Somewhere Far Beyond

by StarKnight2.0

Ainz wasn't the only one to have logged into Yggdrasil in its final moments. Two brothers from America decided to visit their favorite game one last time but end up in a new world. As the Overlord of Nazarick rises, the brothers try to find their place in this new world, make friends, fight new enemies and soon wonder: Are they truly alone in the New World?

11. Among the Living

LW: Do you guys love where this story is going, or is there room for improvement? Please leave comments, be it constructive criticism and/or praises! Comments give us fanfic writers power, especially during these hard times! ^^

(Starknight2.0- New chapter already, just in time for Halloween. I hope you enjoy it. Big thanks to Lucius Walker for his help and, as he said, leave a review.)

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Ch.11: Among the Living

Momon (aka Ainz Ooal Gown to those who knew his true identity) let out a sigh of nostalgia as he watched Nfirea and the members of the Swords of Darkness gather the herbs he needed from the Great Forest of Tob. Despite the fact that he could no longer feel emotions, Ainz still couldn't help but be reminded of his time back on Yggdrasil.

Well, that last part wasn't exactly true. Ever since being transported to this new world, he noticed that his nature as an undead actively worked to suppress his emotions, especially when they came out in sudden outbursts, such as surprisement, embarrassment, and lust.

While some part of him did miss the ability to feel those basic emotions, he did acknowledge how necessary it was for his current condition. As the leader of Nazarick, he couldn't afford to succumb to such things like anxiety or panic attacks, especially since most of his servants were nonhuman creatures that could and would scare the living daylights out of the average human being. Being unable to feel emotions (as well as being unable to express them normally, due to the lack of flesh on his face) also made sure that if his servants scanned for any weaknesses, they would not find it, which would hopefully ensure their everlasting loyalty.

Despite the fact that his humanity was fading away with each passing day, it did not mean that his memories went with them, particularly the memories of his friends and comrades during the golden days of Yggdrasil. Oh, how he had so much fun, despite the shitty reality that always awaited them after they logged out. Ever time he would return to the digital world, he would be greeted with people with common interests; people who he could share his happiness and sadness with, and people that understood his pain, due to the fact that they were all hardworking people when not grinding in dungeons or building their digital home.

Even with the context of their situation, it was still admittedly silly for them to put so much investment and love into a mere video game, albeit a highly advanced one. But it didn't stop them from pouring out their heart and soul into the game and their guild, with everything from the needless restrooms to the loyal NPCs being the result of their dedication to make this their second home.

And yet, one by one, the players of Nazarick began to fade away. Some simply quit, due to the lack of interest or whatever other reason they said or did not say. Some died, with some of them passing away from not taking care of themselves in real life. What remaining members they had quickly faded away, and the inevitable end of the game did not help matters at all.

Eventually, it was just Ainz left, or rather, Momonga, as he originally named himself. Sure, one of his friends did return one last time, but he chose to log back out just as quickly in order to prepare for the next day of work - to return back to the cold, unfeeling system run by those rich bastards that descended from those that ruined their beautiful planet with their greed.

Ainz, who couldn't bear to watch his world fade away without a proper goodbye, decided to stay until the bitter end - the silent, stubborn act of defiance against the developers that would never be seen. Taking his NPCs for a walk, he sat down on his digital throne, and, as his final command as king, ordered them to bow. And with that, he closed his eyes, waiting to be flung back into reality.

And yet, he never left. Or rather, perhaps he was sent into an alternate world, where the digital, fantasy world was the real one. Before he knew it, he became the undead persona that he created for himself, with his precious servants being real, feeling beings.

Oh, how he wished his companions could see this now. Oh, how he wished that at least Herohero could've stayed till the end, just so that at least Solution could've had the privilege of walking beside her creator. Holding onto that hope, he decided that he was going to create a name for himself and his guild - to see if perhaps his companions made it into this world as well. To see if at least there were other fellow players trapped with him in this strange, beautiful world. Whether they would turn out to be enemies, friends, or neutral potential partners, they would at least have the bond of a player that was suddenly ripped from their terrible, polluted world. Perhaps if he was lucky enough, he would make new friends with these potential players.

Sadly, it looks like so far, there was no such luck.

The clear, almost cheerful song of a nearby bird broke Ainz's train of thought. The necromancer in disguise looked about and snapped back to attention. The Overlord of Nazarick, along with Nfirea and the Swords of Darkness were currently in the depths of the Great Forest of Tob. Shafts of afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy of tree limbs above as the party slowly filled their baskets with the sought after herbs. Ainz scanned the silent and tranquil forest around him through the slit in his helmet's visor. So far, so good, Ainz thought to himself.

Nfirea, the young herbalist who hired him and the other adventurers, had cautioned them about the monsters that dwelt within the Great Forest. Ainz kept his guard up and had Narberal Gamma, his companion currently going by the name of Nabe, patrol the forest close by. As an extra security measure, the Overlord of Nazarick had Aura positioned elsewhere in the forest to keep an eye out for this "Wise King" or any other potential threat.

Though his emotions were greatly dampened, Ainz knew that it paid to be cautious, especially if he was trying to gain the trust of these adventurers. He couldn't afford to show his true form or strength to his companions. One could never know who may be truly a friend or foe.

Ainz folded his arms across his chest and continued to keep his non-existent eyes and ears peeled for anything out of the ordinary. Then again, everything about this world was out of the ordinary. Lush forests, clear blue skies, a bright and warm sun, these weren't exactly the type of things Ainz was used to. Such things were rare to see outside of old movies and specially preserved corners of the globe.

Before the necromancer's attention could wander off again, he caught the sound of what sounded like...crying.

"Hm?" Ainz said aloud, turning his head toward the sound.

"Huh?" Ninya, the party's young mage, asked.

"Do you hear that?" the necromancer said to his companion, softly.

The young, short haired mage frowned and listened for a few moments before asking "Hear what?"

"What's going on?" Dyne Woodwonder, the party's druid, asked, pausing from his task.

"Mr. Momon's heard something," Ninya informed her elder comrade.

"Heard what?" Lukrut, the party's ranger, asked.

"It sounded...it's nothing," Ainz said slowly. "It's rather foolish."

"No, no, what is it, what did you hear?" Peter, the leader of the Swords of Darkness, asked.

"It sounded like someone was...crying."

"Probably Lukrut," Ninya teased. "He probably couldn't handle another rejection from Ms. Nabe."

"That's not true!" Lukrut whined comically. "And besides, I will win Lady Nabe's heart, you'll see!"

Ainz said nothing. It sounded plausible. The blond ranger was obviously head over heels for Narberal, and flirted with her at nearly every chance he got, which was a very bad idea, considering how low of an opinion she had on humans and how irritated she got with each new attempt at flirting. However, the necromancer knew that this was impossible. Lukrut was closeby and he didn't seem to have been crying. Additionally, it sounded as if it were coming from a woman.

Nfirea paused. The young herbalist was bent over a patch of greenery and was in the middle of harvesting some herbs when he heard Ainz's words.

"Something wrong, Nfirea?" Ainz asked, noticing the color having vanished from the young man's face.

"What did you say?" Nfirea asked, rising to full height and looking at Ainz with a deathly pale complexion. "What did you hear, exactly?"

"I believed that I heard someone crying," Ainz told him slowly.

Recognition and fear flickered across the herbalist's expression. He looked around, searching the trees and bushes for something.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked, a frown forming on his face.

"N-nothing," Nfirea stammered, adopting a weak smile "It's nothing."

The herbalist turned to resume picking herbs but froze when suddenly the soft, distant sound of someone weeping wafted toward them, carried on by the wind.

"Well, what do you know," Lukrut murmured, his brows furrowed.

"Sounds like crying alright," Dyne observed "Perhaps we should go check it out."

"No!" Nfirea cried, whipping around and looking at the druid, his eyes wide with fear and hands clenched into tight fists, crushing the herbs in his hands.

"It's okay," the druid said assuringly. "I won't be long. I'll even take Lukrut with me."

"You can't go out there, it's dangerous!"

"If it is, then that person out there might be in danger," Peter reasoned.

Nfirea opened his mouth to argue further, but stopped himself when the wind picked up, causing the trees around them to sway and sigh. The temperature cooled significantly, sending a chill through the herbalist and the adventurers. Even Ainz, who had no skin, muscles or nerves, felt an unsettling chill sweep through his armor. The sound of weeping grew louder and more mournful.

"We need to go," Nfirea said in a soft, frightened voice. "We need to go, now. Carefully and quietly."

"What is it?" Ninya asked, growing scared.

"The Weeping Woman," the herbalist whispered with a mixture of reverence and horror.

Judging from the confused and blank looks the other adventurers had, Ainz surmised that they didn't know who this "Weeping Woman" was either. Which was a bad thing.

"Who is this Weeping Woman?" Ainz asked, his voice filled with curiosity.

