The Domino Effect - Rewrite

by Darksinner666 - alt

Forced into hiding, Sygil has no choice but to find a solution to his predicament before it is too late using unconventional means. But when his world comes crashing down and the clock is ticking, what is a real demon from outside of Yggdrasil to do? Well, build an Empire to rival any seen before to gain revenge, and crush any who would dare oppose him by any means necessary...

9. Welcome to the New World (Part 2)

Disclaimer at start of First Chapter but again I do NOT own the rights to Overlord and its respective content.

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Suggested age rating: T

- Some strong language

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Chapter 9: Welcome to the New World (Part 2)

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"Halt, stranger!"

The voice of one of the armoured knights rang out loud and clear as Sygil and Maxmillian came to a stop.

There were five knights, decked out in full suits of body armour, with full-face helmets that concealed their facial identity.

"State your name and business, stranger." The leader of the patrol stepped forth, wearing more pronounced and ornate armour. The voice sounded male.

Maxmillian tensed up, his face tightening to contort in anger at the knight's insolence.

"The Lord's business is none of your concern, you miserable – " Sygil quickly cut him off before he could say anything to further cause trouble, judging by the way the knights were beginning to bristle.

"My name is Sygil, and this is my compatriot Maxmillian. Please do ignore his anger, we had a recent encounter with some less-than-savoury people earlier and we are little on edge. We would just like a place to temporarily stay and rest for the day, and then we will be on our way."

His words seemed to do little to assuage the knights, especially the ones that were resting their hands on their sword hilts, ready for a quick draw and fight.

Sygil attempted his most passive diplomatic face, and spoke reassuringly. "Please. I can assure you. We have no ill intent and our claims are genuine." Meanwhile inside, however, Sygil was questioning more of the absurdity he was faced with.

Why is there a patrol people that look ripped straight out of a medieval fantasy? By now, he had more questions than answers, and the way things were headed, they were not looking as promising as he wanted them to be.

The lead knight tilted his head to look both Sygil and Mamxillian up and down, sizing them for any threats they might pose, taking note of the blood and dirt on Sygils suit.

"Is that so? And who were these, 'less-than-savoury' people?" There was a slight edge to the knight's voice, and some of the other knights could be seen to fan out to form a semi-circle.

Neither Sygil nor Maxmillian liked what was going on.

"Some simple thugs, that's all," answered Sygil cautiously, careful not to let any undesirable emotions betray his features.

"And what happened to these thugs, pray tell? Because if you have led them here…." The warning was clear as a bell, and Sygil acted natural.

"No. They won't be following me or my compatriot. At least, if they know what is good for them." He didn't want to say that he had straight out murdered a bunch of anthropomorphic women dressed in ridiculous attire after they tried to capture and possibly rape him. He didn't know how the 'knights' would react to that. They would probably dismiss his claims or try to hinder him in some way, and he had things to do.

The lead knight seemed to scrutinise him and Maxmillian for a moment, before he finally snorted in amusement. "Hmmpf. Well, that's reassuring to hear, I suppose. I guess introductions are in order. The name's Cain, and I head the security around here. Any troubles, and my forces and I deal with it. While I would like to say welcome to Merigold, I don't know you or your... compatriot, well enough to say so. We don't exactly like the local populace walking around with weapons," Cain gestured to Maxmillian's military sabre he had sheathed, "so I'm going to need you to hand over any weapons on your person."

Cain seemed to notice the unimpressed look on Sygil's face and the way Maxmillian's eyes narrowed further.

Cain waved his hands placatingly. "Now, now. It's just a safety precaution. Here in Merigold, you're safe and sound. But, with people, especially strangers, walking around town with weapons on their person, it makes the people a little concerned."

Before Maxmillian could throw a retort, Sygil spoke up. "While I can understand and even respect the sentiment, I'm afraid that's not possible."

"Oh, really? And why is that?" Cain seemed to fake amusement.

"Maxmillian and I are party of the military, so for us to part with any means to defend ourselves would be a disgrace to our honour. As a fellow soldier, you understand, correct?"

Cain seemed less certain now, apparently willing to buy the bullshit Sygil was feeding him.

"Is that so. I was not aware of a military detail being present this far south," Cain sounded sceptical.

"We are part of an escort detail, and we ended up getting separated from the rest of the unit, unfortunately," lied Sygil. He didn't want to provide too much information. Things were already appearing to be quite strange and suspicious.

Cain seemed willing to voluntarily fill in the gaps of Sygil's lie.

"And your run-in in the forest with these 'thugs' you speak of? This caused your unit to be disbanded?"

Maxmillian seemed to understand what was going on, and spoke up to provide more information.

"That is correct. Right now we are trying to regroup and regain our bearings."

Sygil was impressed at Maxmillian's ingenuity in successfully contributing to the questioning.

"Really? I don't recall your uniform being standard issue, soldier? What unit are you part of."

Sygil couldn't believe his luck. This idiot was making things difficult. He just wanted to know where he was to get to the nearest safehouse of his. And he needed to do this with people preferably alive. Firstly, for the information itself, and secondly, because he didn't want to leave a bigger bloodbath trail for Asphaestus to potentially follow than he had already left in the forest.

Maxmillian responded to Cain's question coldly, hand resting on the hilt of his own sabre.

"That is a need-to-know basis."

There seemed to be a tense standoff between the two parties, until suddenly, a jovial, and portly voice rang out.

"Now, my, my! What seems to be the issue people! Surely we can all be civilised and get along with each other?"

Sygil shot his eyes to the right to see the newcomer.

A short, plump man in wealthy attire, reminiscent of a southern plantation owner during 18th century America, approached them.

He had a rather exaggerated moustache, clean-shaven sides, and a thinning head of hair.

Is this the guy from Monopoly minus the tophat?

Cain was quick to respond.

"Of course, sir, but only if others are willing to get along with us." Sygil could tell it was a pointed accusation at Maxmillian and him.

"Now, now. From what I can tell, these two gentlemen are hungry, and tired. We'd make poor hosts to refuse them." The newcomer seemed cartoonishly happy, and that made Sygil sceptical.

Cain seemed annoyed at the newcomers statement. "With all due respect-" the newcomer cut him off.

"Come now, Cain, they have things they need to do, things they can't do with you holding them back."

Cain seemed to want to dispute, but held back his tongue. Sygil, however, caught the angry mutterings of Cain under his helmet.

"Dumb bastard, this is what you pay me to do…."

Interesting, thought Sygil. He is under the employ of this stranger?

"I can take over our guests from here, Cain. You and your posse may return to your duties."

"And their weapons?" Began Cain in dispute of the stranger.

"You heard them, they are soldiers. They may keep them on them." The newcomer dismissed him with a smile.

Sygil couldn't see Cain's face, but imagined it was one akin to annoyance.

Cain faced Maxmillian coldly. "Your weapon is to remain sheathed at all times. Am I understood." And with that, Cain and his knights left to patrol elsewhere.

The newcomer strode forth slowly.

"I do apologise for Cain. He can sometimes take his duties quite seriously, but he means well." The newcomer put forth his hand to Maxmillian to shake.

"The name's Beovhan. Beovhan Augustus. And welcome, to Merigold!"

Maxmillian deadpanned Beovhan unimpressed, so Sygil took over, shaking his hand. "Likewise. I hate to be a bother, but could you be so kind as to point us to where we can get a map, paper preferably."

Beovhan quirked an eyebrow. "But of course it would be paper, what else would it be? Human skin?! Please, we're not like those savages that surround us. We are civilised. There's a cartographer, just down the main street. There, you will find all your needs, ranging from inns and bars for the finest food and lodging we offer to travellers, as well as all your essential needs!"

Sygil was somewhat taken aback by Beovhan's eagerness to help him.

"I can also set you up with some more, 'exotic' places to relax, if you wish. Merigold is prosperous for a reason, after all! We cater to all your needs."

"Thank-you, Mr. Augustus," replied Sygil warmly.

"Oh please, Beovhan is just fine. Once you're done, please do remember to stop by my place at the end of Main Street. I would be delighted to take you on board!"

This guy's a little too enthusiastic.

Sygil played it cool, though, and went along with the flow. "Of course, Mr. Beovhan, I thank you for you offer, but I am not interested in a long-term stay here. Maxmillian and I need to leave by the morning."

"Oh, I see. Well, be sure to drop by anyways once you're done. I run this place, so perhaps I can be of assistance. You can't miss my place, it's the biggest building of them all!"

With that, Beovhan walked away.

Maxmillian looked at Sygil who was watching the retreating form of Beovhan. Sygil finally spoke up.

"That man is way too cheery. Something's up with him." He pursed his lips, giving one final glance to the direction Beovhan disappeared to.

"Let's go. And try not to cause any more trouble than needed. Please."

Maxmillian nodded. "Of course sir."

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As the duo walked through the town, Sygil's mind was a whir, trying to piece things together. Too many things seemed out of place. Like a bloody fantasy.

As far as the map was concerned, why would he need a cartographer. It's not like we are in the middle ages.

Ignoring Beovhan's terminology, he decided to just find this 'cartographer' for a map. He wasn't intending to buy one. He just needed a quick glance to orient himself.

"There's the cartography place ahead, sir," reported Maxmillian, pointing out the painfully obvious to Sygil. He refused to comment on it, however.

