned his head to the sound—
"Ah, Shalltear… I should've known," he admitted, but then looked down to the succubus at his feet:
"But honestly… I was almost sure it would've been you, Albedo".
The overseer's wings spasmed anxiously, causing her whole body to teeter unsteadily.
Step, step, step.
The Supreme One took slow, purposeful strides towards the vampire.
"So tell me," he began once he reached her: "how did you do it? With your pipette lance, I presume? Did you perhaps strike her… here?" he guessed in a soft tone, sticking his foot out to prod at the vampire's padded chest.
Shalltear clenched her eyes shut.
Normally, such contact would have sent her reeling with the bliss of an intense orgasm.
But not this time. The touch was so love-less that not even she could derive pleasure from it.
"Or perhaps— " Ainz paused for a moment, lifting his foot even higher, resting it on top of the pale guardian's bonnet.
"—you just stuck it straight through her skull?" he finished—and with a slow, humiliating movement, drove Shalltear's head to the ground underfoot.
She dared not to resist—she was too afraid, too full of shame.
"Answer the question," Ainz pressed relentlessly, exerting a bit more pressure through his foot.
Shalltear's face contorted painfully as the side of her face was smooshed against the marble floor.
Of course, something like this, Ainz knew, was not strong enough to actually hurt her.
"Y-yes…" she finally stammered out, clenching her eyes shut with a shudder.
"'Yes' to which? The head, or the chest?"
"... B-b-both…"
Kra-koom!
The black aura that had been emanating languidly from the Overlord's body flared, spiked exponentially, chilled the guardians right down to their bones, before he managed to reign it back in.
though it had only been unleashed for a split second, it had been plentifully potent enough for Shalltear to regret her forthrightness, and enough to stifle her vocal cords into inoperability.
The overlord took a deep breath.
"I see… well, I suppose I must commend you for being honest with me, for once".
Finally, he lifted his foot off of Peroroncino's creation and took a step back—though she dared not, or rather could not, lift her head even in its absence.
"And you, Sebas, what was your role in all of this?" Ainz threw out, shooting a sideways glance at the 'Iron Butler', the only guardian left who didn't appear to be on the verge of pissing themselves.
Hand over heart, Touch Me's creation opened his mouth with his usual dignified eloquence:
"I was tasked with—"
But Ainz raised a hand to silence him.
"Do not say you were 'tasked' with anything. The only one who can task you to do anything is me, and I certainly did not order you to go through with such a shitty, pathetic scheme. You participated willingly, and have no right to eschew guilt by saying you were 'tasked' to do what you did. Your conscience, along with everyone else's, has long since been forfeit," the supreme one hissed before letting loose the final blow:
"Lord Touch-Me would be ashamed of his creation if he were here right now".
And with that, for the first time maybe ever, the butler's stoic demeanour crumbled away—exquisitely, as far as Ainz was concerned. He trembled in place, rocking unsteadily, clenching his fists in self-frustration, seeming to Ainz as a senile old man who had lost control of his own body.
For Sebas, who was undoubtedly the most righteous guardian, to be accused of deflecting the blame must surely pack quite a sting.
"O-of course, Ainz-sama… forgive my poor choice of words..!" he apologized vehemently in a low, shameful tone.
"You are forgiven. Now tell me, what—" he began to repeat, but then stopped abruptly, letting out a contemplative hum.
The guardians all stiffened in uncomfortable anticipation.
"—on second thought, why don't I just take a look for myself?" he proclaimed, shuffling over to Cocytus.
"Pardon me," he said in an icy tone, extending a hand out to grip the top of the insect's head.
Before the warrior could even figure out what was happening, it was too late.
His mandibles clicked anxiously in surprise.
"[Search Memory]" the overlord chanted callously, clenching his eyes shut in concentration.
He was inside the fifth-floor guardian's head now, combing through his memory.
Normally, he would be subtle and considerate of whom he was using the spell on, but not this time. He searched haphazardly, quickly, violently, practically tearing through the warrior's memories, paying no heed to the discomfort he was inflicting as he trampled upon the machinations of Cocytus' brain.
Back one day… then two, three, four, until—
"Ah… this must be it," he declared, forcing a triumphant tone.
And for the next five minutes—an agonizingly long time for the eight guardians—he watched it all unfold, from the moment Lenora first appeared on the fifth floor with 'Ainz'.
All the guardians could do now was wait.
Wait, as the overlord's insidious aura grew and grew, larger and larger.
Wait, for their inevitable punishment in suffocating silence.
How could they have been so wrong? How had they been so foolish to think they could deceive the all-knowing overlord and tuck their sins neatly under the rug, never to see the light of day again?
How could they have so severely underestimated the ramifications of him finding out?