"A ghost," Nfirea whispered, stepping closer to the other adventurers. "No one knows for sure who she truly was in life. All that is known is that it is the ghost of a woman who dwells in the Great Forest of Tob, weeping over her lost love, doomed to forever search for him in these woods. Every now and then, hunters and rangers who venture into the forest can hear her sobbing."

"What's so scary about some crying ghost?" Lukrut asked. A humorous smile formed on his lips "Sounds like she could use the comfort and charms of yours truly."

Nfirea gave the ranger a grim look. "Any man who looks into her eyes falls under her spell. She takes her victims deep into the forest, and they're never seen again."

The smile immediately vanished from Lukrut's face. "Oh."

Ainz's interest was piqued. The necromancer wasn't a big believer in the supernatural, but seeing how he's in a new world where magic is real, Ainz has decided to keep an open mind about such things. He's never seen a real ghost before. What were its abilities? Was it something unique only to this world or was it something from Yggdrasil?

The Overlord of Nazarick vaguely recalled some old classes and races from the early days of Yggdrasil, some of which had abilities that were quite troublesome. Troublesome enough for the developers to remove them in a later game wide update.

Regardless of where it originated or what it truly was, Ainz had to see this for himself.

"Alright, let's pack up then," Peter said, his expression turned serious. "Nfirea, you keep behind us. We'll slowly make our way back to the village, putting ourselves between you and the ghost."

"And I'll cover your retreat," Ainz stated, drawing his twin greatswords from their sheaths on his back.

"No!" Nfirea croaked. "You can't! She's dangerous! I heard that she took the life of an Orichalcum adventurer!"

"Seriously?" Ninya whispered, the mage's eyes widening.

Nfirea nodded.

Although the herbalist was trying to warn Ainz away from the ghost, the necromancer was instead only more intrigued. Orichalcum adventurers were fairly high up there in the ranks of the Adventurers guild, just beneath Adamantite. If this ghost killed an adventurer of such power and renown, it must be truly powerful.

"Be that as it may," Ainz said, forcing himself to sound brave and confident, "your safety comes first. If I do encounter this Weeping Woman, I will slow her down and retreat."

Nfirea wanted to plead with Momon and beg him to reconsider, but his words died in his throat when the sounds of a woman sobbing echoed through the woods.

The herbalist and the Swords of Darkness all froze. The mournful crying filled the air around them, sending chills through the humans. Even Ainz, with his suppressed emotions, felt an ominous sensation briefly wash over him.

Ainz turned his head toward the sound and felt something odd emanating from deeper within the woods. The necromancer's grip on his swords tightened.

"Go," the disguised necromancer ordered his companions. "Now!"

"Right," Peter said with a nod.

The Swords of Darkness formed a protective circle around Nfirea and slowly made their way back towards the village. Before vanishing from sight, Nfirea hissed a warning to Ainz.

"Don't look into her eyes! That's how she gets you! It's how she marks her victims."

Ainz nodded and watched as the herbalist and the adventurers retreated from view.

Once they were gone, Ainz lifted his gauntleted hand to helmet, right where his ear would be, and tried to use [Message]. He had to inform Narberal of this new development, and to coordinate with her. Maybe they can capture this ghost for testing.

Surprisingly, however, the spell didn't work.

Ainz tried once more and got nothing. He tried Aura and still got nothing.

This isn't good, the Overlord of Nazarick thought grimly.

Why wasn't the spell working? Was it a malfunction or something?

An awful thought came to mind.

Was someone purposefully jamming him? Was it the ghost?

If it was the ghost, then this was proving to be an ever more precarious situation. There were ways of jamming communication on Yggdrasil, through a select few items and at least two or three high level spells. If the ghost was behind this disruption, then she must be pretty high leveled. Which means Ainz will have to tread even more carefully.

The sounds of weeping grew louder, but didn't seem to be getting any closer. Strange. Ainz held his ground for a few long moments, listening to the heartbroken sobs of this phantom woman. His instincts urged him to retreat and meet up with Nfirea and the Swords of Darkness but two things told him to do the opposite.

The first was the knowledge that Aura and Naberal were still out there in the woods. Although they were powerful and willing to lay down their lives for him, Ainz couldn't bear the thought of losing them. The second was the ghost. The necromancer was intrigued by this mysterious apparition. It allegedly was powerful enough to subdue and slay an Orichalcum ranked adventurer and may be the one who was blocking his [Message] spell. Logic told him that it'd be more prudent to retreat and return later, more fully prepared. Yet Ainz found reasons to stay and to confront this ghost. The ghost could disappear for an unknown period of time, thus any chance to learn of her abilities gone. He may encounter a similar foe in the future and this experience may prove to be an invaluable learning experience. The more Ainz argued with himself, the more conflicted he became, until a horrible, but possible scenario popped into his head.

What if the ghost has already captured Narberal and Aura?

Eventually, Ainz decided that he should confront the ghost. Perhaps he could observe it from afar, gauge her weakness, and maybe even get the drop on it. The armored giant stomped off into the woods, following the echoing cries of the ghostly woman, cursing himself for doing this, but hoping that his subordinates were safe.

…

Ainz raced deeper into the woods, his armored footfalls muffled by the [Silence] spell. The further in he went, the more Ainz could sense that something was off.

The air seemed to grow cooler and the ambient sounds of the forest seemed to have faded completely, as if the birds and other forest dwelling creatures held their breath, hoping that the ghost would pass them by.

The weeping sounded close now, drifting forth from behind a wall of bushes. Ainz paused and cast a few spells to see what potentially lay ahead. All that his magic picked up on was that there was someone on the other side of these bushes.

Ainz quickly formulated a battleplan. He would buff his defenses, and then emerge from hiding. Since his opponent may be a ghost, spells might be a more effective weapon than swords. Ainz could open up with a fireball or something with a little more of a punch, but he'll have to keep it at a manageable level. He didn't want to accidentally start a forest fire. If he had a cleric or something that utilized Holy Magic, then he'd be able to deal with this opponent without damaging the forest.

The sound of a twig snapping closeby brought Ainz out of his thoughts. The necromancer could hear someone coming his way. With no time, Ainz decided to strike first. He boosted his defense with a series of spells he wordlessly invoked and, like a coiled viper, he struck.

Ainz leapt over the bushes, letting out a fierce warcry and brought his swords up. He brought them down in a blur of speed and with force, but quickly canceled his attack when he saw his target.

The twin greatswords stopped inches from the throat of a frightened blond human man, just inches from beheading him.

The Overlord of Nazarick stared at the human with confusion.

"Who are you?" Ainz growled.

"G-Gareth S-Silvertongue sir!" the man squeaked with fright, his eyes began to water. "A-and you?"

"I am A-uh-Momon!" Ainz said, narrowly avoiding using his real name. "I am Momon, the Adventurer!"

"Y-you certainly look the part," the man named Gareth stammered, looking him up and down. "If-if it's not too much trouble, could you tell me where I am?"

Ainz gave him a funny look, at least he would if he had any flesh and wasn't wearing a visor. The blond man didn't know where he was? Seriously? He was fairly deep into the Great Forest of Tob, so it wasn't very likely he would just wander into the woods. Not unless he was lost.

Was this some sort of trap? No, that didn't seem likely. Ainz wordlessly invoked a spell to scan the blond man for any significant powers and found him to be slightly more powerful than the members of Swords of Darkness. There didn't seem to be anything else about this Gareth Silvertongue that raised any red flags, other than his presence. What was he doing here?

After a few moments, Ainz answered Gareth's inquiry. "You are currently in the Great Forest of Tob."

"Great Forest of Tob," Gareth echoed. A ponderous look crossed his handsome face as he wiped away the tears in his eyes. "That's a little off the beaten path. Do you know how far it is to the Azerlisia Mountains or perhaps the Baharuth Empire?"

"Why do you wish to know that?"

Gareth grinned sheepishly. "I'm sort of...lost."

Ainz tilted his head. "Lost?"

"Yes, you see I'm-I'm an Adventurer as well. My party and I were traveling through the Azerlisia Mountains on a job, and we were attacked by Frost Dragons and we got seperated. I tried finding my way back to the trail but got turned around and ended up in a cave, which turned out to be a tunnel and well I somehow ended up in this forest."

The disguised necromancer listened and silently absorbed the blond man's story. He wasn't entirely sure how much he believed, but it seemed like a plausible explanation.

"You're an adventurer?" Ainz tilted his head. "Care to prove it?"

"Prove it?" Gareth echoed with a frown.

"There are all manner of monsters in these woods, some that may not be what they appear to be. There is even one of which is said to be a very powerful phantom who has slaughtered Adventurers in the past. Prove to me that you are who you say you are."

Gareth hesitated. He tapped his chin thoughtfully for a few moments and he reached up and pulled out a cord with a silvery Adventurer plate attached to it.

Ainz studied it carefully, and figured that it was the real deal.