The cartography building was several buildings ahead to the left, connected to many other buildings, or rather large houses. The houses looked equivalent to some of the old inns he had seen back in Scotland and Britain back in the day, though the architecture was different in parts, incorporating designs from other civilisations. He didn't know which ones specifically, however, as it wasn't his forte or area of expertise.

Sygil opened the wooden door, and was greeted with a small room with a counter directly in front. A mix of glass and wooden shelves rested on either side of the counter. Leaning on said counter from behind, was an older man, portly in shape with what appeared to be a white butcher's smock. Said man was completely bald, with no facial hair whatsoever. His facial features were worn from both age and the sun.

Upon closing the door, Sygil hoped the man would look up from leaning on the bench to acknowledge him. Alas, that was not the case.

Sygil and Mamxillian walked towards the counter, and Sygil coughed to get the man's attention. That didn't work, so Sygil coughed a little louder. When that didn't work, Sygil was about to call out when -.

"Wake up, you great supine, protoplasmic, invertebrate jelly! My illustrious lord has graced you with his presence, so face him when spoken!"

Maxmillian's loud and sharp outburst caught Sygil off-guard and garnered the man's attention, who nearly jumped out from his slouch in surprise.

"Ye-argh what the fuck!" The man shot out rapidly as he scrambled to stand up properly. He turned to take in Sygil and Maxmillian, glaring at both of them.

"Get the fuck out of my shop!"

Sygil put his hands to placate the angry man," I do apologise for my partner's rudeness. He seems to not know how to speak to people properly," Sygil shot a warning glance to Maxmillian, who was currently embattled in a contest of glares with the man he had offended.

The man crossed his arms, before huffing. "I don't care! You can both take a hike! Fucking people these days…" He muttered that last part under his breath.

"We're just here for a map; we're a little lost."

"Did you not hear a word I said!"

"I did, but I am here as a potential customer. I promise not to cause you any more trouble."

Internally Sygil was groaning. Why the fuck can't something go easy for me for just ONCE in my fucking life!

The man scrutinised them both, until he relented.

"Fine. I'll talk to you. But he!" he gestured to Maxmillian, "has to shut the fuck up or I'll shut him up myself, ye' hear!"

Maxmillian was about to say something, but Sygil beat him to it.

"Just do as he says Maxmillian. It's not worth it." Maxmillian wanted to protest, but he relented under Sygil's look. The Supreme Being's orders took precedence after all.

Sygil looked back at the man, a small smile on his face, hoping to put past grievances behind.

"Great, my name's Sygil – " "-I don't give a fuck about your name, are you gonna buy something or not? Cos if not, there's the fucking door." He gestured to the door with his thumb.

Sygil's eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Stuck up prick.

"That depends if you have any quality maps."

The man narrowed his eyes, speaking gruffly.

"My maps are plenty good! Are you gonna buy or not."

"Well, what have you got?" Sygil tried his best to ignore the man's abrasive behaviour, though to be fair, Maxmillian was at fault. That would be something he would have to address later.

"What are you looking for?"

"A world map for starters, like an atlas. Maybe one of the country we're in and where we specifically are." Sygil's patience was being tried right now.

The man scoffed.

"Well," he began sarcastically. "A world map! I'll just pull one of those outta my ass real quick. Let me go fetch one yer majesty."

Before Sygil could say anything, however, the man snarked at him.

"You fucking idiot. Ask for something more realistic. As for an 'atlas', I've no idea whatever the hell that is."

Sygil clenched his fist and teeth in frustration and interrupted before the man could continue.

"Just show me what maps you have then, I'll consider purchasing one once I see the quality for myself."

"You can have a quick glance is all. Anything more than 10 seconds and you have to pay for it. You got that!"

Sygil waved him off calmly, though internally he was tempted to string the bastard up by his neck.

"Sure, just get me a map."

"Wait here. And don't touch anything!" With that, the man left to go grab something from behind him out of sight.

"Just say the word sir, and this inbred bastard will be singing you answers like a song-bird." Maxmillian had a tight grimace plastered on his face, and the way his hand rested on his sword was not doing much to reassure Sygil.

"I would appreciate it if you would not threaten people out of context Maxmillian," sighed Sygil.

"Word tends to spread fairly quickly, and I really don't need that sort of attention on me right now. Just ignore it for now, at least until I say so. Besides, people like him," he gestured as the man started to come back, "tend to get their fair due in time."

The man quirked an eyebrow at Sygil, catching the last part. However, he failed to understand what he was referring to and instead opted to roll his eyes before laying a new map on the table.

"Your ten seconds starts now," he spat.

Sygil and Maxmillian wasted no time, looking at the map. For Maxmillian, his maxed out stats allowed him to absorb many of the map's details far more quickly. For Sygil, however, he was less concerned about absorbing the map details so much as he was staring in disbelief and shock, daresay even offense.

After three seconds of looking at the map, he shot his gaze back up to the man.

"What the fuck is this?"

The man was caught off-guard at Sygil's exclamation, and was about to retort angrily, but Sygil beat him to it.

"I asked for a MAP! Not a drawing of some fantasy land."

The man stuttered in shock.

"Wh-what?! Are you fucking daft?!" He began indignantly.

"I don't know what a Re-Estize Kingdom is, but you're fucking with me right now. Go back into the room there, and get me a proper map."

"I don't know how retarded you are, but that 'Re-Estize Kingdom' is the name of the kingdom you're in, you stupid cunt."

Sygil's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Get back into the room and get me a PROPER map!"

The man grumbled as he grabbed the map and went back into the room. "Why the fuck do I get the loopy fuckers."

When the man came back, Sygil was waiting impatiently.

"Did you get an actual map this time?"

"Yes your majesty. One map coming up," snarked the man.

He laid the map out in full for Sygil to look at. Sygil looked at the map for several seconds, before sighing in exasperation.

"Jesus Christ….," began Sygil, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, briefly glancing at Maxmillian before returning his gaze back to the man.

"A map of Earth! EARTH! Have you heard of it, or is your head so far up your own ass you've gone blind!"

"You fuck-head. Can't you read a map! This is our world we live in! Basic knowledge even a peasant would know!"

"Really now? I just want a map of the area I'm in, is all. I'm not interested in your games."

"Are you gonna buy the map or not," shot the man impatiently.

Sygil took a proper glance at the map, taking in the names of the locations, the geography, everything. He probably wouldn't remember half of the shit, but from what he could get, it didn't seem to be any Earth continent he was aware, eschewing the fact Earth did not exactly have a Re-Estize Kingdom as far as he was concerned.

Though, the more he looked at the map, and recalled the past experiences over the past day and night, the more he began to think.

This isn't a coincidence. Something's not right.

He was broken from his thoughts by the man, however.

"Your ten seconds is up. That's 2 gold coins for the map, plus another gold coin for being a straight out dick to me."

Even the language and terminology everyone used was indicative of something wrong. Who bartered in gold coins in this day and age anymore? Very few, if at all. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like he was no longer on Earth, but in some strange medieval land.

"Don't play deaf with me now! What's next, you conveniently have no money!" The man began to rant, until Sygil had enough of his thoughts being interrupted and spoke up.

"I'm not paying anything. You have nothing useful anyways." The man seemed to turn red at that, before he finally exploded, yelling at them both and pointing to the door.

"GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY SHOP! NOW! You fucking dim-witted idiots!"

Sygil, too busy in his thoughts to care, wordlessly complied, beckoning to Maxmillian to follow.

As Sygil exited out of the door, Maxmillian followed behind, shooting a scathing glare to the shop owner, who returned his own in kind.

As Maxmillian let the door close behind him, both could hear the man shouting from inside.

"And don't come back! Worthless cunts!"

Sygil let a frown form on his face.

"Talk about a warm reception to the town," he muttered under his breath, sparing a glance down the street.

He could see, what he assumed was, Beovhan's residence that he had mentioned earlier.

Looking at Maxmillian, he gestured to the large mansion.

"Perhaps we can try our luck with a more… friendly host."

"If you wish sir, I can interrogate the cartographer for information. Since we appear to not be in Yggdrasil, I am confident that the Geneva Convention will not apply to us here, therefore we are not liable to the normal laws and statutes concerning torture and information gathering." Maxmillian was calm, and unfaltering in his suggestion, fully confident that the method would work.

Sygil shook his. "First off, the Geneva Convention applies to Earth, not Yggdrasil. Secondly, there's no need to bother. The guy seems mentally unstable anyways so interrogating him wouldn't yield anything valuable. Probably doing some drug… kingdom my ass." Sygil rolled his eyes at the shopkeepers words and the 'maps' he had been provided. He didn't want believe the man's words, but based on the past events in the last 24 hours, there was a small seed of doubt that did question if there was some truth behind the shopkeeper's claim.

So far, he had yet to see a modern technological item of the modern day nearby.

It's like I'm in a medieval town.

"Then where exactly are we?" Maxmillian's question was not a surprise to him, considering he was pondering that himself.

"I don't really know. Perhaps Mr. Beovhan can help us."

Maxmillian nodded slowly as they approached the mansion. "He seems quite eager to assist. That is indeed a smart choice for him."

Sygil shook his head slowly in scepticism. "Too eager. Something seems a bit off about him. Keep your guard up."

"Of course sir, though, may I inquire as to why you feel he is likely a threat? When I did an Appraisal on him, he wasn't even Level 1."

Sygil looked quizzically at Maxmillian's choice of words. "What do you mean an Appraisal? As in magic?"