Neither Albedo nor Demiurge could have predicted such a thing: known the depth of Ainz and Jade's relationship. So why hadn't they acted more prudently and waited until they had more information before doing something so reckless?
They had acted too hastily. Hindsight was a cruel mistress, and Desperation had deafened them all to the voice of Reason. If only they—!
Finally, Ainz retracted his hand from Cocytus' head, an innocuous action that nevertheless managed to obliterate the introspective silence.
Quietly, he turned his back to them all, biting his lower lip which threatened to quiver. He could no longer bear to look at them.
'Heartbroken' could not even begin to describe the devastation he felt from seeing his guardians' betrayal firsthand.
It sickened him.
He just wanted them to disappear, out of sight and out of mind.
Slowly, he opened his mouth, drawing in a shaky, rattling breath to quell his nerves—a foretelling inhale that informed the guardians that their punishment was coming, like a strong gust of wind heralding the impending formation of a tornado.
What would it be? Would they be killed… or worse, exiled..?
The former they could accept—after all, a guardian who could not satisfy the demands of their supreme ruler was undeserving of life to begin with.
Yes, execution would be an act of mercy at this point, they all realized.
And so they prayed, silently, bowing their heads imploringly towards the back of their overlord.
They prayed for death.
And in answer to their pleas—
"[The Goal of All Life is Death]".
Their sovereign replied.
As the translucent clock materialized upon his back, bathing the dimly-lit throne room in a faint, aureate glow, the guardians smiled.
So it was decided, then. Death.
Gong!
The clock's harrowing first tick thundered out, and in its waning echo the guardians all found morbid solace.
Their trembling stopped.
Yes, if it was this… they could accept this. This was right.
Gong!
'Just punishment befalls those who act unjustly'.
Truly, the supreme one's clemency knew no bounds.
Gong!
Of course, they wished it had not come to this—they did not want to leave. It had always been their collective dream to live out their entire lives serving Ainz-sama with unwavering devotion.
Gong!
But that was no longer a possibility.
Gong!
They had failed him. They no longer had the right to live.
Gong!
They all raised their heads, levying fond gazes towards Ainz-sama's back.
'Please, Ainz-sama! Turn around!' they implored.
Gong!
They at least wanted to see his face one last time, to gaze upon his excellency just one more time..!
They wanted to internalize the epitome of perfection that was their master in their final moments, to carry his glory with them into the afterlife.
Gong!
It was a selfish request—they did not deserve for it to be fulfilled.
Gong!
Their bitter-sweet smiles broadened with anticipation for the final ring.
Gong!
And there it was! The hand struck twelve—irrevocable, permeating the entire room.
Finally, the overlord turned around.
!
The guardians' eyes all widened, brimming with tears of joy. Now, they could pass on peacefully.
Yes… all was well.
Satisfied, they all pressed their foreheads against the ground, keeping their eyes clenched shut so that they could gaze upon Ainz-sama's form on the back of their eyelids right through to the last possible second.
Words could not express how thankful they were towards the supreme one at this moment.
They thanked him inwardly for his abounding mercy.
They thanked him for staying behind when all the other supreme ones had abandoned them.
They thanked him… for blessing their insignificant lives with a purpose most profound.
And so, desperate to seize their final opportunity, they all opened their mouths, compelled their voices into action despite the pressure Ainz was exuding, to vehemently express their love for Ainz-Ooal Gown, one final time:
"All hail Ainz-sama! Long live Nazarick!"
Their crackling cheer sounded muted in the Overlord's ears, sending a pain that was both sharp and dull to wrack his entire body.
He stared down at the row of prostrating bodies.
The bowed heads of Nazarick's guardians—his devoted guardians.
The scene layed out before him conflicted harshly with images of Jade and the callousness with which he knew they had extinguished her life.
Bitter tears attenuated his stern gaze, softened his blade of tempered steel until it was no more.
The hardened fury had melted, cooled, and transformed into a lachrymose heartache.
Reality finally sunk in: he was saying goodbye to the guardians. This… could be the last time he ever saw them.
The overlord brought a hand over his mouth to stifle the hitching of his breath: his whole body was now trembling, shaking uncontrollably. He staggered back, running both hands distraughtly through his hair.
He was grateful that the guardians' heads were lowered. If he were to meet one of their gazes, he might just break.
A single phrase.
That's all it would take to send them all to oblivion in an instant.
It's what they deserved. It's what would avenge Jade. How could he ever trust them again after this?
As long as the guardians were around… would he ever be able to befriend another player? There's no guarantee that they would never do the same thing again.
Clenching his fists, Ainz gritted his teeth in frustration.
[Cry of the Banshee]—the words tantalizingly tickled the tip of his tongue, threatening to roll off at any second.
It would be so easy..!
But as he looked out as his guardians, behind whom there was, hanging high above, the banners of his comrades, he could not help but dither.
