...

A man, who could be described as old, walked through the dark and haunted halls. Despite his age, he carried himself in a dignified manner that radiated youth. As he approached the sunlight, the rays gleaned off his white beard, reflecting his inner feelings.

From the sound alone, there was only one set of footsteps.

But he knew better.

With every step he took, his partner did too.

Her paced mirrored him as a shadow would.

Every step towards the light made their hearts beat faster; pumping with adrenaline.

As creations of the Supreme Beings, it was their greatest honor to serve. So living their entire lives without the opportunity to do so left them in utter despair. All they could do was blame themselves for their uselessness as they watched their creators leave. One by one, they all went.

...Except him.

The last Supreme Being who stayed found the grace to give them a chance to prove themselves.

And they wouldn't fail.

When the man immersed into the sun, he halted. His partner, a beautiful young girl with bangs and a ponytail, halted too. Her flawless, porcelain skin gave purpose to the sun.

"Narberal Gamma, I do not need to express the gravity of our task, do I?"

"Of course not. We will see to it his will is done."

"Good. Then let us begin."

The elderly man held conviction in his words. It wasn't the conviction to purpose or pride. It was the conviction of desperation. If he were to fail the first task given to him, it wouldn't only disgrace his value as a servant of Nazarick; but also his creator, Touch Me, who created him; and his master, Momonga, who gave him this opportunity.

The pair walked through the surface of the Tomb they've been shrouded in with haste. Although they were quick, they didn't fail to note their surroundings. The Butler's head turned left and right, remembering all the details his eyes would permit.

Narberal was observing too; but where Sebas was noting the terrain, she noted the life around them. If there was anything that proved to be a threat to her home, she would retreat and inform her master.

But there was nothing.

The Tomb they held to the heavens was enclosed in nothing but land.

Nothing but vast, open land.

The ground hardened from dry mud, and the traces of grass spread thin.

Other than that, it was empty.

There were no trees, no animals, no monsters.

Only an endless road of emptiness.

"Hm? I have never seen the surface, but I recall Touch Me-sama referencing a Ghestenberg Fog before."

"What is it?"

"If memory serves me right, it was a fog in the Grenbera Swamp surrounding the Great Tomb of Nazarick that applied multiple restraints and debuffs that even my creator complained about."

Narberal's eyes widened with shock. To think there was something that could hinder a Supreme Being.

"You don't think..."

"I can't say for certain. But it is a possibility we have already been subdued by it."

"-Tsk!"

The task that they should have completed with ease, and they had already found themselves in a hitch.

"There's only one way out of this now."

Narberal nodded in understanding, taking up a combat posture. When applied with a status debuff, there could only be one presently applied at a time. If they had been under a confusion debuff, they wouldn't notice it and it wouldn't stack with a paralysis debuff.

Thus, Narberal began charging electricity into her arm. The mana around her began swirling, creating faint traces of electric sparks in the air. A link of energy swayed between the joints in her body, moving to dance around her spear. Once it built up, she shot the spear into the sky-

"[Indra's Arrow]!"

- and called out the 9th tier spell.

From the sky, the clouds grew dark, gravitating to the center where it spiraled. In the vortex of it all, a flash of thunder shot out. In the form of an arrow, it pierced straight towards Sebas, standing as an uptight wall.

One instant.

In less than a second from when the strings of lightning released, Sebas had been hit.

To any onlookers, it would only appear as a flash in the sky. Nobody would recognize it like lightning, and would even claim it was a hallucination.

The dignified butler still stood, but his clothes were sprinkled with dirt.

He paced back and forth, but every so often his leg would grow stiff and lock.

"It appears I've been paralyzed."

From his stance, he took off one of his white gloves.

"[Spiritual Alignment]"

Activating a skill, his hand pressed against his body and he felt the traces of electricity leave him. In the end, he removed the paralysis and they continued with their task.

"I apologize for the delay, but it seems we weren't affected by any fog."

Narberal's face contorted.

"Sebas-sama, if you could cure a status with your skill, why didn't you do that first?"

The corners of the Butler's eye crinkled as he let out a gentle smile.

"Ah, it appears I hadn't thought about that."

As the two continued their search radius, Naberal's face remained stoic; but somewhere inside, she felt uneasy for attacking another servant of Nazarick - her direct superior nonetheless, and all while it could've been avoided.

The pair roamed through the barren lands and it was a repetition of what they saw. But-

Sebas' footsteps halted, and Naberal's followed.

- from the edge of the horizon, something approached.

"Contact?"

"It appears so, but they are relatively weak."

Rows of various Undead charged towards them. Their ranks were filled with low tier skeletons, zombies, and bone vultures; nothing the pair couldn't handle. As they got closer, a forceful voice of power called out:

"Greeting, do any of-"

Without restraint nor thought, the swarm ignored Sebas' words and instantly began attacking them.

He clenched his fists and released a sigh of regret.

Fist for fist, the two sides exchanged blows.