Maxmillian continued unperturbed. "Yes sir. Did you not want me to have done so?"

"No, knowing everyone's strengths and weaknesses is important. I'm just surprised that you could do something like that in the real world. Can you perform a demonstration for me later?"

While he wanted to scoff at the idea of magic being performed, the fact remained that Maxmillian, an NPC he created in Yggdrasil, was currently conversing and interacting with him here in the real world.

"An appraisal, or other Tier magic?"

"If you can do both, then yes. Later though, we are nearly here." He gestured to the mansion as they arrived closer.

The mansion, true to Beovhan's words, was indeed quite large, about three stories high with just as many visible floors judging by the numerous windows. White stone and marble walls, with dark stone rafters, constituted the majority of the mansion.

A small fountain could be seen directly in front of the mansion doorway, with accompanying green shrubs and hedges surrounding the simple stone pathway that lead from the main street road. There was no fence to slow down trespassers, however.

Out of all the houses and buildings in the town so far, it was the most impressive.

As they walked up the footpath to the door, Sygil addressed Maxmillian.

"And to answer your question, yes I am cautious of Beovhan. For good reason too. He gives me a bad vibe."

With that, they were at door.

Sygil knocked sharply and loudly three times in succession, hoping to get someone's attention, if anyone was even home.

Several seconds later, the door could be heard being unlocked, and finally opened.

Before him to stood an average-height woman, dressed in a rather loose fitting, but fancy, white dress that covered most of her arms, body and the entirety of her legs. Her hair was weaved back in a bun, and a gentle smile radiated on her face.

Giving her a cursory glance over, she looked to be no older than her early thirties. She looked to be rather slim, save for a noticeable bulge from her stomach region.

"Yes? How can I help you?" She gently inquired.

Sygil coughed to clear his voice. "I am here to speak to Mr Beovhan Augustus. He insisted I come speak to him once I got the chance. Is he here?"

The woman gave him and Maxmillian a quick glance over, noting the dust and flecks of dried blood on Sygil's clothes. He really needed to get that cleaned up at some stage.

"Unfortunately, he is out right now. However, if you would like, you can come in and wait for him to return. He should be no more than half an hour at tops. He had some quick errands to run is all," she spoke sweetly to him, ignoring the blood on his clothes.

"That would be much appreciated, thank-you." He beckoned to Maxmillian to enter after him as the woman held the door open.

As they entered, they were greeted with a spacious waiting room, complete with tables and chairs. Upon one of the tables was a large vase containing several rather large purple flowers that were emitting a faint, but pleasant, aroma. While Sygil ignored them, Maxmillian seemed to analyse them for several seconds, before redirecting his attention to the woman before them both.

The woman closed the door behind them. "Please, take a seat. There's no nearby civilised settlements, so I assume you had a long journey and must be tired. I will go fetch one of the maids to bring you refreshments." With that, she disappeared around another doorway.

Maxmillian remained standing, hand resting on his sabre hilt, whilst Sygil sat down. He didn't bother to ask Maxmillian to sit down; if he wanted to he would. If not, that was his choice. Instead, he lost himself in his thoughts.

He recalled the maps he was shown, coupled with his encounters with strange creatures and animal-people, as well as Mamxillian's presence. The customs of the people of Merigold, ranging from the medieval architecture and lack of technology, to the clothes and mannerisms and terminology used by the residents, was off. Everything seemed to point to him being back in Yggdrasil. Except, his injury could be felt; Maxmillian clearly stated this wasn't Yggdrasil, and while he was ultimately unsure, he trusted an NPC to know its own environment more than him. Realistically, he doubted he was in Yggdrasil; the realism and return of physical sensations, such as touch, smell and many more, were indicative of that. That left three other possibilities.

One, this was all an elaborate hoax set up to confuse him, but he discounted that idea due to the absurdity of the notion, as well as the level of investment required to pull such a feat off.

The second possibility was that he was currently enduring a string of bad luck and had essentially 'teleported', for lack of a better word, into a remote part of Earth where stranger people existed. However, the fact that no-one had ever discovered these animal people and the seemingly primitive settlement of Merigold was bewildering to him. Perhaps a government cover-up? But even then, it would have been known in the supernatural world and he would have heard something concerning superstitious animal-folk.

That left the last, most baffling, and concerning, possibility. That he had ended up in a different world, whether a different time in history/evolution, or straight up a different world with different laws of reality and evolution. And the more he thought about it, the more it seemed a possibility.

"Did you want me to run an Appraisal on the woman and anyone else?"

Maxmillian's suggestion broke his train of thought, and he absent-mindedly waved a hand on agreement. "Yeah, go right ahead."

"Excellent, sir."

No sooner had Maxmillian responded did a maid appear around the corner carrying a silver tray containing three porcelain teacups alongside a teapot.

As the maid approached and set the tray on the table, Sygil took in her features.

She was dressed in black short-dress with gold-coloured embroidery that stopped at the knees. A white undershirt could be seen that stopped just shy of her elbows and was buttoned up to her collar-bone to cover any cleavage the dress itself would have left. Black stockings disappeared under her dress, revealing no skin, while black dress boots with a low heel travelled halfway to her knees from the ankles. A silver buckle and leather strap wrapped around her ankles. White gloves ascended half-way up her lower arms, leaving only part of her arms exposed.

Her head was hung low, so he couldn't fully discern her facial features, but her skin was tanned, whilst her wild, unruly hair, which cascaded beyond her shoulders onto her chest and back, was a rustic red to dark brown in colour. Perhaps the light was making it difficult to discern.

When she lifted her head upon placing the tray of drinks on the table, he caught two interesting features.

The first was a bluish, banded tattoo that wrapped around her throat like a collar, complete with diamond symbols and patterns that never exceeded the two thin band lines that acted as a border.

The second was her despondent, dead look of despair, as if she had given up all hope.

As she stepped back, he caught a third interesting feature, which was the pair of pointed animal ears akin to a wolf's adorned on the top of her head, barely hidden in the jungle of her head hair.

"Quite the looker, isn't she," called out the woman that greeted them both, rounding the corner to come sit in front of them both.

Sygil casually glanced back at the woman to reply.

"I guess. I'm not here for pleasantries though."

She shrugged indifferently as she slid into her own chair, pulling the hem of her dress up as she did so.

"Suit yourself. She does go cheaply for the night, if you change your mind, however."

Sygil slightly frowned, as did Maxmillian.

"Pardon?"

"She goes for about 10 Silver a session, per person. Most men usually take the offer, especially those interested in a bit of a rougher time," chuckled the woman, staring directly at Sygil, "She can be a bit of a fighter from what I've heard."

"I do hope you're not implying what I think you are," replied Sygil with distaste, the tone not unnoticed by the woman.

"My apologies, I just assumed with all the blood on you that you were a bit of a scrapper yourself."

"I prefer the term business-man," retorted Sygil with thin lips.

Sygil glanced at the maid, who was currently standing behind the woman to the distant side, out of the way he assumed, with her head hung low and her hands clasped in front of her.

"Perhaps your companion here would be interested in some time with her instead?" offered the woman.

That was it.

"You dare suggest that I, or even better yet, my Lord, the One and Only Supreme Being, should bed with that filthy demi-human?!" Hissed Maxmillian. The woman was taken aback while Sygil raised an eyebrow at Maxmillian's burst.

"Did you not hear what he just said! We are here on business related reasons ONLY!"

"That's enough Maxmillian!" warned Sygil. "Take a seat and calm down."

Maxmillian snarled at both of the women, but refused to sit down.

The woman spoke up, surprise written on her face. "I apologise, I didn't realise you actually disliked the demi-humans that much! I can organise for one of the human maids if you – " -"That won't be necessary," interrupted Sygil.

"If you insist. I didn't catch your names?"

"I'm Sygil, and this is Maxmillian. Please excuse his behaviour, he tends to speak without thinking sometimes." This is getting out of hand with Maxmillian!

"And your name is?" he rotated his right hand to prompt her for a response.

"Oh, I'm sorry, how rude of me! I'm Clair. Clair Augustus." Clair smiled sweetly as she straightened out her dress.

Sygil gestured to the maid. "And who's the maid?"

"Oh, her name's not important, but if you insist, we call her Trisha." Clair adopted a frown, however, as she continued.

"She's one of our favourites, does her work pretty well and brings in plenty of money on many nights, especially from the mercenaries. Though, she was a bitch to train at first, weren't you," she called to the maid coldly. Trisha responded monotonely. "Yes mistress."

Clair's sweet smile returned as she faced Sygil again. "As you can see, though, she's well domesticated now. Had to after she was brought in from those dreadful savage tribes in the forest. Murderous pack of brigands."

Tribes in the forest? Is she from Gallheia's tribe? Sygil pursed his lips.

"Really now?"

"Oh yes," nodded Clair as she reached for her tea to take a sip. After daintly taking a sip, she continued. "Her and a bunch of others were captured in a raid years back. My brother led the party to bring in some slaves for us to use. Unfortunately, half the party was killed, including my brother, but we managed to capture a fair few of them in return. Alas, half of the captured ones began to kill themselves, refusing to work for us. Some, however, tried to resist us. Trisha here was at the head of those that tried to resist. Despite her looks, she's a hell of a fighter, as were all of them. It took a fair bit of reconditioning to civilise them, especially her." She took another sip.