A Platinum Adventurer? the necromancer mused. Rank wise, Gareth would be his senior. While not as impressive sounding as Orichalcum or Adamantite, it was still an impressive rank. However, the way he was blubbering and sniffling, this supposedly higher ranked adventurer looked rather pitiful.

"It's not much by way of proof," the blond man admitted, "but this is all I got. I'm part of the Good Companions. Perhaps you've heard of us?"

"I have not," Ainz told him.

The blond man winced. "Thought so. We're pretty well known in Arven, a city in Baharuth. I'm a bard by trade, and my party consists of myself, my brother, and our two companions."

As Gareth continued to sputter and babble, Ainz studied him closely and carefully.

The man was handsome, with white blond hair and sky-blue eyes. The man wore an orange doublet, brown trousers and scuffed brown leather boots. At his side was a longsword, which looked somewhat new and rather underused. Ainz spotted the head of a stringed instrument poking out from underneath Gareth's emerald cloak. The bard was lean and looked as though he had a noble bearing, though Ainz doubted that he was of such stock.

The necromancer subtly and wordlessly used every means of scanning and detecting whether this wayward bard was who he said he was. As the seconds passed, Ainz's spells gradually all said the same thing: the bard was just a bard.

Ainz began to ponder this moment carefully. If Gareth was who he said he was, a platinum adventurer and a bard, then it'd be advantageous to befriend him and learn from him. He said that he was from and well known in Baharuth. The Empire was the primary rival of the Re-Estize Kingdom, and were very nearly framed by the Slane Theocracy not too long ago when the Sunlight Scripture attacked Carne Village. There's so much that the necromancer could learn from this man, especially in regards to how bards may differ here than they did in Yggdrasil.

After a long silence passed between them, Gareth spoke up.

"C-could you possibly lower your weapons?"

"Huh? Oh, right." The necromancer snapped out of his thoughts and removed his swords from the bard's neck. Instantly, Gareth's posture relaxed. The bard's shoulders slumped and he let out a sigh of relief.

"Sorry about that," Ainz apologized, lowering his weapons but still keeping them in hand. "One can't be too careful, especially with creatures like the Wise King of the Forest or the Weeping Woman lurking in these woods."

"The what and the who?" Gareth asked, frowning in confusion.

"The Wise King of the Forest and the Weeping Woman. One is said to be a legendary creature that has dwelt these woods for centuries and is capable of magic. The other is a dangerous phantom of a weeping woman who is searching these woods for her lost love. Apparently she's capable of ensnaring her victims with her eyes and was able to overpower an Orichalcum ranked Adventurer in the past. Or so they say."

"Ah," the bard said, raising an eyebrow. "I did not know that."

"Aren't bards supposed to be knowledgeable of these sorts of things?"

"They are, but I'm not from this region, so everything here is new to me."

"I see."

Ainz accepted Gareth's words, but the Overlord of Nazarick couldn't help but feel that the bard wasn't being upfront with him. As Ainz described the Weeping Woman, Gareth swallowed hard and his expression grew pale. Although he didn't want to press the issue, Ainz couldn't help but feel that there was something more to this strange bard.

Before the disguised necromancer could ponder this further, Ainz heard some rustling in the trees. His grip tightened on his swords, readying himself for battle. Fortunately, the armor clad overlord had nothing to worry about, since a familiar face emerged from the bushes.

"Ah, there you are Nabe," Ainz greeted his subordinate with a nod. "Anything to report?"

The beautiful raven haired battle maid dipped her head. "Nothing of significance Lor...Momon, sir."

The necromancer grimaced internally. Narberal Gamma, much like the rest of her sisters, had a strong habit of addressing Ainz as 'Lord" and other lofty honorifics that, if not careful, could be dangerous in the wrong company. Narberal, though known as Nabe to all outside of Nazarick, was doing better in addressing him while they were out in the world but there was plenty of room for improvement.

Noticing the battle maid scrutinizing Gareth with the same hostility reserved only for an enemy of Nazarick, Ainz quickly introduced the bard in order to prevent Narberal from saying or doing something that might harm their potential new ally and out their true identities.

"Nabe, this is Gareth Silvertongue," Ainz told the battle maid "He is a bard and an Adventurer from Baharuth."

"How do you do?" the bard greeted with a smile. He removed his feathered cap and made a theatrical bow.

Disgust and annoyance flickered across Nabe's pale features, before quickly fading away. Fortunately, the bard didn't seem to notice.

"What's he doing here?" Nabe asked, with a slight frown. "Baharuth is a fair distance away from here and the main roads."

"I'm lost," Gareth chuckled nervously, rising from his bow. "I know, lame excuse, but it's the truth. I got separated from my party and somehow ended up in these woods."

"I see," Nabe said, sounding unconvinced. Her dark eyes narrowed, and Ainz could feel the disgust and scorn radiating from her.

Ainz seriously needed to find a way to help Narberal overcome her extreme hatred of humans, or at least hide it better.

"Nabe, have you found anything else on your patrol? Anything unusual?"

"Unusual?"

"According to Nfirea, the Wise King of the Forest is not our only concern. Apparently there is a dangerous ghostly woman in these woods."

Nabe frowned and considered her master's words carefully. Eventually she shook her head.

"I'm sorry but I found nothing unusual or out of the ordinary, sir."

"Thought not," Gareth murmured.

Nabe shot a withering glare at the bard. "What?"

The bard jumped. "Sorry, it-it's just very doubtful that a ghost would leave a physical trace. T-they don't have a physical form, after all."

The raven-haired battle maid continued to glare at the bard. She looked ready to draw her sword and cut his head off. However, Nabe just exhaled, and nodded.

"True, but I have tried detection magic and found nothing."

That troubled Ainz. If neither he or Narberal were able to detect this ghost with magic, it'd be highly doubtful if Aura or any of the others from Nazarick could detect this foe.

How could they possibly deal with this ghost? An undetectable enemy is one of the most dangerous things that Nazarick could ever face. It just didn't seem possible for such a thing to exist. Maybe this Weeping Woman was just a story. But what about the weeping he heard? Part of him blamed Gareth. The bard was a trembling ball of nerves on the verge of tears when he found him. Then again, Ainz attacked him and nearly took his head off, and the sounds he heard sounded distinctly female.

More and more questions were popping up, and Ainz really hated not having answers. He would have to deal with this later. For now, he had other things to worry about. Like the Wise King of the Forest for starters, and Nfirea, not to mention Gareth.

"Well then," Ainz said, turning toward the direction of Carne Village, "since there appears to be no ghost, we should probably rejoin with the rest of our party, and inform them that these woods are safe."

Narberal and Gareth nodded.

The three adventures left the clearing and began making their way toward Carne Village and the others. Ainz led the way, his swords still in hand Narberal and Gareth trailing closely behind. As they worked their way out of the forest, the Overlord of Nazarick kept a wary eye out for any surprise appearances by this mysterious ghost or the Wise King of the Forest. Although all was calm and quiet, Ainz couldn't help but feel that there was something out there, watching them.

Behind him, the disguised necromancer could hear Gareth trying to make small talk with Narberal, but was having little success. The raven-haired battle maid gave terse answers and practically radiated a vibe that said "leave me alone." Regardless, Ainz was rather interested to hear what the bard had to say.

"...is the Guild different in Re-Estize?" Gareth asked. "I've always heard that it was quite different in comparison to the guild in Baharuth."

"What is the Guild like in Baharuth?" Ainz asked, turning his head a little.

The bard considered his words carefully for a moment. "...Quiet," he said at last. "Close knit. I mean...I don't know what it was like before I joined, but from what I can gather, it's quite obvious that the Guild has seen better days. Most either up and left for Re-Estize, or gave up on adventuring entirely. They're doing their best to keep things going, but with the Emperor's recent policies, the Guild's time in Baharuth may be numbered."

"That's unfortunate," Ainz said, intrigued by this tidbit. The necromancer was still getting his bearings in the Guild and was eager to learn more. He made a mental note to investigate more about the Guild and Baharuth later. For now, he was content with listening to Gareth.

Before Gareth could continue talking, Ainz heard a sound. The armored necromancer stopped and raised a gauntleted fist. Gareth and Narberal stopped.

In the tranquil silence, Ainz could hear a deep rumbling that grew louder and closer.

"Momon, sir," Narberal hissed.

"I see it," Ainz growled.

To their right, through the trees and dense undergrowth, the three Adventurers saw a large, dark shape charging toward them, kicking up dust and dirt in its wake. The shape barreled through old, felled logs, smashing them into splinters.

"What the…?" Gareth breathed. He drew his blade and assumed a stance.

Ainz readied himself, raising his swords and assumed a fighting stance. The shape in the dust cloud grew closer and closer until it came to a grinding halt. Suddenly, a large, serpentine shape burst forth, racing toward Ainz. The armored necromancer crossed his blades, forming an 'X', just in time as a solid, green shape crashed against his blades. The shape pushed against Ainz's swords with such strength and force, sparks flew in between. Ainz felt his feet slide a few inches. With some effort, the necromancer forced the shape back. The serpentine shape swiftly retreated back into the shadows.