But Sebas was quicker. The Zombies tried to maul him as he passed by them-

"Errgh!"

- but they would miss. Only to hit another of their peers instead.

Narberal spun her spear and pierce the cores of each prey. One stab, one life - or unlife.

The undead's cries vanished as they rose. The servants of Nazarick made quick work of them, unleashing their irritation for wasting their time.

When the undead was dispersing into dust, the Butler of Steel brushed his shoulders, ridding himself of filth. Narberal dusted her uniform and shook her spear of all the guts laced onto it.

"Such a waste…"

His words held pity for not finding a suitable sentient being his master requested.

"...at least we know they do not pose a threat."

His words were to be optimistic, but given the recent events, even he was finding it hard to not fear failing.

As if their thoughts reached the Supreme Being himself, the hairs on his back tinged.

Someone else was approaching.

No, it wasn't someone.

It was a group. One filled with at least two dozen were traveling perpendicular to the path they were set on…

...and traveling fast.

The man brought his hand up to the direction the group was heading in. His fist had turned to a point, and he calmly spoke to his partner:

"Narberal, take us there."

From the edges of his eyes, he could see the girl squinting. And then a faint smile formed.

"Hey! Did you see that?"

A distraught voice cut through the air, and then the rattling of metallic bars ceased.

He was a gruff man with a slightly average build, but a scar ran through his face, rummaging his right eye. An eye patch covered it, and the only signs were the faded skin seeping out. He wasn't extraordinary, which proved useful. The lack of talent forced his hand to notice the finer details whom those talented could dismiss.

The several people around him turned to see what caught his eye, and -

"River, did you see something?"

- Though nobody questioned his judgment, there wasn't anything to see. Whatever it was, it was gone.

"No, it's nothing. I just thought I saw a flash."

"Haha, so even that eye of yours can make mistakes."

River shot a glare towards his comrade. It was dangerous. Where they are, with a large load, one wrong turn could be fatal.

"Stay diligent. Something's amiss."

From behind, a raspy sound reached their ears. It was horrendous, one that would make any pair of ears bleed.

But to them, it was a lifeline.

That voice is what steadied them.

River turned to their guest of honor, then asked:

"Davernoch-sama, did you sense something?"

"Mhm, indeed. It's different from a flash, but I feel movement."

Stepping closer to the group of men, he glanced at the cargo.

Rusty, metallic crates packed with women; all of which were young and younger, but none were old. If they could be divided in two, the categories would be shirts and skins. One side wore dresses, garnered with fancy details; while the other wore rags, barely covering their womanly parts.

Their only commonality was their appearance; more so, their looks.

Be it a diamond in the rough, or a pristine jewel; each one of them held features of precious beauty.

Davernoch's figure became visible. He was wrapped in a dark cloak and a round orb of magic fit into his palm. Even with his attire hiding him, everyone here knew who he was.

Or what he was.

The skin on his face melted, dripping like wax, and the hideous sight wrought cries from the cages he passed.

An Elder Lich

River's eye narrowed in the distance. He had only heard rumors of this legendary figure. While they were carrying out the same task, he placed his attention to the matter at hand rather than conversing with this imposing being.

Among the organization he was a part of, there were only six who stood above everyone else through their prowess alone.

Davernoch was one of them.

"How many?" River asked. If he came himself, the situation must be dire.

"Two hundred, maybe three,"

The team around who heard this shuddered at the thought. Fighting such quantities would be difficult, but they knew they would win. With Davernoch here, defeat was impossible.

"No, perhaps none. They're not heading towards us."

As an Undead, he had the ability to sense the life around him: Plants, Humans, and Monsters.

But the reverse was true too.

He could sense his kin through a mental connection. Thus, the reason he was picked for this job. Traversing over these terrains was always uncertain.

Would there be an encounter? And how many would there be?

They could travel the same route a hundred times and encounter none, and vice versa.

With the constantly spawning Undead, traveling through the Katze Plains was a gamble.

But not for them.

Not him.

With Davernoch, who could feel the Undead, he could navigate a route with the certainty of no collisions.

In other words, he was their insurance policy.

"There must be something there. The Undead wouldn't move in masses if something wasn't."

"Do we continue? Or change course?"

"Adjust the route Southwards. If there's a change, the boss will want to know."

The men replied, "Yes!" and followed his instructions. Whether their confidence was born of their estimation of the environment, or if it was the presence of a member of the Six Arms, nobody knew. The only common thought held among the men were their lustful eyes to the rear. Menacing grins found a way onto their faces as they thought, If we find something good, the boss will let us break them in.

The group began moving and the wagon wheels rumbled over the cracks in the ground when-

"Hold on!"

- Davernoch alertly cried out.

"What is it?"

"...They're gone…" said Davernoch, "...all of them… they're all gone…"

Undead couldn't make facial expressions, yet they could tell he was astounded.

"Wh-wha-"

"Davernoch-sama, please don't joke like that!"

"Y-yeah! See! We still have the cargo! Haha!"