What would they think if they were here, witnessing what was about to transpire? Would they align themselves with him… or would they try to stop him?
He could not be sure.
With a furious wipe of his sleeve, the Overlord cleared his blurry vision and looked back down.
!
His eyes widened in shock.
The guardians had disappeared: and in their places, kneeling before him, were his comrades.
Touch-Me.
Ulbert.
Takemikazuchi.
Peroroncino.
Bukubukuchagama.
Tabula.
It took all of his restraint to stay his hand from reaching out wistfully. He averted his gaze, clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the torturous hallucination to dissolve. And when his eyes fluttered open trepidatiously, they were gone. The shattering of the illusion, as brief and unbelievable as it was, still managed to bore a hole in his heart.
He clutched at his chest. It seemed he just...
—The ethereal clock on his back sublimated—
... couldn't go through with this.
As the light of the spell disappeared, the guardians all tentatively raised their heads, their expressions reflecting a tumultuous myriad of emotions.
Confusion, sadness, joy, surprise, and many finer nuances that the supreme one could not decipher through his compromised vision.
"A-Ainz-sama..?" Albedo ventured, tears of disbelief streaming down her ivory face.
"Don't misunderstand," the overlord began in a pained tone that belied his inscrutable expression:
"I haven't forgiven you. Your actions disgust me… but I… I can't…" he trailed off quietly, collapsing back into his throne depletedly, fiddling anxiously with the staff in his grasp.
"Just because I lack the resolve to kill you myself… as far as I'm concerned, you're all dead to me," he seethed quietly, bringing a hand up to cover his leaking eyes.
The guardians all flinched in response, their hearts stopped beating.
The dark-elf children began to sob uncontrollably.
"A-Ainz-sama!" Demiurge began in a panicked tone, clutching at his aching chest:
"P-please, don't say such things..!" he begged, breaking down before he could finish his sentence.
'To hear you say that… is far worse than death'.
Albedo could no longer bear this. This had all been her idea to begin with. She could tell her lord was not satisfied—but his detrimentally kind soul was preventing him from enacting the justice his heart desired.
Biting her lower lip, she stood up on shaky legs.
She would not let Nazarick be torn asunder because of her mistake.
She steeled her nerves, opened her mouth, and—
"Leave".
A command, barely audible, sharp like a knife, utterly tore through her fragile resolve.
"Just… fucking… leave..!" the overlord repeated, finally tearing his hands away from his face, revealing an expression that curdled the guardians' blood, made them recoil in fright.
It was a hideous expression, contorted by anguish, fury, and hatred. It was feral, savage, and wicked.
His features had lost all trace of the noble and intelligent allure they had come to revere.
It was enough to send the other seven guardians scrambling to their feet.
Yet to the Overlord's chagrin, they did not heed his order.
The more he looked at them, the more his blood began to sizzle, threatening to boil over.
They really did make him sick. He hated that he couldn't bring himself to harm them.
But this anger… needed to go somewhere.
If he did not act on it now, it would plague him, eat him alive, for the rest of his life—he understood this tacitly, instinctively: that's how potent his emotions were.
No, he could not sheathe his blade yet.
It needed to be bloodied.
And he knew exactly where he could achieve his catharsis: drown out his pain in a veritable ocean of blood, and then hopefully move on.
With a shadow looming over his face, the overlord rose from his seat.
"[Gate]," he whispered stoically.
And at the appearance of a swirling vortex, the guardians' hearts all skipped a beat in panic.
"A-Ainz-sama..!" they all cried in unison, taking a step forward—but the look he shot over his shoulder stopped them dead in their tracks, made their stomachs somersault defeatedly.
"W-where are you going, Ainz-sama..?" Shalltear ventured tearfully.
"That's none of your concern," he spat out callously, taking a step towards the portal.
"A-Ainz-sama wa—!"
"You know it's funny," the overlord bellowed, cutting Demiurge off: "you killed her out of fear of my leaving, and yet, in all my time as the supreme ruler of Nazarick…"
He trailed off for a moment, stopping just one stride short of the vortex:
"I've never wanted to leave you all behind as much as I do right now".
And with that, he stepped through the vortex—allowed himself to be whisked away to a destination unknown to the guardians.
And that terrified them.
They all stared vacantly at the space Ainz-sama had just been, in denial and disbelief.
'Devastated' could not even begin to describe how they felt.
The elf twins, Demiurge, and Shalltear all crumpled pitifully to their knees.
Sebas, Cocytus, Albedo, and Pandora's Actor were too stunned, too petrified to move.
Though they were surrounded by each other, they all felt hopelessly alone and empty in Ainz-sama's absence—their minds spinning numbly with their overlord's departing words. He had closed his heart off to them.
It had all happened so quickly… but now that he was gone, they couldn't help but wonder...
Would he ever come back?