"Once we civilised them, we had to operate on them all and brand them to prevent them using magic. Many died in the operations, but Trisha here! Trisha was strong! She endured, as did several others. We keep them employed in our business, but Trisha here, she works around the mansion. Keeps it clean and helps satisfy any of our clients or hired hands."

The more he heard, the more Sygil was repulsed. Is this land comprised of nothing but primitive savages!?

"And what exactly is your business, anyway?" He tried to remain cordial.

"When my husband returns, he'll tell you all about it. It's part of what he probably wants to speak to you about," she chuckled.

There seemed to be a pause, until Clair spoke again. "Have some tea. It'll be good for your health." Sygil politely declined, however.

"No thanks. I appreciate the offer but I'm not thirsty."

"You're certain?"

Maxmillian spat at Clair in contempt. "Are you deaf? He just told you."

"Now, now, Maxmillian. No need to be rude."

"Sorry, sir."

"It's fine," sighed Clair. "I just thought you might like some."

The sound of the front door being opened caught everyone's attention.

"Ah, darling! You're home!"

Beovhan chuckled as he closed the door. "Yes honey, I'm back. Was following up a report from Cain when old Clive asked me to settle a complaint of his."

Beovhan walked over to Clair, giving her a loving hug and kiss, before taking in Sygil and Maxmillian.

"I see we have guests!" He exclaimed excitedly.

"Sygil, and Maxmillian right?" The cheery smile failed to leave his face. Sygil merely dipped his head slightly in confirmation. "Mr Augustus," he greeted.

"Please, I told you. You don't need to call me that," he politely waved the title away as he took a seat next to his wife.

"So, I assume you're here to hear what I have to say?" asked the portly man knowingly.

"Yes." Sygil didn't mince words, as evident by his curt reply.

"Well," began Beovhan, rubbing his hands together. "What did you want to talk about?"

Sygil raised an eyebrow as he leaned back into the seat, letting an arm dangle over the arm-rest, before replying with disinterest. "I don't know. You tell me, since you're the one that insisted I come here in the first place."

"Eh-he, er, well, yes," began Beovhan, scratching the side of his neck. "You looked like a traveller in need of some potential assistance. I like to help those I can."

"Really now?" Sygil wasn't buying it. "You just happen to help every stray that catches your eye?" Beovhan leaned over to grab one of the teacups, glancing at Sygil if he could have it. Sygil politely gestured to say 'help himself'.

Beovhan took a sip, before replying with a slight chuckle. "Well, when you put it like that…"

Clair joined in his chuckling. "Oh, dear. So kind and helpful as always. So, what was up with Clive anyway?"

"Oh, that? Apparently he had some, according to him anyways, rude and rowdy customers that he, and I quote here, 'seemed to come from the ass-end of nowhere and act like it too'. You know how he is though." He shrugged off Clair's question and took another sip of the tea, before facing Sygil and Maxmillian.

"I assume he at least answered your questions though?"

"And how would you know about that?"

"Oh, easy, Clive said two strangers were asking for where they were. Quite easy to piece together he was referring to you, especially considering we don't get many strangers here, after all. Did you get what you wanted, by chance?"

"Unfortunately no," Sygil ran a hand through his hair. "The places on his maps seemed a little… different from what I expected?"

"Foreigner?" Suggested Beovhan.

Sygil paused for a second, before answering. "You could say that. I was hoping to find my bearings, but, assuming what he showed on the map was true, I feel more lost than I was before."

Clair nodded sagely. "That's unfortunate to hear. If you're not from around here, where are you from then?"

"East of here," returned Sygil carefully.

"Oh my? How far? What nation?" Prompted Clair.

"Far east. Russia." He was just throwing a random nation out, hoping they would reply positively and say yes, they were familiar with the name Russia. Or anything at this stage.

Beovhan interrupted. "I haven't heard of this Russia? Is it beyond the Beastmen territories?"

Now it was Sygil's turn to be confused. "I haven't heard of this Beastmen territory you speak of."

"Then, how did you get here?" questioned Clair.

"That's what I'm still trying to figure out."

"Well surely you must have some idea?" Beovhan quirked an eyebrow as he asked, before glancing back at his wife. "Though, that probably explains your eagerness to get a hold of a map. If you had asked me, I would have been happy to provide you one!"

"If you have one, I would appreciate having a look, then. If it's not too much of a bother?" Especially considering he was essentially kicked out of the cartographer's store.

Maxmillian leaned over to whisper in Sygil's ear. "Pardon my ignorance sir, but we spent time going through the maps at the cartographers place. What makes you think he will provide anything different?"

"Maybe not, but I think it's a waste to not see what he might potentially have for a map. Besides, he's offering it to us freely, unlike our cartographer friend who wanted to likely extort us for gold. Which we don't currently have on us."

Maxmillian leaned back in understanding.

Beovhan chuckled heartily, before turning to the maid. "Trisha! Go to my office and fetch my map! Be quick about it!" He snapped.

"Yes master." Trish bowed her head before leaving the room to fetch the map.

As she left, Sygil inquired to Beovhan.

"So, Clair tells me you are involved in a business of sorts? Mind explaining what that business is?"

"Ah yes! Clair and I run a farming business. We are one of the largest suppliers of grain, oats and wheats for the Re-Estize Kingdom. We supply nearly 30% of the Kingdom's grain and oats. As such, we have quite a lucrative business."

"Is that what all those fields are then?"

"Yes. We have many leagues of property that expands right to the border edge of the forest. Though, such large property requires a lot more work than you could imagine."

Beovhan sighed as he placed his cup back on the table.

"Between the number of workers in the fields to maintain, as well as the guards we need to keep them in line and defend my property, it can be quite draining. Especially with those blasted savage tribes in the woods!" He spat the last part, like it left an offensive taste in his mouth just thinking about it even.

"Why do you need guards to keep the workers in line?" Sygil had a feeling he knew what the answer was, but he wanted to hear it straight from the horses mouth instead.

"Simple. We use demi-human slaves, and while they have been re-educated and civilised, we still need to keep a vigilant eye on them lest they try to think they can revolt or escape." Beovhan answered as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Beovhan looked quizzically at Sygil and Maxmillian upon noticing their displeased faces.

"Is there something wrong?"

Maxmillian answered. "It's disgusting that you would use demi-humans in such a way."

Beovhan looked taken aback, but Maxmillian continued. Sygil was internally face-palming, however.

"Such filthy creatures should be put out of their miserable existence. I don't know why you would trust them with your crops; human labour will always be much better. Frankly, I struggle to determine what's more offensive. Their presence in procuring human produce, or your willingness to use them."

Beovhan closed his mouth and Clair looked at him with surprise. "That's… a rather strong response?"

Sygil interjected. "What Maxmillian means is that using slavery will bring many inherent, and frankly, unnecessary risks. It is as crude and ineffective as it is barbaric. I was under the impression it was outlawed."

Clair scoffed. "And what, where you come from slavery isn't used? No offence, but your nation must be underdeveloped to not utilise such labour." Beovhan placed a hand on her shoulder. "Now, now, honey, we shouldn't jump to conclusions. Maybe they do things different. I'm sorry, she meant no offence." The last part was directed at the men adjacent from him.

"None taken," replied Sygil. "Though, I stand by what I said. Automated machinery is much faster, efficient and cheaper in the long run, instead of relying on unwilling labour. The cost of feeding and housing alone would be bothersome. And that's not taking into consideration that an unhappy workforce is a dangerous workforce. Are you sure you could handle the outcome when things get out of hand?"

Beovhan laughed, clapping Clair on the back, before proudly boasting. "That's a good one! Clair here is capable of Third Tier Magic. She put the magical seals around their wretched necks, and with the mercenaries we hired, there is no chance of a revolt occurring. Besides, even if they tried, which they won't, they are fully aware of the consequences. We've made sure of that."

As he finished, Trisha came walking in and presented the map to Beovhan, who took it from her, opening it up and placing it on the table beside the tray of drinks. Trisha simply stepped away to the side, waiting dutifully for an order.

"I wouldn't be too certain. You take away everything from a person, and suddenly they have every reason to fight back. Not just for themselves, but for their children and future generations." Sygil was stating facts.

Clair snorted. "I doubt that very much. We've ensured that our slaves can't have children again."

Sygil narrowed his eyes.

What?

"What do you mean?"

"Oh well we sterilise our slaves," explained Beovhan matter-of-factly. "Can't have them breeding! For the men we castrate them. For the women, we remove their womb, so they can never bear children again. Would be a pain if every client managed to successfully impregnate one after a single session. This way there are no future generations for them to have an incentive to fight back, as well as cuts back the costs of having to deal with pregnant slaves. Before, we'd have just sold them off or cut the baby out. But clients don't like heavily scarred females, and such procedures tend to have rather high mortality rates. It's easier this way for all parties involved."

Sygil was at a loss for words. He had encountered many messed up things in his long life, and he had even done some rather unsavoury actions in his life, but this? This was straight fucked up. He may have been a demon, but even he had standards.

"Really now? And what of your conscience? How does that feel?" implored Sygil.

Beovhan looked at Sygil questioningly. "What do you mean? They're just savages. Demihumans. No-one cares about them. They're nothing but a pest in these lands, and her tribe," he gestured to Trisha, "does nothing but going around and raping and slaughtering men, innocent boys even!"