The pleas filled around, all trying to solidify themselves. But among them, only River dug for more.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. They just dis-"

A sudden appearance of an old man and a maid cut him off. Their wagons halted and the pair in front of them stole their attention.

The people in front, who could see the maid's complexion, eluded into their fantasies, One more, and a nice one too.

They were all thinking of ways to kill the gramps and add the girl to their collection, but-

"Greetings humans, my name is Sebas Tian. And this is Narberal Gamma."

- the old man's voice cut through their delusions.

"Our master has extended you all an invitation to his domain. Would you be so kind to follow us?"

Despite the pair's politeness, some of the rash men hollered out:

"Hurry up!

"Kill him and take her already!"

"What are you waiting for?"

But nobody moved.

It wasn't that they didn't want to.

They couldn't.

Davernoch raised a hand, ready to incinerate anyone who hastily moved.

"Who gave you humans the authority to give orders on my mission?"

The few men who had been so bold before now shrunk under the crosshairs of a loaded fireball.

"S-sorry Davernoch-sama!"

"W-we were out of line!"

"P-please don't roast us!"

Seeing his group now in order, he averted his attention to the pair. He wasn't a cautious person by nature. As a legendary undead, he didn't need to fear anything this world had to offer; but something felt off about the duo.

"Now, why exactly should I accept your offer?"

Sebas didn't immediately answer. His eyes focused on the crates behind them; which didn't go unnoticed.

"Hm, that is a good question. I cannot understand my master's intentions, but I am certain he can fulfill any of your desires."

"Does your master have other servants too? Or is it just you two?"

"Of course, there are many who serve him with pride."

Davernoch thought for a bit and shifted his eyes to the maid. If there were other gems on par, or even half as good as her, he would get a huge promotion from the boss. And in the worst-case scenario, he could kill everyone and take the girl.

"Fine. Take us to this master of yours…"

The old man nodded and turned to the maid.

"...but don't waste the time I allotted you. Or you will come to know the power of the Undead King."

As the words rolled into the air, the atmosphere got heavy. A tremendous pressure pushed down upon them; one they couldn't find in their knees to withstand.

But it was over quickly, and they found themselves in a new location. When he looked around, he saw he was surrounded by statues and mausoleums in four cardinal directions. Statues of knights and guardians circled to the perimeter as if to protect the resting of the deceased…

...or imprison their lost souls.

Whichever one it was, Davernoch wouldn't know. He gazed around at the old man and the maid when he felt another surge of pressure wash over him.

But it wasn't like the first one, which was of pure rage.

This wave of terror was a feeling he hadn't felt. One he was foreign to.

Fear.

"Wait here."

Those two words hung in the air as he watched his subordinates regain their consciousness. As the two figure's backs retreated into the dark hallways, he realized the nature of his unease when the duo first appeared.

Teleportation.

The girl who could only be in her late teens was capable of using a 5th Tier spell. Something not even he could do.

"...Shit…"

Sebas and Narberal traversed through the Great Halls once more. Only this time, they were entering with the success of their instructions, rather than leaving to carry it out.

"Sebas-sama, why did you stop me from killing that one?"

"You have to specify which one. None of them are worthy of our master's presence."

"The one who called himself…"

"Ah! That one. Yes, he was very… tempting,"

Sebas' face grew dark.

Both of theirs were.

"But our master said to invite any sentient beings. To kill him would be to directly disobey him."

Narberal's eyes widened the least bit, but she understood the fine line she danced on.

"I apologize for my rashness."

All the servants of Nazarick would feel the same as she did if they heard the words she heard. But as a servant, it was their role to push their personal desires to the side and prioritize the Supreme Being's ones. Even if her reaction was out of loyalty and devotion, the fear of knowing she almost committed the gravest of sins coiled around her heart.

"Pay it no heed. While I wouldn't suggest opposing our master, I'm sure he would be pleased with your loyalty,

Hearing Sebas' words, she recalled her master's words of delight in their loyalty. Narberal's eyes brightened. Serving such a generous and kind person made her want to strive for greater heights in carrying out his orders.

"His infinite grace might even give you the privilege of ending that one too."

Although she didn't acknowledge it, Sebas knew she was excited about the prospect. He too would feel honor in eliminating someone who disrespected their master. But the time for such thoughts would have to be halted.

Sebas checked his attire once more, appraising if it was worthy of his master's attention.

Sebas eluded from his recollection of memories that led him here, lifting his hand up to the glorious doors he did prior. As his stainless glove was about to come into contact with it, his hand froze. His attention drifted to the tail following him and the hoard of whimpering mutts behind.

He felt pity for the girls and he could guess what their situation was like.

But it would only remain pity.

He wouldn't think twice about his master's words.

As he stomached the disgust he felt for the other guests, his hand rapped on the doors.

And it opened.

Making his way to the center, he could hear the footsteps behind him slow. His eyes met the ground as he bowed.

"Momonga-sama, I have brought the audience you requested."

...