"Few can survive my first attack," a warped voice observed, echoing through the woods. "Admirable, it is."

"The hell?" Ainz murmured.

Ainz lowered his swords and stared into the forest where the strange shape had attacked from and retreated to. Through the dissipating dust cloud and shadow of the trees, the necromancer saw a large, round silhouette with a pair of shining eyes gazing at him intently.

"Abide in interlopers, I do not," the voice sneered. "Many are the foolish who have perished by my claws! If you wish not to join them, leave this place and respectfully withdraw I shall. What say, you?"

"Will do!" Gareth declared cheerfully, sheathing his blade. "Come along now, Momon, Nabe. Let us leave and never bother this fine...whatever it is again. We're terribly sorry for-"

"Forget it!" Ainz replied to the disembodied voice. "Adventurers like us don't scare easily."

The armored necromancer noticed Narberal smiling as the bard deflated a little and let out a small whine.

"How about you come out and face us?" Ainz taunted. "Are you shy or are you afraid that you won't survive?"

"Momon," the bard whispered. "Please don't antagonize it."

"Be silent, fool!" Narberal snapped at the bard. "Mr. Momon has things well in hand. Watch and learn why he is worth more than a copper rank."

Ainz cringed a little. There was that fanaticism that he had hoped Narberal could keep under wraps, but it seems that it's on his to-do list to take care of later.

"Insolent whelp!" the voice snarled. "Very well, gaze upon my form and tremble with awe!"

Ainz, Narberal and Gareth readied themselves as the large shape stomped towards them, crushing undergrowth under foot and pushing aside trees and branches as it emerged from the shadows.

Gareth's eyebrows shot up as he and Ainz gazed up at the owner of the voice.

"I don't believe it," Ainz murmured, surprised and rather disappointed by what he saw.

"Your fear and despair is palpable, knave!" the creature chuckled smugly. "Have any last words do you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." Gareth said, suddenly sounding rather calm. "Well, I have questions really. May I ask you a question before you cuddle-er-kill us?"

"You may," the creature said.

Ainz glanced at Gareth and saw the bard standing there, arms folded across his chest.

"What manner of creature are you?" the bard asked, tilting his head.

Ainz looked at the creature, who turned out to be a big, fluffy hamster with a long, snake-like green tail. On the hamster's fur were six sigils that gleamed faintly in the sunlight.

The hamster's whiskers twitched and lifted its head in pride. "My kind, I do not know. However, the Wise King of the Forest, I am known to the humans and my enemies. Rule and guard these woods for generations, I have. Any interloper who foolishly dares to hunt me, I slay."

A hamster, Ainz grumbled in his mind. The Wise King of the Forest is a giant Djungarian hamster. Wise King my boney ass!

"I see," Gareth said, slowly. "Well, good day to you, oh wise king." He removed his cap and bowed.

Ainz rolled his eyes.

"Now then," Gareth placed his cap back on his head. "How about you let us go and we can forget all about this?"

"Too late, it is," the Wise King said. "Your companion issued a challenge and answer it I must. You will not escape alive!" A scowl formed on the hamster's face. Ainz knew that it was meant to look intimidating, but it looked more adorable than anything.

"Well that's a shame," the bard said, sounding slightly disappointed "but before you needlessly slaughter my friend in combat-"

Narberal scowled at Gareth.

"-would you allow me to play a simple tune commemorating this event and lamenting our tragic fate?"

Ainz glanced at the bard. He could feel magic emanating from the blond man. It was faint, but the necromancer recognized it immediately, and he suddenly realized what he was doing. Gareth was using his [Bardic Voice], or at least some variant of it. In Yggdrasil, bards used their voices to control NPC enemies and lower the stats of other players. It would seem Gareth was trying to lull the hamster into a false sense of security so that he may use his more potent weapon, his music.

The effectiveness of these abilities varied. It depended on the level of the bard and that of his enemy. Fortunately, it appeared to be working.

The Wise King of the Forest smiled. "Play your music, you shall. A fitting funeral song for an arrogant interloper, it shall be."

"Right," Gareth grinned and swept aside his emerald cloak. He unslung his instrument, which Ainz realized was a lute. Judging it's appearance, Ainz surmised that this instrument was probably Gareth's most utilized weapon.

The bard tapped a soft rhythm on his instrument, drawing a percussive beat before he began to strum a soft and relaxing song.

Ainz immediately felt the difference occurring around them. The tranquil forest air grew cooler and more soothing. The sunlight grew warmer and softer. The overall atmosphere of the forest around them became more subdued, as if the world was going to sleep, and was inviting them to join them.

Ainz worried that both he and Narberal were in danger of being affected, but he sensed that the magic, though affecting the world around them, was focused more on the Wise King of the Forest.

"Goodnight, to every little hour that you, sleep tight," Gareth sang, his voice soft and soothing like a lullabye. "May it hold you through the winter of a long night…"

Ainz watched with interest as the enormous hamster began to nod off. Her big, shiny eyes began to blink and slowly close. The song progressed further and Ainz could hear additional voices emanating from Gareth, harmonizing and adding strength to the bard's song.

The Wise King's tail, which was swishing slowly to the beat, gradually stopped. The giant hamster's eyes closed for the last time. She began to sway, before falling backwards and landing with a loud thud.

Noticing that his target was now asleep, Gareth slowly ended his song. Once the song was over, the magic faded from the air and the dreamlike quality the forest had adopted vanished, returning to a silent, ordinary forest.

The bard exhaled loudly and slung his instrument to his back.

"That should do it," Gareth breathed, smiling at Ainz and Narberal.

So that's what a real bard's power looks like, Ainz thought to himself.

Bards were an interesting class in Yggdrasil. While they can be potent on their own, they were most effective in a party. While not nearly as impressive as he thought, Ainz could see why Gareth was a platinum rank Adventurer. If he was able to subdue the supposedly legendary Wise King of the Forest, the blond bard may prove to be a formidable ally.

"Excellent work," Ainz said, approaching the slumbering giant hamster.

"You're not going to kill her, are you?" Gareth asked, nodding at the necromancer's swords.

"Hmm? Oh, no I won't," Ainz chuckled, sheathing his greatswords. "I don't need to. It'd be dishonorable and unnecessary, now that the 'Wise King of the Forest' is subdued."

"Right."

The three adventurers gathered around the slumbering hamster. They each stared at the beast with a mixture of curiosity and hesitation.

Ainz was racking his brain for ideas about what he should do about this so-called "Wise King." He had hoped for something a little more...fearsome, like a fierce chimera that he could best in combat and earn a serious reputation for the name of Momon. Killing a giant, fluffy hamster wasn't going to impress anyone. If anything, it might anger them. While he didn't get the battle he wanted, Ainz still wanted to learn more about this creature. He promised Nfirea to spare the Wise King, since she was Carne Village's defense against the monsters that dwelled in the Great Forest of Tob. Killing was out of the question, that much was certain.

What was Ainz going to do?

"Mr. Momon!" a familiar voice called out.

Shit, Ainz cursed in his mind. He was out of time to think.

Turning around, he saw Nfirea and the Swords of Darkness racing toward them.

The young herbalist and the Adventurers skidded to a halt when they saw the slumbering giant.

"Whoa, what is that?" Ninya gasped.

"And who are you?" Lukrut asked, eyeing Gareth suspiciously.

"That," Gareth said, gesturing to the snoring hamster "is the Wise King of the Forest, and I am Gareth Silvertongue, a bard and Adventurer of some renown!"

"I've never heard of you," Peter said bluntly.

"Me neither," Ninya chimed.

Gareth sighed, his shoulders slumped. "Figures."

"This is the Wise King of the Forest?" Nfirea breathed in awe, looking up at the large hamster. The overgrown creature snored loudly, whiskers twitching slightly.

"Indeed it is," Ainz said, folding his arms. "Be at ease, it is in a deep sleep." The armored necromancer expected Nfirea and the others to express disappointment, or question the veracity of this fact. However, Ainz was surprised by their reaction.

"What an awe inspiring creature!" Ninya exclaimed.

"I can feel great power radiating from him!" Dyne said with awe.

Seriously? Ainz almost exclaimed aloud. Great power? Awe inspiring?

"I guess your amazing feats know no bounds," Lukrut complimented Ainz. "It's no wonder why Lady Nabe stays by your side."

"Oh no," Ainz began. "It was no-"

"It was no problem for the great Momon!" Gareth chimed in loudly and dramatically. "He bested the creature and saved my life!"

All eyes turned to the bard. The blond man grinned and gestured to the large armored Adventurer.

"I was lost and nearly met my end, had it not been for Momon."

Ainz looked at Gareth in bewilderment. Why was the bard giving him the credit? What was his angle? Before the necromancer could ponder this further, the Swords of Darkness and Nifrea began showering him with compliments.