Sygil leaned forward. "While I agree that rape and other such vile activities should not be allowed to go unpunished, what you are doing is no different to them. In fact, it makes you a hypocrite. It makes you just as much of a monster as the people you are fighting against. The only difference is you stoop down to their level and do it just because."

Beovhan seemed to grow angry at that. "Excuse me?! My wife's brother was brutally murdered by those savages! Are you saying I should welcome in the same vile cretin that desecrated his body into my home and forgive it?"

Sygil traced a gloved finger in the rim of the table, finding no dust. "Absolutely not. But, as the saying goes, you reap what you sow. And you are sowing the seeds of discontent amongst your 'employees' and further exciting the violence between the tribes and yourself. Sooner or later, it will catch up to you." There was a warning undertone in his voice.

"But enough of that," began Sygil, adopting a lighter tone. "As much as I may disagree with your choices, it is not my problem to deal with. Now, was there anything else you wanted to discuss with me?"

Beovhan was quick to put the unpleasantness behind as well, and he jumped straight in.

"Ah yes! Part of why I invited you here was because, seeing as you're travelling from afar, I figured you might be interested in some work to keep those bellies of yours fed."

"While I thank you for your offer-" "-I insist! You must be exhausted. I can offer one of the guest rooms for you to stay at. Please, stay the night! It's free, so you don't have to worry about coin."

Sygil tilted his head in suspicion, but Clair then spoke. "Please, at least for the night. It's going to be dark soon, and I know that the inn can be a little bit expensive. It's the least we could do." She had the same, sweet smile on her face.

He looked out the window behind him, and could in fact see the amber glow of the sun beginning to set, evident by the deepening shadows on the land behind him and in the street.

"Perhaps. If I were to take you on this offer, what's the catch?"

"Oh, there's no catch," waved Clair dismissively. "We can discuss your employment terms at dinner," she continued cheerily.

"I was not aware I was being employed? Nor do I have interest in working for you or anyone at this stage."

"But surely, now, you should wait until you hear the details," reassured Beovhan.

"But enough of that. We should discuss this over dinner. Besides, even if you're not interested, we can discuss arranging for transport to any of the cities within the kingdom if you need to, right?"

It was tempting, if only to gain more information. But was it necessary? No. Besides, something seemed off about Beovhan and Clair. And not just because they supported slavery and other associated barbaric practices.

Still, perhaps it would be worth it. He needed some time to think things over, however. He was currently undergoing what felt like an information overload today, and he needed some quiet time to reflect. And maybe gather some more information about the couple before him. And what better place than to go where loose lips float about; a bar.

"Perhaps later, then," suggested Sygil. "I would like to stretch my legs and familiarise myself with the town for a couple hours."

"That's fine, go ahead. Dinner will be ready in three hours anyways. Be sure to be back by then," smiled Clair.

"Trisha," called Beovhan. "Clear the table of drinks and wait in the kitchen for me."

Trisha quickly came to the table, bending over to grab the tray of drinks. As she did, however, Beovhan suddenly reprimanded her in panic. "Watch the map you fool!"

She quickly tried to tip the tray in the other direction to avoid spilling the drinks on Beovhan's map. Instead, the tea spilt all over Sygil's legs, the teacups bouncing on the soft carpet without damage.

Trisha's eyes met his with panic, and her breath hitched.

"You damned clutz! Look at the mess you made!" roared Beovhan, jumping up and grabbing Trisha by her free wrist to pull her in closer to him. Clair had a frown of disgust marred on her face as Beovhan yelled at Trisha again.

"You inbred fucking savage! Look at the mess you made!" A resounding smack could be heard as he backhanded her across the face, drawing some blood from her mouth. She took it all with silence and no resistance.

Sygil stared at the mess the tea had made on his pant legs. Ultimately, it was just a simple spill; an accident and nothing worth stressing over. As he looked up to see Beovhan tearing into the hapless maid, Clair apologised. "I'm so sorry for the mess. Sometimes those savages aren't fully trained well, and for that I do apologise." Sygil brushed off her apology however as he stood up.

"Do you enjoy causing trouble and embarrassing me in front of guests? Huh?! Well do you!" By now he was screaming in her face, and she kept her eyes downcast in shame and misery.

He reared his hand back to deliver another strike, and just as his fist was about to make contact with her face again, he felt a hand grab his.

Turning in surprise, Sygil was firmly holding his hand at bay with his own. He struggled to carry the punch through, but Sygil's grip was vice-like. Sygil spoke calmly.

"Now let's just calm down here, people. Nothing needs to devolve into violence, especially over something as trivial as spilt tea."

All eyes were on him now as Beovhan spoke up. "I'm sorry she made a mess of your clothes; she should know better!" "It doesn't really matter," sighed Sygil. "They're already filthy anyway, from the blood and dirt earlier, so I doubt a little tea at this stage is really going to be a game-changer. At least, not for me anyways." Sygil shot a pointed look at Beovhan.

"If you want to prove you are more civilised than these 'so-called' savages, prove it by showing restraint. I trust you can do that?"

Beovhan sputtered indignantly for a second, before sighing and relenting, letting go of the maid and slackening his muscles in the arm Sygil held. "I suppose it's unbecoming for a guest to have to witness such things. It is the duty of the master to ensure his slaves are well behaved. You have my sincere apologies for having to witness that and have that mess on you. Would you like your clothes washed? I can get one of the other maids to do that. Unless Trisha here," he glared at the maid, "can do that simple job without fucking it up!"

"That's unnecessary," coughed Sygil to gain his attention. He bent down to pick up the scattered teacups and kettle before placing both on the tray Trisha was holding.

"We'll be back in a few hours to talk. Try not to be too mad at her. Accidents do happen from time to time."

Walking around his chair, he beckoned to Maxmillian to follow him.

Maxmillian beat him to the door, opening it for him to leave out, before shutting it behind him.

As the door was closing, Sygil could hear Clair reprimanding the hapless maid.

Guess some things never change.

---

Maxmillian was the first to speak.

"They appear to have one of the ingredients to treat holy and unholy injuries in their possession."

"What?!"

"When you ordered me to conduct research on holy and unholy elemental magic, one of the ingredients to treat related injuries was a flower termed Alarosaceia. When combined with other ingredients, it can help. Following preliminary appraisals I conducted on the flower in their possession, I confirmed it is indeed Alarosaceia. I thought you would be interested to know is all? It was one of your orders back in Yggdrasil."

Sygil couldn't believe what he was hearing. A fictional flower that could help treat his infection was in the very room they were just in! He had to resist scoffing at the idea, but if it were true, then he could stand a chance, maybe. However, Maxmillian continued.

"I also performed an Appraisal on all of them. Clair appears to be Level 10. Interestingly, the demi-human is level 24, which is the highest I have encountered in this town so far."

Sygil held a hand up. "I'm gonna stop you right there. What do you mean levels?"

Maxmillian cocked his head to the side. "Levels, denoting overall cumulated strength, much like in Yggdrasil. Though I have yet to see if they can actually perform like I'd expect them to. A demonstration would be in order to see if they truly do compare to Yggdrasil levels, or else there might be a potential power discrepancy."

"Then perhaps you can perform a demonstration for me?" suggested Sygil. He was sceptical of this magic talk, but if even one person could perform it, then the likelihood he was not on Earth would indeed be a real possibility.

"Of course sir. What would you like me to perform?"

"Hmm. How about we first get away from the mansion."

"Absolutely sir. Would you approve of a Fly spell? Or perhaps a Fireball?"

Both of these 'spells', which were Yggdrasil spells, could present tangible physical evidence to him. Then again, Maxmillian was standing before him, alive and talking. Realistically, that should not have been the case. Perhaps, this would be a way to confirm?

Sygil nodded his head. "Indeed. Fly to roof of that building," he pointed to the tallest building in the street.

"Of course sir, will you be joining me?"

He had his doubts, but he might as well act calmly about it. So far, things were breaking reality. He doubted it could get even more absurd today than magic.

Except, when Maxmillian recited the spell, Sygil had to keep his jaw from dropping as the NPC floated to the roof of the desired building.

What?!

He shook his head to confirm he wasn't imaging things.

Since I count as a 'player', does that mean Yggdrasil spells can work for me too? No. I learnt that the other month. But…

The more he thought about, the stronger of a possibility it was. So, steeling himself, he tried.

"[Fly]." And fly, he did.

He had to hold his surprise as he felt himself levitate off of the ground and float rapidly towards where Maxmillian was. However, as soon as he looked elsewhere and thought of another building, he could feel himself change direction.

Is this linked to my thoughts?

Correcting his course to meet Maxmillian at the top of the building, he felt himself change direction to meet him.

It is linked to my thoughts!

He felt himself touch down next to Maxmillian, surprised at the revelation of the Yggdrasil spell working.

Wait. If [Fly] works, does that mean all my other Yggdrasil abilities work? Including the levels Maxmillian is mentioning?

"Maxmillian. Do I have a Level?"

"Yes sir. You are currently Level 81."

So I do have stats, and levels from Yggdrasil? But, that could only mean….

It finally dawned on him. Everything finally made sense. From the beast in the woods, to the animal people, to the medieval setting, different map of unfamiliar locations, to the presence of his Yggdrasil Levels and magic.

This wasn't Earth.

This was a different world altogether.

He recalled Maxmillian's words from earlier in the forest. "A new world indeed," he muttered.