"How heroic!" Peter said.

"Indeed!" Ninya agreed.

"You're full of surprises Mr. Momon" Dyne said.

"It's...It's no problem," Ainz said, reluctantly accepting their praise. "All in a day's work for an Adventurer."

In the corner of his vision, the necromancer noticed Gareth standing there, a good humored smile on his lips.

The chatter quickly died down when the giant hamster stirred. Ainz drew one of his swords. The Swords of Darkness drew their weapons and Nfirea quickly stepped behind the Adventurers.

The Wise King of the Forest stirred some more, moaning groggily and slowly blinking away sleep. The hamster's large eyes blinked in confusion as she sat up. Looking about, the Wise King seemed drowsy and uncertain.

"W-where am I?" the hamster yawned.

"H-he talks!?" Nfirea squeaked.

"She" Gareth corrected.

"W-who are you?" the hamster asked, scowling at the assembled and armed group.

"W-we're just some humble adventurers," the bard said gently. "We're here to pick some herbs. We mean you no harm."

"What happened?" the Wise King asked, rubbing his head with one paw. "Chasing some foes, I remember. A duel was going to happen, and…"

She doesn't remember? Ainz exclaimed in his head. It seems like whatever Gareth did to the Wise King worked a little too well.

"Yes...yes a duel did happen" Gareth explained slowly. Gears seemed to be turning in the blond man's head. "You and our armored friend here-" he pointed to Ainz, "battled, and you seemed to have taken a serious blow to the head."

"I did?" The hamster frowned.

"Y-yes."

The hamster nodded slowly. "Did I win?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Oh."

The hamster sat there on its rear, a contemplative look flickered across her furry face. After a length of silence, the hamster got up. The Adventurers backed away, ready to defend themselves if need be. Surprisingly, however, the hamster got down on all fours and bowed to Ainz.

"O honorable warrior," the hamster began. "For sparing my life, serve you I shall."

"What?" Gareth and Ainz said in unison.

"Indebted to you, I am," the Wise King explained. "In a duel to the death, showed mercy and spared my life, you did. A rare deed, it is. Proven yourself stronger, more honorable and worthy of serving, you have."

Ainz stared at the hamster in disbelief, as did the other Adventurers. Feeling as though he had no other choice and a rare opportunity presenting itself, Ainz raised a hand.

"I...I accept your offer," the necromancer said awkwardly. "Swear that you will be loyal to me and will serve me with all your might."

"I shall, I shall," the Wise King chirped.

"Then rise…" Ainz began, but paused. "Uh...do you have a name?"

The Wise King shook her head.

"You'll need a name, if you're going to serve and accompany us."

Eventually, after some consideration and after some poor suggestions from the Adventurers in attendance, Ainz suggested a name that the Wise King liked and accepted: Hamsuke.

---

Ainz, Narberal, and Hamsuke stood at the edge of the crowd and watched as Gareth entertained the villagers of Carne with a rather exaggerated retelling of their encounter with the Wise King of the Forest. Narberal looked ticked off that the bard had the audacity to try to hog all of the attention to himself, but Ainz was honestly grateful for the bard stepping in, since he was still unsure how he was going to sell the story of his "heroic deed" when he never even did it in the first place. Fortunately, this bard was quite experienced, and the people ate it up.

After giving Hamsuke her new name and collecting some more herbs in peace, Ainz and the others returned to Carne Village. The villagers welcomed them, and were astonished by the appearance of the one that protected their village for the last few centuries. Gareth was astonished by the presence of goblins in the village, but quickly grew to accept it when he realized how civil they were.

The villagers were welcoming and accommodating toward the bard, especially Enri's sister, Nemu. The young girl begged the blond bard to tell her a story, maybe play some music or do some tricks. Although Enri tried to reign in her overly excited sister and apologize to Gareth, the bard gladly accepted her requests.

The other villagers gathered around to listen to Gareth's tale, taking a break from their drills with the goblins and from their chores. Once a sizable crowd had gathered, the bard began his story.

After spending a few minutes listening to Gareth's recounting, if Ainz had to rate the blond adventurer, he would give him an 'A' for effort, but not much else.

"...I was wandering through the Great Forest, lost, alone. Until I was set upon by this beast! She swore to kill me for trespassing in his forest. I pleaded for my life, but the Wise King of the Forest refused to listen."

Ainz and Narberal watched with disbelief as the bard dropped to his knees, pretending to be cowering in fear. His hands were clasped together, as if he were pleading for his life. Gareth suddenly jumped up and pretended to run.

"She chased me through the woods, hoping to rip me to pieces with her terrible claws! But then, when the Wise King had me cornered, Sir Momon and Lady Nabe came to my rescue!"

Gareth suddenly drew his sword and swung it around in wide arcs, causing the audience to jump back a little.

"The battle was fierce! Momon fought valiantly, but the Wise King was quicker. The fierce beast knocked Momon's swords from his grip."

Gareth stumbled backward and fell to the ground. He threw his sword aside, allowing it to clatter and slide across the grassy ground. Ainz rolled his eyes while Narberal gritted her teeth. The bard propped himself up on one elbow and continued his story.

"It was then that the Wise King of the Forest lunged to end her foe! But fear not! Lady Nabe tossed Momon one of his swords, and with a single strike, knocked the creature out cold with his mighty blade!"

Some gasps were heard along with some murmurs.

"With the creature knocked out, Momon rose to his feet. He took his blade and was poised to slay the Wise King. But he couldn't…" Gareth paused dramatically. "...How could he kill such a powerful, majestic, intelligent creature…"

Hamsuke smiled and lifted her head a little higher.

"Could he deprive the world such a soul? Could he slay a defenseless creature? No, he couldn't. Instead, he spared the Wise King and Lady Nabe healed her. Grateful for sparing her life, the Wise King of the Forest pledged herself to serve Momon for as long as he lived!"

Gareth jumped to his feet and threw up his hands in a dramatic flourish. "The end!"

The audience erupted into applause and cheers.

The bard gave a bow and thanked his audience. Once they were finished, the crowd dispersed as the villagers returned to their training with the goblins or to their daily chores, leaving Ainz, Nabe, the other Adventurers, Nfiera, Enri, and Nemu behind with Gareth.

Nemu clapped and cheered as Gareth scooped up his discarded cap and sword.

"Another story! Another story!" the young girl begged.

"No, Nemu," Enri said sternly. "You still have chores to do."

"But Enri," the younger Emmott sister whined.

"No buts."

The young girl pouted, but obeyed her elder sibling.

As the little girl went to do her chores, Enri turned to Gareth and thanked him.

"Thank you again Mr. Gareth," she said with a thankful smile. "I know Nemu can be a handful, but our village doesn't get too many visitors, let alone a bard. The last bard who came to our village was a few years ago at the Harvest festival."

"Not a problem, Miss Emmott," Gareth said with a tip of his cap. "It is the job of a bard, after all, to tell the tales of heroes and bring joy to those around them."

Narberal snorted, though Ainz seemed to be the only one who noticed.

"Please call me Enri," Enri chuckled. "'Miss Emmott' makes me sound old."

The bard smiled and dipped his head. "Very well, Enri, I'm honored to be welcomed in your village. It's beautiful and very peaceful."

The blond girl's smile faltered "It is, though we've recently had some trouble with some knights from the Slane Theocracy. They were disguised as soldiers from Baharuth. We...we lost…"

Gareth frowned, his playful expression now somber. "Oh...I'm sorry. I didn't know…"

"It's okay. We're doing better now, thanks to the goblins."

"I can see that," the bard nodded to the recently erected fortifications and the troop of villagers and goblins training with makeshift weapons. "Why did they attack your village?"

"I believe that they were trying to kill the Chief Warrior, Gazef Stronoff."

"Why would they do that?"

"With the Theocracy? Who knows?" Lukrut said grimly "Those guys aren't very friendly with other countries, even though they like to proclaim themselves as 'humanity's defenders.'"

"They're nothing more than a band of fanatics and opportunists, believing themselves superior to everyone else, especially to non-humans," Ainz added darkly.

"You've met them?" Gareth asked, an eyebrow raised.

The armored necromancer nodded. "Once. It was a rather...unpleasant encounter."

It wasn't technically a lie. Ainz did encounter the warriors and clerics of the Slane Theocracy as they attempted to massacre Carne Village. If the rest of the Theocracy were exactly the same as those men, then Ainz could easily say that they were amongst the most arrogant and pigheaded people he's ever met.

"I'd stay away from them if I were you," Ainz warned Gareth, who nodded slowly.

"I had heard that they were bad news, but this is just...something else." the bard said in disbelief. He shook his head. "Utterly dreadful, but it's quite fortunate that the village survived."

Enri nodded, a wistful smile formed on her face "It is. We owe our survival to him."

"Who?" Gareth asked.

Before Enri could answer, Hamsuke lifted her head and looked toward the Great Forest. Her eyes narrowed.

"What is it?" Ainz asked.

"Something in the forest, there is" Hamsuke answered, her voice low and her whiskers twitching. "Watching us."

An eerie silence fell on the group.

"What is? What's watching us?" Peter asked.

Hamsuke shivered. "Something...dark."

Narberal's eyes narrowed. Ainz nodded to her, silently indicating her to use detection magic. It might be the ghost, but Ainz figured that the likely answer was Aura or one of her pets.

"The Weeping Woman?" Ninya whispered fearfully.

"The Weeping Woman?" Enri repeated, incredulously. "Don't tell me you believe that old story."

"B-but it's true!" Nfirea protested. "Remember the Orichalcum Adventurer she killed? Valen Highblood?"

"He was killed by a War Troll, remember?" Enri informed the young herbalist and the gathered adventurers. "He was hired to deal with the Goblin-Troll Alliance. He dueled the leader of the alliance, a massive War Troll named Bor. He lost because he was ill-prepared and arrogantly believed that no one could best him, especially not a troll."

"The troll showed him, didn't he?" Gareth said.

Enri nodded. "When he didn't return, Valen's comrades came looking for him and found his body deep in the heart of the Great Forest."

"Y-yes, but the way he died…" Nfirea stammered, "they-they said it was unnatural."

"Unnatural?" Ainz asked.

"He was cold and clammy, his eyes were wide open, and there was a look of terror on his face. Yes, h-he sustained injuries from his fight, but most of them were already healed by potions. In the end, the healers concluded that he died from fright."

An odd silence fell on the group as all eyes turned toward the forest. The trees loomed over the recently erected wall ominously. Ainz glanced at Narberal. She shook her head and he looked back toward the forest. Among the shaded upper branches of the trees, the necromancer spied a humanoid shape.

The figure was sitting on the branch with one arm on the trunk of the tree for support. Although he couldn't make out any distinct features, Ainz could see long, dark hair flowing in the breeze. He gazed at the figure for a long moment and tried his best to get a better look at the stranger. Unfortunately, the figure vanished before he could do so. One moment it was there, the next it just seemed to melt into the shadows, disappearing from sight.

"Well, I don't believe that it was a ghost," Enri finally said, breaking the eerie silence that surrounded them "But I will admit, his death was pretty odd. There's all sorts of creatures in the Great Forest, some powerful, some mysterious. Some say that an ancient evil was imprisoned in those woods during the time of the Demon Gods. But they're just that: stories."

"Right," Gareth said, a small nervous smile on his face.

Ainz noticed how pale the bard was. He looked as though he were reliving a nightmare. Even after everyone's attention was turned away, Gareth kept staring at the forest.

Before Ainz could ask the bard if there was something wrong, Nfirea spoke.

"Mr. Momon."

"Hm?" The armored necromancer turned to the young herbalist.

"I-I have a question to ask you and Lady Nabe...in private."

Ainz paused. This didn't sound very good, but he decided that he should hear Nfirea out before he makes any rash decisions. "Very well," the necromancer said.

The two copper ranked adventurers followed Nfirea away from Enri, Gareth, and the Swords of Darkness. The trio walked until they were well out of earshot of the villagers and the other adventurers. After making sure there was no one else around, Nfirea turned to Ainz and Narberal and asked a question that almost threw the Overlord of Nazarick for a loop.

"Mr. Momon are you...are you Ainz Ooal Gown?"

---

"...and then I said to him 'oh yeah, you and what army?'" Gareth finished his story with a flourish.

The Swords of Darkness burst out laughing.

"You did not say that," Lukrut said, wiping away a tear.

"I did indeed," the bard replied with a sly smile.

"So then what happened?" Ninya asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Well, he chased me down with a small army. It was pretty embarrassing. I didn't even get very far. Luckily, my brother and the rest of my friends came to my rescue."

"Well that's good," Dyne said, taking a drink from his waterskin.

After Momon, Nabe and Nfirea went off to talk about something, Enri went off to check on Nemu, and the Swords of Darkness were all gathered in the shade of a nearby tree taking a break and having lunch. After they noticed Gareth standing alone a short distance away and staring off at the looming treetops of the Great Forest of Tob, the Adventurers invited him to sit and eat with them.

Gareth was reluctant, not really wanting to intrude on their lunch, but after they insisted, the bard sat down beside Ninya and took part in their meal.

As the meal progressed, the bard cast a wary glance over to the Great Forest every few minutes.

While he didn't believe in ghosts, the bard couldn't help but think of the strange, crying woman he ran into in the forest. Could she be the ghost? If she was, then it was a good thing that Momon showed up when he did. While he wasn't confident in taking on a real life dragon, Gareth had even less confidence in facing a real ghost. There's no telling what he could do to it, or what it could do to him.

The bard vaguely recalled some ghostly enemies from the game, but they were rather low level, and lurked about in tombs and graveyards. Whoever or whatever this thing is, Gareth should keep away from the Great Forest from now on, especially with how the woman reacted to him. The bard shivered, remembering the eerie purple aura that surrounded her.

His thoughts turned to Kane and the others. He should get going or at least send a [Message], letting them know that he was still alive.

…

During the course of lunch, Gareth paused and cast one final glance toward the Great Forest. The ordinary looking sea of green swayed in the warm afternoon breeze. His eyes narrowed a little. Although he couldn't sense the ghost, the bard could've sworn he sensed something else. Something powerful. This powerful presence was present when Hamsuke mentioned that someone was watching them. However, it quickly disappeared when everyone turned their attention toward the forest, and it hasn't returned since. Could it be the ghost? Doubtful, but whatever it was, it's gone. For now.

After everyone had finished eating, Ninya and Lukrut began asking Gareth questions. Most of them related to his profession as a bard and his experience in the Guild. While he was able to dodge some and give a few vague answers, the young Adventurers wanted to know more. Eventually, Gareth decided to share an old story from his time in Yggdrasil. With some modifications, it quickly caught their attention and seemed to impress them.

Gareth liked the Swords of Darkness. They weren't very high in rank, but they seem competent and experienced. They were pretty friendly too. From the way they treated each other, they seemed more like a group of friends or a family than Adventurers. Gareth could feel a lot of good vibes radiating from them.

With his story completed, the bard took a drink from his own waterskin. The cool water was heavenly on his parched throat. After his drink, he noticed that Ninya looked rather glum.

"Hey," he said, nudging the young mage lightly.

"Huh?" Ninya blinked, snapping out of whatever daze that held the mage.

"Why so glum?"

"Oh, uh, it's just...it's just your story."

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" Ninya struggled for words "It's just...your story made me think of my sister."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Ninya said, growing somber. "I-I just miss her, that's all."

Gareth frowned. "Is she…?"

"Dead? No, at least I don't think so. I hope she still lives."

Noticing the bard's confusion, Ninya continued with great reluctance.

"After our parents died...we had to rely on each other. But then that noble took her away…"

From the disgust and quiet anger in the young mage's voice, and the fact that they were technically in Re-Estize, Gareth got the gist of what Ninya was inferring.

"That's horrible," the bard stated, outrage plain on his face. "Isn't there anything you could do?"

"It's why I became an Adventurer," Ninya said, a small smile forming on the magic caster's face. "I hope to one day earn enough money to buy her freedom."

"Even if you do get the money, they might not let her go," Lukrut warned grimly.

"Assuming she's even alive," Ninya said grimly, nodding in agreement with the ranger.

Gareth was silent. He remembered the lecherous guard and his pals back in Arven, what they wanted to do to Lydia and how they thought they could just shove coins into the bard's hands and get their way with no questions asked. It filled him with disgust and hatred, a kind that he never felt before. Gareth wished he could help Ninya, but he didn't even know where to begin.

What could he do? Sure, he had magic and could go Rambo on those guys, but from what he gathered during his time in this world, corruption ran deep and was organized. Even if he saved people and blasted the thugs that carry out these criminal deeds, more would rise up. If they were as organized and as powerful as people claim, they could possibly even turn the law and the general population against him. It wasn't impossible, but Gareth knew that in order to put an end to this type of foe, it'll take time and careful planning.

"You're lucky, you know," Ninya said suddenly.

"Hm?" Gareth blinked, snapping out of his thoughts.

"To have a brother who looks after you. You two are sort of like me and my sister. We looked after each other and are willing to do anything for each other."

The bard nodded. Feeling an overwhelming feeling of guilt building in his gut and sadness coming from the young mage, Gareth reached into his pack and withdrew his coin pouch. After fishing out a few coins for himself, he tossed the still amply full leather pouch to the young mage.

Ninya jumped in surprise as the pouch landed beside the young adventurer.

"What's this?"

"A little something to help you get closer to your goal," Gareth answered with a shrug.

The young mage opened the pouch and gaped at the amount contained within. Ninya began sputtering and coming up with an excuse to not accept it, but Gareth waved a hand.