But then, it sank in him. This wasn't Earth, which meant….

My safehouses! What about my safehouses! No! NONONONONOOOO!

He could feel uncertainty and panic try to grip him, but he refused to let it happen. But there was no denying the facts. He wasn't on Earth anymore. Which meant he didn't have access to any of his safe-houses to reorganise himself. What that also meant was he wouldn't be able to address his holy injury dilemma in any manageable way right now either!

Fuck! You have to be kidding me!

His eyes frantically darted around as his mind scrambled to think of something, anything!

If I don't have access to a safe-house, how can I properly deal with Asphaestus or this injury?!

The whole plan was to get to one of his safe-houses in the world. Any one of them, it didn't matter which one. But now, that plan was effectively ruined. All of his plans were!

He couldn't help contain himself anymore. He tried to remain calm, he really did, but faced with the reality he was going to probably die soon, he couldn't but scream out his anger in frustration.

"FUCK!"

"Sir, are you alright?!" Maxmillian was by his side in an instant, watching him carefully with worry.

After several seconds to calm down, he replied tersely to Maxmillian. "Yes. I'm fine."

"Then what are your next orders, sir?"

"I don't know Maxmillian, I don't know." At this stage, Sygil felt lost. What was he to do? How was he going to deal with his Holy injury?

Really, he just felt like getting drunk and trying to forget his worries , he didn't have the time to waste.

Accepting my shoddy reality it is then…

He felt himself slump down, seemingly in defeat, as he began to think hard and desperately. Hoping to find a solution to help him in his predicament.

He sat there for what felt like an eternity, contemplating all the evidence presented before him. He couldn't afford to allow himself to wallow in despair. He needed to keep going, find a way somehow, no matter what. He needed to atone to see her again, and he was damned if he was going to let this setback stop him. He would find a way. He always had.

The more he thought about his predicament, the more anger welled up in him.

This is all thanks to that bastard Asphaestus! If it wasn't for Asphaestus, he wouldn't be in this predicament, stuck in a foreign world with a borderline incurable Holy infection. Oh, what he would give to personally wring that bastards neck himself….

But he lacked his safehouses, and all of the associated tools and contacts at his disposal. Hell, he lacked most of the components needed to heal himself. The only things that could help heal him were relegated to the world of fantasy, such as magical concoctions containing rare herbs and ingredients. Alarosaceia… Didn't Maxmillian just say though…?

Slowly, it dawned on him. He may be trapped in a foreign world, lacking the equipment, resources and knowledge, but that didn't mean he was at a complete disadvantage however. A new world meant new opportunities after all.

Slowly realising the true depth of his situation, he couldn't help but allow a dark smile to morph on his face, a low, staggered chuckle emanating from his lips.

---

Maxmillian stared at his Creator intently, ready to perform any task that he wanted from him in a heartbeat. His Creator currently seemed displeased; about what, he was unsure. If he could find the cause of his problem, he would gladly destroy it for its insolence! Alas, his creator was remaining tight-lipped about what was making him upset.

Sygil appeared to be deep in thought, and for what he estimated to be nearly an hour, he sat there. And there was nothing he could do to help his creator, so he stood there by his side, dutifully.

He watched as the sun set, and night began. He watched and observed as the street lamps were light by passing patrols below, and he watched as Sygil continued to sit there, hands steepled for his chin to rest on. Maxmillian could feel himself become unnerved. Was his creator aright? It would seem the opposite in fact. Regardless, he waited for Sygil to do something, to say something, anything. But he didn't.

But then, Sygil finally stirred, a low chuckle coming from his lips, like an inside joke that only he understood and found amusing.

By now, the moon was out, casting its own light into the town streets and the surrounding fields that could be seen nearby.

Sygil stood up, and walked to the edge of the building they atop of, leaning over the stone balcony to look at the minimal town life several stories below.

Maxmillian waited with anticipation, until finally, Sygil spoke. It wasn't with concern, or uncertainty, or even despair. No, it was with conviction, with strength and resolve.

"Maxmillian," started Sygil with steel resolve in his voice.

"Yes sir?"

"Are you certain we're not in Yggdrasil?"

"Positive sir."

He could hear his creator lightly chuckle. "I see. Then we truly are in a foreign land… a new world if you may."

Maxmillian wasn't sure how to answer to that; it was seemingly basic knowledge to understand as far was he was concerned. Was there perhaps something he was missing that Sygil was aware of?

"We are presented with a unique opportunity before us, Maxmillian. Before us is a world with different rules, different circumstances, and different potential than either of our original worlds."

Either original worlds? What does he mean?

Sygil continued.

"Do you know that that means for us, Maxmillian?"

"I am unsure sir?"

Sygil allowed a small smile to form on his face. "It means we have a world that has much to offer us, and all we have to do is take it. You seem to remember the research I tasked you back in Yggdrasil?"

"Of course sir."

"Well, with the presence of one of these otherwise non-existent ingredients, there is likely much more to be exploited in this world. This world could be the key that I am looking for."

"If I may ask sir, what is it you specifically are looking for?"

Sygil pursed his lips, before frowning slightly.

"How loyal are you to me?" Sygil watched Maxmillian carefully, gauging for a response.

"You are my creator, the one and only Supreme Being. As such, my loyalty lies only with you, and your wish is my command. I will gladly give you my life. To die for you would be an honour sir. Give me any command, and I will follow it to the letter."

He spoke with conviction, fully believing every word he spoke. Sygil watched him for several more seconds.

"Prove it."

Maxmillian didn't even hesitate, drawing his sabre, and before Sygil could even react, he reversed his grip so the blade was pointed to his own stomach, and then he thrust.

The blade barely depressed the uniform when he felt Sygil wrap a strong hand around his own wrist, preventing him from actually impaling himself.

"Are you crazy?!" exclaimed Sygil, causing Maxmillian to look at him in confusion.

"Sir? Is this not what you wanted when you wanted me to prove my loyalty?"

This guy's fucking fanatical! Sygil didn't voice his thought, however.

"I think you've proven your point to me. I trust your loyalty."

"Your trust will not be misplaced, my Lord!" Maxmillian almost seemed to beam at him like a child.

Sygil released his grip on the sword, ordering Maxmillian to sheath it.

"I ask for your loyalty, because I will need it for what is to come soon."

"You need not ask sir, I will always be loyal to you, no matter what sir!"

"Your words mean a lot to me, Maxmillian, but we'll soon see…."

Maxmillian was about to object and further declare his fealty, but Sygil continued.

"We first need to know how this world works; what rules it operates by, and how to properly exploit those rules survive." And from there, find a way to get back at Asphaestus. I have no idea if he was transported here with me. Only time will tell. First thing's first, though. I need to find a way to stop this infection before things get worse.

"Just say the word, and I will bring this world to its knees for you to rule over." With those words, Maxmillian prostrated before him on one knee with his head bowed.

"I'm not interested in the world right now… though…" he looked forlornly at the near empty streets below, recalling the enslaved maid back with Clair and Beovhan. "It wouldn't hurt if I took a piece of this world to help my goals."

"Then allow me to serve you how you see fit, and together, we can make this world your throne to sit upon."

No words were exchanged further, but the more Sygil thought about it, the more tempting the idea would sound under normal circumstances.

If I didn't have to deal with this infection and Asphaestus, then perhaps I would have indulged myself in the idea of ruling over a world and changing it? It most certainly wouldn't hurt to cleanse it….

"One thing at a time, Maxmillian. One thing at a time…" And with those words, Sygil beckoned Maxmillian to follow him.

"First, we need to gain information. Specifically, I am curious about our gracious hosts, Mr and Mrs Augustus."

As they approached the edge of the building to look upon the street, Sygil glanced at Maxmillian with a small smile.

"And what better place to gain the preliminary information we need than by going where loose lips float about."

Maxmillian followed Sygil's gaze as it rested upon an inn across the street. "An inn…" supplied Maxmillian.

"Precisely."

---

Merigold's inn tended to have a rather active night life despite the town's small size. Most of the residents, which weren't many, would often spend part of their night at the inn, eating food, getting drunk, poorly attempting to hook up with any woman that fancied their eyes, and otherwise waste away several hours of their existence.

It was the beginning hours of night, and the town's meagre number of residents were starting to fill in, some simply for a light meal and drink, others for a longer night of booze and unsuccessful flirting.

In total, the town likely held only 100 odd residents, more akin to a village. However, the wealth brought in by the Augustus family made the residents feel like nobles, and thus the small town could afford to have better quality housing and business'. The occasional traveller also helped bring in some additional coin, but it was mostly through the labours of the Augustus family and their profitable wheat and grain business that the town prospered.

The Augustus family were well known throughout the small town, and were in fact considered to be the official leaders and representatives for the town and its interests. And it was precisely for these reasons that Sygil was visiting the inn, with Maxmillian in tow.

"Forgive me for my ignorance sir, but why are we heading to the inn? Why not just simply ask Beovhan and Clair themselves. Demand the information, and if they refuse to comply, torture them?"

Sygil sighed at Maxmillian's heavy-handed concept of an approach. "Because, there are some things we will likely not be told. Rumours tend to circulate, and their credence shouldn't be entirely dismissed. And I want to get a better grasp of those two before our dinner with them in…" he pulled his sleeve back, revealing his, surprisingly, still functional watch. "Two hours."

"Why are we even bothering with this dinner formality?"