"Keep it. You need it more than I do. Besides," he smiled at Ninya, "it's for a good cause."

Tears began to well up in Ninya's eyes. The young mage pulled the bard into a tight hug. "Thank you!" Ninya cried.

"No problem," the bard said, bashfully.

As Ninya released Gareth from the hug, the bard noticed Momon, Nabe, and Nfirea approaching. The young herbalist looked relieved while Nabe looked upset about something. Gareth had noticed that they went off somewhere to talk in private. Whatever they discussed apparently made Nabe seem grim. Then again, from what he's seen so far, the raven-haired woman didn't seem like a cheery, outgoing person anyways.

"Get your things together," Momon told the gathered adventurers. "We're leaving in a few minutes."

"Already?" Lukrut asked, surprised.

Nfirea nodded. "Aside from some supplies, I have everything I need."

"Well that was quick," the ranger joked as he rose and stretched his limbs. "Probably the quickest job I've been on so far. Kinda hoping for more action, more adventure, maybe even fight a real-life ghost."

"Not me," Ninya cut in, standing and pocketing the recently gifted bag of coins. "The goblins and ogres were more than enough. I don't feel prepared to take on a ghost."

"Especially one powerful enough to kill an Adventurer as skilled as Valen Highblood," Dyne added.

Gareth rose to his feet as well and watched as the Swords of Darkness gathered their belongings and packed away their meal. Nfirea went and retrieved their wagon. As the adventurers helped the herbalist load the baskets of herbs into the back of the wagon, the bard turned to Momon, who stood nearby, and asked "Where are you off to?"

"Back to E-Rantel," the armored Adventurer answered plainly. "Are you going to join us?"

"Unfortunately not," Gareth shook his head. "I must get back to my group - they must be worried sick by now. It was a pleasure meeting you though, Sir Momon, Lady Nabe. May we cross paths again."

He gave them another theatrical bow, earning him another silent scoff from Nabe, before they parted ways. The blond watched the group leave the village, with Nfirea driving the wagon as the Swords of Darkness and Momon escorting it. Meanwhile, Hamsuke trotted behind the wagon with Nabe on her back. The odd party made their way beyond the village's fortifications and through the sea of golden wheat. He turned to leave as well.

"Gah!" Gareth was admittedly startled when he saw Nemu standing right behind him with those large, shining eyes, staring at him intently.

"Do you have to go, Mr. Bard?" the young girl pouted, and Gareth had to resist the urge to pinch her chubby cheeks.

"Unfortunately, yes I do, little lady," Gareth gave her a pout in exchange, making the little redhead giggle. "I got friends who are probably worried sick about me."

"Can't you stay a little longer?" Nemu asked, her eyes wide and hopeful.

"Wish I could, but I have to go. A bard rarely stays in one place for too long."

The young girl's eyes began to water and sadness entered her adorable little face. Feeling a twinge of guilt, Gareth added quickly. "B-but that doesn't mean I can't come and visit. I'll even bring my friends! My brother knows all sorts of neat tricks."

Although the young girl seemed to be considering his words, Gareth could see that Nemu was still rather disappointed. The bard thought quickly. He didn't want to leave the kid on a sour note, and he wished Kane was there. His brother was better with kids than he was. Noticing Enri appearing from a nearby house, an idea came to the bard's mind.

"How about one last song before I leave?" Gareth suggested, unslinging his lute. "And next time I'm in the area, my friends and I can stop by and perform more songs."

Nemu considered the blond's words. Gradually, the young girl's expression brightened up and she nodded.

"There you are Nemu!" Enri said, worry clear in her voice. "I was looking all over for you!"

"I finished my chores!" the young girl told her elder sibling. "I just wanted to hear another song."

"I don't know..." Enri said slowly. She looked at Gareth, a weak smile formed on her lips "We don't have much money and-and I don't think we can pay you."

"It's fine," the bard told her with a smile, "this one's on the house. Besides, playing music and sharing stories that make people happy is a reward on its own."

The blond haired girl blinked in surprise and her cheeks turned a light pink. Enri turned and called out for the other villagers to gather around. Those within the sound of her voice came, human and goblin. After his audience gathered around and seated themselves on the ground, Gareth explained his intention to leave but not before sharing a final story and song. The small crowd understood and listened intently as the bard got to work.

Gareth spun them a tale about a cruel and greedy king who once ruled with an iron fist, until one day he was betrayed by his brother and his cold hearted bride. Bereft of kingdom and gold, the wicked king was forced to wander and live like a vagabond, surviving on the kindness of strangers and those he once oppressed. The bard plucked the strings of his lute and subtly sprinkled magic into his words, soothing his audience physically and emotionally. Eventually, he began to transition into his song.

"...the greedy king contemplated his lot in life," Gareth said, slowly pacing back and forth before his audience. "He no longer had a castle, an army, nor his gold. He was utterly miserable and yet, he noticed how happy the peasants of his kingdom were. They had very little, yet they were far happier than he was. With no other course, the king decided that he should try and live like his subjects. Perhaps he could discover the secret to happiness. But what should he do? What sort of life should he live?"

Gareth began playing a more upbeat and lively tune. Music from a variety of other instruments joined in from out of thin air, harmonizing, supporting and adding onto the tune.

"If I were a jolly blacksmith," Gareth sang "what a happy guy I'd be. I would do all kinds of blacksmith stuff in my blacksmithery! I would hit the thing with the other thing, till I made a different thing! If I were a jolly blacksmith..."

This drew some laughs, and Gareth spoke. "No, no, that doesn't feel right. There must be something easier. Ah!"

"If I were a friendly farmer, wouldn't that be oh so sweet?" Gareth sang, a wistful expression appeared on his face, pretending to be the foolish king in his story. "I'd be planting greens and lots of beans and other things to eat. Then I'd plant some eggs, then a couple pigs and a yummy chocolate cake."

That drew even more laughter than before as the bard continued his song and story. It was a good story, fairly simple and easy to tell. Gareth omitted some unnecessary details, but kept it true to the original show. The benefits of spending a lot of time watching old TV shows and reading old books was that he had an ample supply of songs and stories to draw from. Thanks to his enhanced, inhuman memory, Gareth could remember them clearly and vividly should the need arise.

Eventually, the story began to wind down to its conclusion.

Gareth plopped on the ground, expressing exaggerated frustration and disappointment.

"I don't know how to do anything except be a king! No one wants me to be a king…"

The crowd was silent now and he could see some faces growing sympathetic. At this point in the story, the king quickly realized that he wasn't cut out for the life of a peasant. He realized that it wasn't nearly as easy as he originally thought. Everything he did ended in spectacular failure, and he realized just how empty his life truly was.

"What am I supposed to do? I don't have a skill, no niche to fill...no one to come home to…"

Eventually, the king realized that no matter what he did, he'd still be the same old rotten king he was in the past, only now he had nothing. The king then realized that he needed to truly change.

Gareth ended the song on a somber note, the last notes of his music hung in the air for a few moments then faded into silence. A few long seconds later, the crowd erupted into applause.

The bard jumped to his feet and gave a bow. The applause gradually ended and Gareth slung his instrument to his back.

"And now, I must be off!" the bard declared. Noticing some saddened looks, Gareth added. "But never fear, I shall visit this wonderful village the next time in the area, which I hope will be soon. You have my word."

This made some smile, and the villagers wished him luck and a safe journey. A few rushed to their homes and returned bearing some bread, cheese and meat, wrapped in cloth. Although Gareth tried to decline, the villagers insisted.

"For the long journey," one woman said with a smile.

The bard reluctantly accepted their kind gifts, placing them in his pack with a heavy sense of guilt. These villagers had suffered a lot and had so little, but they still insisted on giving him some food for his journey. Gareth could fly - hell, he could teleport! It made him feel like he was stealing and lying to their faces. Regardless of what he felt, the bard had to leave now. He had to get back to Kane and the others.

Gareth gave one final bow and set off from the village. The villagers and the goblins watched him go, wishing him well and expressing their hopes of him returning to visit.

Definitely coming back to this place, Gareth promised in his mind.

He turned and waved them goodbye. When he was beyond the wheat fields and at the top of the hill, Gareth looked back one more time. In the distance, he saw that the villagers were no longer there, having gone back to their chores and training. However, the bard could make out a small, single figure standing at the entrance of the village, still waving him goodbye.

It was Nemu.

Gareth smiled a little as he gave her a final wave. The next time he was in Carne, he'll have to bring her a gift. The bard continued on, following the path out of the village until the village was no longer in sight. It was late in the afternoon when the bard paused in the middle of the path. Around him were green fields and scant trees. Once he was sure that he was alone, Gareth raised his hand to his ear and contacted Kane through [Message].

["Nice to hear your sorry voice,"] Kane joked. ["Where've you been? Did the dragon eat you, or are you mole shit now? Yeesh, imagine that, spending the rest of eternity as a sentient puddle of animal shit."]