"Because, there is much to be possibly gained. Supplies, funding, information, and possibly more. First though, we must gain some world information, get a feel for the local populace. Only then, can we make a move on them."

They arrived at the inn's entrance, and could vaguely overhear muffled chatter from inside.

"We will need some currency for later. We'll split up and gather information. I trust you can do so without causing a scene?" Sygil's quirked eyebrow was doubtful, but he could hope.

"Of course sir, if that is your desire."

"Good. If you can, SUBTLY… try to get some money from the patrons in here. Bribery tends to help people speak more freely." He stressed the word, not wanting another scene to be caused.

"Of course sir. You can count on me."

"Good. Meet me in the front when you are done gathering information. And remember, try not to draw too much attention to yourself."

With that, Sygil opened the door.

---

The inside of the inn was typical to many small restaurant bars, with numerous wooden tables and chairs scattered about the floor, and a bar at the far wall where a bartender was providing a range of drinks to several seated patrons. The odd waiter or two could be seen floating around, serving food, collecting finished meals and otherwise dodging drunken compliments and flirting.

Few people turned to acknowledge the newcomers, the moderate chatter drowning out their entrance.

Sygil and Maxmillian walked down the steps onto the floor. As they walked by some of the patrons, they slowly started to get some looks from people, unused to seeing the strangers and their foreign attire.

Sygil decided to head straight to the bar where the bartender was, while Maxmillian headed to where other customers were.

He took note of the bartender, a rather burly woman with worn features and braided hair, who was currently focused on collecting the empty food plates from one of the waiters.

Taking a seat next to a drunk patron currently slumped on the bar bench, he observed a small, loose coin pouch clasped in his hands under the bench, out of sight to most people, especially the bartender.

A subtle glance around confirmed that most of the attention was off of him now, so his sleight of hand went unnoticed as he relieved the almost unconscious patron of his money.

People don't talk unless there is something in it for them. It was a well known, fact, and while he would try to gain free information, if need be, hopefully the coins in the bag would help 'convince' a person to speak more freely.

This almost going to be too easy. He thought in satisfaction. All he needed to do was do a preliminary check of the coin pouch to get a rough idea of what was in it. While he had no idea how the currency worked, it would at least let him know what to somewhat expect.

Upon opening the pouch, he had to resist giving in to frustration, holding back a twitching eyebrow.

What fucking idiot puts goddamn rocks in a coin pouch?!

The pouch was filled mostly with rocks that had no value whatsoever, and only several coins.

Pulling the coins out, he counted two copper coins, and one silver coin.

He had no idea what their worth was, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be enough.

"Can I help you?" The bartenders gruff voice broke his attention, and he looked up to face her.

Well, no time like the present.

"Yes actually. I was curious as to how such an establishment can sustain business so well considering the town's meagre population."

The woman scoffed. "You ain't from around here, are you."

Sygil smiled sadly. "Unfortunately. I was wondering if you happen to know anything about Mr and Mrs Augustus?"

"What's there to know? They're a successful couple that helped make this place prosperous."

"Really now?"

"Yeah. Before they took over the farming business, this place was nearly dry as a bone. Piss poor too. But they got it up and running. The people here respect them for it. Love the conditions too. Can't say I blame 'em."

"Even if such prosperity is built on slavery?"

The bartender scoffed. "As if anyone gives a damn about those rabid animals. It's no secret how this town prospers, but the way folks around here see it, they had it coming. Personally, I think they got off light."

He furrowed his brows in thought. "Why do you say that?"

"Those damned demi-humans are the reason my father's dead. Raped him, then killed him. It's what they do. Part of their messed up thinking. Like animals, they are."

"Are they all like that, though?"

"Oh probably not. But they'll go that way sooner or later. Better to kill 'em off before they can cause problems. Unfortunately, Merigold isn't a big place. And despite being the Kingdom's bigger producers, we get piss all for protection. Instead, Beovhan hires mercenaries to protect the place, keep the slaves in check, and otherwise keep those savages back."

"And have they been effective?"

"They're last raid was years ago. Killed a lot of our men in the process, but we killed several of theirs, and captured a fair few. Most chose to off themselves, but the ones that didn't? Well, they've been working for us now. They do a lot of the grunt work in the fields. Though Beovhan keeps a couple out for display and hire for those that need to relieve themselves. Personally, I think it's not worth it, but hey, it reimburses Beovhan for his efforts and helps keep this place plenty afloat."

"Do the slaves do all of the farming, then?"

She crossed her arms. "Most of it. Enough of them to do it. Plus, between the mercenaries and Beovhan, they can get a lot done. Despite their tendencies, they're productive workers. Provided they have the right motivation, of course."

"Of course," nodded Sygil slowly.

"But aren't they warriors, though? How do a couple mercenaries keep them from revolting?"

"HAH! The mercenaries just keep them in line. What prevents a revolution is the magic seals that prevent them from using magic. It also helps dampen their strength I hear. Between the reconditioning, mercenaries and seals, they're pretty docile now."

Sygil was about to inquire more, but the woman cut him off. "Anyhow, are you going to order a drink or not? Cos' I got customers here."

He was about to reply, when the doors to the inn suddenly crashed open, revealing the armoured knight mercenaries from earlier in all their boisterous glory enter.

All eyes seemed to snap to them as five of the mercenaries entered. The same five from earlier that he had encountered.

Currently they were descending the steps, removing their helmet as they approached the bar.

Noticing some of the eyes upon them, the leader of the group, Cain, Sygil assumed from the voice, barked out to the patrons.

"What? Something funny?"

That was enough to encourage the patrons to return to their meals and their beverages.

Sygil could hear the footsteps approach him from behind.

Why do I get the distinct feeling this isn't going to end well?

"You're in my seat," started Cain contemptuously.

Upon closer look, Sygil took in the mercenaries features.

Cain had short-cut blonde hair, with a matching moustache, and piercing blue eyes. I already hate this guy.

Behind him stood four other similarly armed and equipped mercenaries. One was clean-shaven with light stubble and a dead look to his already dull eyes. Another mercenary had wild, unruly hair with a matching beard and moustache. The third mercenary was a woman with long flowing blonde hair and emerald eyes. The fourth mercenary was a rather large and muscular mercenary that sported a buzz-cut, well manicured goatee, and was littered with scars of various shape and sizes.

"You're the mercenaries from earlier, aren't you?" Sygil ignored him, opting for a question of his own.

By now Cain was in his face. "Did you not hear a fucking word I said," growled the man irately.

"Well, are you?"

"Yeah, we are. Now move, or I'll do it for you myself." Cain made motion to grab his sword as a warning.

Sygil, not currently interested in a conflict yet, stepped off of his bar seat to allow Cain to sit down. Cain merely snorted in disgust at him as he strutted by, taking his seat and immediately ordering some ale from the bartender.

The other mercenaries made to follow suit, and had barely taken a seat near Cain when Sygil called out to Cain.

"How much are your services?"

Cain snorted as if he could not believe what he had heard, before craning his neck to face Sygil.

"Depends. Right now, I'm kinda not interested in offering my services. So why don't you – " "-That's not what I asked," warned Sygil, his features narrowed.

"How much are your services currently."

Cain smirked as he stepped off of the barstool. He strutted up to Sygil until he was in his face.

"Much more than you could afford. Plus, I get extra bonuses as well. What would you offer?"

"I'm not. I was just curious is all."

Cain's features morphed into anger. "Are you done wasting my time cunt, cos' if you don't fuck off real soon, your life is gonna get pretty shitty pretty quickly."

"Then I guess we're done." With that, Sygil started to walk away. The mercenaries were inconsequential, and likely only loyal to money. They could be dealt with as needed. For now though, he might as well check up on Maxmillian to make sure he -

"THE FUCK YOU SAY!" A loud, angered shout rang out from across the room, gaining everybody's attention.

Sygil wanted to facepalm, noting the shout came from the table Maxmillian was currently seated at.

Why?! Just for once, Maxmillian, be nice! Please!

He was going to reprimand Maxmillian, but then two men started to brawl at Maxmillian's table.

What's going on? Those thoughts weren't limited to just Sygil, as everyone in the bar seemed to have the same thoughts.

Sygil strode over, quickening his pace, while Maxmillian stood up and addressed Sygil, subtly scooping up the loose coins on the table.

"Sir, I have gathered valuable intel. Would you like me to recount?"

"Belay that. What is going on?" He glanced at the two men fighting, and he ushered Maxmillian away from the fight so they wouldn't get caught in the crossfire.

A crash could be heard as one of the tables was knocked over. Ironically, the mercenaries who were meant to be guarding everyone decided to ignore the fight, leaving the bartender and a few waiters/waitresses to come over and try and pull the fighters apart, who continued to hurl both verbal and physical insult to each-other.

"Unfortunately, the one male I was talking to made reference to the 'Re-Estize army being nothing more than a rabble of peasants who couldn't win a dick-measuring contest even if they fought against a woman'. Apparently male two took offence, as he is a former Re-Estize soldier, and hence this fight occurred." Maxmillian was recalling without investing any emotion, droning on as if a robot.

"And you're sure you didn't say anything that might have pissed one of them off?" Sygil wanted to believe Maxmillian, but he couldn't help but voice his scepticism.

"Positive sir. You stressed being subtle and cooperative to gain information. It is their own fault for being so petty and stupid."

"Hmm, okay. Regardless, what did you get?" Sygil led them both to a quiet booth, where they both sat down. The fight died down as the bartender delivered a haymaker that knocked one of them out, and the second was dragged over and tossed out the door with a scream and a warning not to come back.

They paid them no heed, however, as it no longer concerned them.

"Apparently magic exists here, that's certain," began Maxmillian, leaning over to Sygil. "However, most mages average the Second Tier. Third if they're good. And fourth if they are really talented."

"And?" Prompted Sygil, still curious.

"Apparently, it's a racial limitation, much like in Yggdrasil."

Sygil frowned. Did Yggdrasil's magic, and attributes carry over to this world somehow? Since levelling should be impossible in the real world. New or not.

"Furthermore," continued Maxmillian. "There are also numerous races of demihumans which inhabit this world and they often have their own limitations and adaptations of magic. There's not much more that was provided, so I feel further independent research needs to be conducted into the matter."

Sygil hummed thoughtfully, stroking his chin with his thumb. "I see…"

"Did you find anything considering the Augustus' sir?"

Sygil steepled his hands, resting his chin on them. "Not much. They're apparently influential around here, and supposedly helped pull this town out of squalor years back. Now they run a farming business using slave labour. Interestingly, since there's no standing military presence here, it's up to contracted mercenaries. Even then, most of their duties, it would seem, are just policing the slaves."

Maxmillian frowned as he processed what little information he was provided. "Do we know how many mercenaries there are?"

"At this stage, no. But judging by the size of Merigold," he gazed at the patrons in the inn, "I would say there's probably not too many. They need housing, and considering all we've seen is farmland, it's probably safe to say that Beovhan keeps both his slaves and mercenaries close-by. A good defence, quick and easy to house and manage, and quick communications if something goes afoul."

"Are you certain that's the case, sir? I don't mean any disrespect at all," Maxmillian was quick to apologise, but Sygil waved him off. "Relatively. The question is, however, where are the slaves kept, how many of them are there, and how many mercenaries are there?"

"From what I managed to gleam, the slaves are housed in the town somewhere," supplied Maxmillian.

"Hmm. We need more information. And we need it without rousing suspicions," muttered Sygil thoughtfully. Maxmillian cocked his head, unsure of what his Creator was planning. "Sir?"

Sygil locked eyes with Maxmillian, who could feel them burning into him. "The best way to get the information we need is from the source itself. And we have access to three sources right now. One of which will probably be eager to help us…." While Sygil spoke deliberately, he did allow a small smile to form on his face.

"Do you mean the Demi-Human slave from the mansion?"

"Indeed."

Sygil leaned back as he spoke. "We're in a new world, Maxmillian. And while I have lost many advantages as a result, I have also been granted many new ones."

Maxmillian continued to listen with rapt attention. "The use of magic and Yggdrasil abilities in this world can potentially be a game-changer, and if exploited correctly… they can be a deciding one."

By now, Maxmillian was beginning to see what his Creator was starting to imply. However, Sygil continued resolutely, the shadows deepening on his features as he spoke.

"The presence of the flowers you observed in the Augustus' residence is indication that other potential ingredients for our research from Yggdrasil likely do exist here. Such ingredients can be used to create Holy and Unholy remedies alike. Something which I have much invested in for to quickly succeed. It is imperative, that I find and create these remedies as soon as possible."

"Forgive me for my lack of understanding sir, by why are you so keen on creating these remedies anyways?" Maxmillian was genuinely confused. His Creator was a Supreme Being, so surely nothing could be capable of harming him? Unless it was so he could reverse engineer the applications of such remedies to harm any Holy and Unholy opponents alike.

Sygil looked at the patrons and the surrounding brick and stone walls, illuminated with primitive torches and fire, before allowing the smirk to dissipate from his face, replaced with a more neutral expression.

"I have many enemies, Maxmillian. And while I do not know where they are currently, the threat they pose is very real. As such, it is imperative that we create these cures and ensure their application works. I'm no fool, however, and know such an endeavour of the magnitude before us will take time and resources." It wasn't exactly an answer to the question, but Maxmillian had no choice but to accept it.

"Earlier, you asked me what I planned on doing. Well, simple…" By now, Sygil was boasting a cruel smile as numerous thoughts and plans ran through his mind.

"I'm going to create an empire." He let the words hang in the air. By now, Maxmillian's brows were furrowed as he processed what Sygil had confided in him. Sygil continued.

"First, it will provide me the resources and manpower needed to expedite the creation of the cure I want. Secondly, it will allow me to eventually establish a power structure which I can use to deal with my enemies when the time comes."

"How do you intend to create an Empire though sir? If the maps are indeed accurate, then there are several contending kingdoms which could try to stop us." Maxmillian, while supportive of ensuring his Creator's desires were met, couldn't help but question how Sygil intended to go about achieving his empire with no starting resources.

Sygil chuckled. "Of course they will. If we tried to create one conventionally. However, where there are people, there are several definitive absolutes you can always count on, as evidenced by Mr Augustus. Greed, which fuels crime and war. Something, which I intend to exploit."

Sygil leaned forward, elbow propped on the table and hand suspended under his chin.

"The Augustus family supplies the Re-Estize kingdom with nearly 30% of its annual food supply. They are in a position of considerable control and as such, they have accumulated much wealth. Food is needed to fuel armies, and armies are needed to fight wars and keep citizens in line."

Maxmillian seemed to take the hint. "If we were to take control, we would be in a position of power to mould our own Empire…"

Sygil smiled approvingly. "Exactly."

Maxmillian found himself frowning, though. "How exactly are we going to take control, then? If we kill Beovhan and Clair off, we lose potential influence in the kingdom."

"Not necessarily. As a businessman, one sanctioned by the Re-Estize kingdom to supply its food, he must be under contract. Beovhan will likely have a deed, or some other signatory stating him to be the legal owner of this property. All we need to do is persuade him to hand it over to us. Once we are made the new signatory owners, we will legally own the food supplies, including the labour required to manage and protect the farms."

"But couldn't the Re-Estize simply view the contract as void since we weren't signatories to supplying the kingdom, and hire someone else in?" Maxmillian felt somewhat sceptical.

"It wouldn't matter, since the kingdom wouldn't own the property, we would. Therefore they are dependent on whoever is willing to supply it to them. And since we control 30% of it, we have our foot in the door to influence and leverage certain decisions. They would have to negotiate with us. Especially if we decided to withhold, or better yet, supply to another kingdom or organisation without affiliation to the Re-Estize."

"Couldn't they view that as treason though, giving them the justification to take it by force from us?"

"They would have to have a legitimate reason, as that could scare their other suppliers."

"That could work both ways though, sir. They could scare the suppliers into rebellion, or into submission."

Sygil, however, brushed the concern away.

"Either way, regardless, it's not a risk the kingdom would want to take immediately. We would have enough time to exploit other loopholes and further embed ourselves into their bureaucracy, as well as expand our influence into other sectors and even kingdoms. In the real world, it's not what you know, it's who you know. And we will eventually need connections. The sooner we get more, the better."

"And what about the slaves?"

"That is where our mutual friend Trisha will come in. Trisha was once a proud warrior, and, according to our hosts for tonight, was one of the stronger ones. Now I may be wrong, but in warrior cultures, the strongest are always respected. Which means, our dear slave can help us n ot only gain more accurate information easily, but also likely help us secure, and establish, a new power structure." By now, Sygil was sporting a predatory smirk.

"If we can gain her loyalty, she would make a better candidate to help acquire the loyalty of the other slaves. Once we take control, we can make them indebted to us by granting them freedom. We'll use Trisha to ensure their loyalty towards us. Loyalty out of gratitude, instead of slavery. If they feel compelled to work for us out of sheer loyalty, we will have an established labour force that can keep the profits rolling in for us. Profits, which can be used to both expand our influence and capabilities, and to bring in the ingredients and supplies needed to create the remedies we need."

"And what if she refuses?"

Sygil smiled darkly. "Trust me. I have my ways…"

"And what about the townspeople and Clair?" Maxmillian was curious as to his Creator's plan.

"They'll be dealt with accordingly. For now, we'll need both Beovhan and Clair alive. At least, until we are in full control. As for the townspeople, that depends on whether they oppose us or not."

Maxmillian stared at Sygil, and even though he tried to maintain a neutral expression, it was difficult to express his awe at the genius of the One and Only Supreme Being, his Creator.

"At the dinner tonight, I want to finalise our information gathering from Beovhan. After that, we can organise an 'appointment' with our dear slave. From there, we can set things in motion."

"And the mercenaries? While I know we can deal with them, we don't know their numbers."

"They're only loyal to coin. Once we take control of the property and the associated wealth, they're loyalty will be bought. They will grant us the necessary army we need. All we need is one or two of the mercenaries to be witness to the transaction of the property as the deed is signed over. After that happens, we will be in direct control of the finances. Beovhan won't be able to stop us then."

"And Clair? What are your plans for her?"

"She helped emplace the seals on the slaves, so she can help release them."

Maxmillian nodded in affirmation of his Creator's plan. What his Creator desired, he got.

Sygil was here to take advantage of the new opportunities that the New World was so ready to provide, and he was going to exploit them to their fullest potential. And if anyone dared to step in his way, he would make certain it would be the last step they would ever take….

---

Author's note:

- Yes, I did use Boris Johnson's greatest insult of mankind ;)