["Ha ha,"] Gareth said, rolling his eyes. ["Very funny. No, I'm not a pile of shit. I'm alive...I think."]

["Where are you?"]

["Outside, on the other side of the Azerlisia Mountains and far to the south. I'm a little south of the Great Forest of Tob and a little village called Carne."]

There was a momentary pause.

["Sheesh, that's far."] Kane said, sounding impressed.

["How do you know that?"] Gareth asked ["I've never heard of Carne before today."]

["Got a map right here, thanks to our new buddies from Feo Jera, the Dwarven Capital."]

["Where are you?"]

["Back at the Great Rift and having a massive feast in celebration of our awesome success and mourning the dead, you included. Too bad you're not here."]

Gareth sighed. ["Gee sorry, I was busy distracting a pissed off Dragon Lord and trying to find my way out of a city filled with giant mole people."]

["How did you end up that far south anyway?"]

The bard considered explaining but let out an extended sigh. ["I'll tell you later. I'll teleport to your location."]

["Whoa, whoa, whoa don't do anything yet!"]

["What? Why?"]

["Because, genius, you're still technically missing. You can't just pop in and yell 'surprise!' and not raise a few questions."]

Gareth nodded slowly, realizing the stupidity of his action.

["So...what should I do?"] Gareth asked.

["I have an idea"] Kane said, sounding rather pleased with himself.

---

Joy and celebration filled the fortress at the Great Rift. The dwarven garrison currently drank, feasted and sang songs of glory alongside their human comrades. Commander Balmund Stonefist ducked past a large bear of a man as he lumber past, carrying mugs of frothing ale to a table full of Adventurers and dwarven warriors.

It filled the commander's heart with warmth and peace, hearing singing and laughter ring out through the halls of the fortress. Too long had the great structure sat in grim silence, anxiously anticipating the impending onslaught of the Quagoa. Now, thanks to General Zirdam and his forces, as well as that Damien fellow's mechanical wonders, the Quagoa forces have been driven off, with the much higher casualties belonging to the mole men. Damien's golems (or as he preferred to call them, "automatons") and his "tanks" were a huge factor for the general's victory.

CLUNK. CLUNK. CLUNK.

Speak of the Demon Gods. Balmund looked up, and saw two of those Sentinels walking by him. Their metal and porcelain heads quickly looked around their surroundings, almost like a watchful lizard, as they made sure that no enemies were nearby. Despite the successful mission, Damien still felt it necessary that his clockwork machines should still keep watch, and he agreed. That's why he had his machines spread out throughout their fortress, patrolling everywhere in a precise and timely manner in pairs of two. The remaining machines were left to stick around in some of the rooms, including the banquet hall, where they stood quietly, watching over them with extreme diligence.

One would think that having a tall, looming machine of death share the same room with you as you ate and celebrated would bring the atmosphere down, but after seeing them work so hard to keep them alive, they were simply treated as one of their own. Last the Commander checked, Damien even authorized trivial games like arm-wrestling contests to be done with them, and some of the braver (or drunker) ones even sparred with them.

The seasoned dwarf couldn't help but admire the strange man's weaponry. They made quick work of the initial wave of Quagoa who tried to storm their gates. Had the Dwarf Kingdom possessed such weapons in the beginning, perhaps they wouldn't be in such a precarious situation. It was because of them that they currently were celebrating, and not mourning and burying more of Balmund's warriors and kin.

Commander Balmund navigated his way through the crowded corridors and chambers filled with rowdy celebrators, trying to find a nice quiet corner to drink in peace. Eventually, the seasoned commander made his way to the rampart overlooking the front gate and the bridge.

Although it wasn't nearly as quiet as he would've liked it, it was a lot more peaceful than inside. The commander sighed and leaned against the wall. He peered into the dark beyond the illumination coming from the fortress.

The ancient stone bridge was clean of Quagoa corpses, but it still sported bloody smears and dark stains from their attempted assault. Balmund could still remember their screams and the way they were torn apart. It was over in minutes. He shivered, remembering how the machines went from nearly still and quiet statues to beings of death, destroying their enemies with brutal and cold efficiency. Even if a Quagoa was lucky enough to take apart one of them, the automaton would self destruct, electrocuting the mole man before it's metal body was blown up, and assuming that Quagoa was unlucky enough to survive that, two more of the sentinels would take their fallen's place, quickly finishing what the first started, before running towards the next victim.

When the battle was done and when the general's forces returned, the Regent Council was there and welcomed them back with open arms. They hailed the Adventurers as heroes and threw this big feast. It was a great morale boost for all dwarves. For the first time in centuries, they had a real victory, and even recovered a treasured artifact from their past. The last the commander saw of the vaunted council, they were discussing a possible alliance with this Damien figure, or at least a way to acquire his marvelous weapons. The raven-haired man seemed to jump at the idea, and chattered excitedly with the leaders of the Dwarf Kingdom. It'd be a great help if some sort of agreement was reached.

The old dwarf commander could feel that things were changing. There was something in the air that seemed...different. He couldn't place it exactly, whether this sense of change was good or ill. Regardless if it was good or bad, Balmund felt that things weren't going to be the same. He took a deep sip from his mug of ale.

"Mind if I join you?" a voice asked from behind.

The dwarf commander spat out his drink in surprise and began coughing. He turned, wiping away the foam and spilled ale from off his tunic. Standing there, tall and as pale as death, was the adventurer Kane.

Even in the bright, ambient glow of the torches scattered about the fortress, the pale human almost faded into the eternal darkness that surrounded the fortress. His night black hair flowed past his shoulders, a mug in hand.

Balmund nodded as he finished coughing. The assassin in black walked, no, glided, to Balmund's side. He gazed out beyond the rampart.

"All quiet," Balmund said, nodding at the bridge and to the opposite side of the Great Rift.

"Hmm," Kane nodded in agreement. He took a sip from his cup.

The dwarf commander and the pale assassin stood together and stared out into the darkness for a long moment. Balmund held his mug in his hands, drumming his fingers as he tried to think of something to say.

He heard that the assassin's brother, the blond bard, was among the fallen. In his many years of service, Balmund had lost many warriors, and had to bear the bad news to their relatives. Although some words of comfort and consolation came to mind, the commander wasn't able to utter them. He didn't know Kane well enough and worried about saying the wrong thing. But there was another reason. There was something about Kane that didn't sit right with the old dwarf.

Kane radiated this aura that made Balmund uneasy. His unnaturally pale features reminded him of a corpse, and the way that the assassin moved, it seemed unnatural for a human.

If he didn't know any better, the seasoned commander would have assumed that Kane was a-

"What's that?" the assassin said suddenly, interrupting Balmund's thoughts.

The fort commander blinked, and saw Kane pointing towards the bridge.

Balmund looked and saw, limping toward the fortress was a humanoid shape. The commander made a sound, and in seconds, two of Damien's sentinels arrived. He pointed to the approaching figure and the sentinels focused their glowing eyes on the shape. Their eyes glowed brighter and brighter until they projected a powerful beam of light, banishing the darkness that masked the figure, revealing a tattered, but living human.

The man was blond, tall, and his clothes were covered in dirt and smeared in blood. He looked as though he crawled through hell, and barely made it out alive.

"There you are!" Kane shouted at the man on the bridge. "What kept you?"

"Oh, you know, dragons, Quagoa," the blond man on the bridge replied casually, "and I got turned around in all those tunnels. Do you think you could open the gates please? I really could use a bath...and a nap."

Balmund rubbed his eyes and stared at the blond man.

"Hold on, is that...?" the commander asked slowly.

"Indeed it is" Kane answered with a grin.

"But how is he…?"

"Alive? Well, I'm sure that's quite a tale to tell." The assassin looked at Balmund, his dark eyes shining in the light. "Would you be so kind as to open the front gates, please?"

The old dwarf nodded, and barked down at the warriors posted at the gates. As the gates slowly creaked open, Balmund stared at Kane with interest. The pale man didn't seem phased in the least at the fact that his brother had returned from what was certain death alive and well. In fact, if he didn't know any better, it almost seemed as if he was expecting the bard.

Who, or better yet, what, was Kane?

Balmund shivered and took a deep sip of what was left in his mug. Maybe it was best to just enjoy this night, count his good fortune and not think much further on this.

He might not like the answers to those questions.

---

(Starknight2.0: Well? What do you think? Ainz is still in the story it's just he's not the central focus. Thank you for reading and everything.)

LW: Still can't believe nobody commented on the sudden League of Legends crossover. Stay tuned for more surprise crossover ideas! ^^

(List of References)

(Chapter title): song by Anthrax

Smashing Pumpkins: the song used by Gareth to put Hamsuke to sleep was "Farewell and Goodnight" by the Smashing Pumpkins.

Galavant: the song Gareth sang before leaving Carne was "If I were a Jolly Blacksmith" from the tv show 'Galavant.'

I don't own the lyrics of the songs used in this chapter.