A/N: Long time no update! How's everyone been doing these past two months?
I know, I know, this chapter is sorrowfully overdue. [insert obligatory apology here], yada yada yada, my baaaaaad :p
(I am actually sorry, but I feel it's impossible to seem sincere at this point lol).
After I finished my finals in April/May and got my first covid vaccine, I found myself just wanting to enjoy the start of my summer break after such a long and dismal year which left me feeling wholly burned out. I've been spending a lot of time outdoors with friends and family, and staying cooped up in my office to write, read, or play video began to seem less and less appealing. On the rare occasions over the past couple of months when I did decide to devote a substantial amount of time to writing, I found myself drawn to other projects besides this story, for better or for worse. (Your worse, my better :p).
That being said, after two months of being on the back burner, I've spontaneously become afflicted once again with the unignorable desire to work on this story, so here I am! I indulged myself for long enough: I'm ready to make this my priority again :p. Updates should become more consistent now, I'll tentatively say every two-three weeks, so look forward to it! Thanks for your patience, to those of you who are still interested in this story.
Now then, a quick summary: in the last chapter, I introduced a new variable I'm very excited about, an ecosystem and beings that exist far beyond the scopes of the New World. Celestial beings, as one reviewer so aptly dubbed them, called Solis and Creation, and an insidious threat known as Hollow Daemons.
Back on the mortal plane of existence, Sebas (along with Gargantua) went on a mission to negotiate the long-term relationship of Nazarick and the Re-Estize Kingdom with Zanac, who was eventually persuaded into accepting the proposal of an alliance thanks to Renner, Climb, and Brain, against his better(?) judgment.
Ah and just as a little heads up, for the next undetermined number of chapters, probably ~eight or so, I plan to follow a similar formula: one part of the chapter will revolve around Suzuki on mostly one-shot solo adventures, and the other will focus on characters from Nazarick (or some other prominent side characters, like Neia perhaps). Some will contain OC's, like the one today, some will not. Some weeks, I may even include a third, fluffier narrative.
Even as I'm publishing this chapter, I have no idea what's in store for the wandering Sorcerer King, so if you have any interactions you'd love to see (i.e one I've already seen mentioned more than once is the hope that he will bump into the members of Blue Rose/Evileye) please feel free to mention them in a review or PM.
Yes, that's right, I'm shamelessly asking you for ideas right after a two-month hiatus :p so take advantage of my uncertainty while you can!
Now, on with the chapter!
Chapter 30
"Indulging the Sorcerer King"
"Hmm?"
Suzuki had nearly crossed the Roble Kingdom's border and entered the Slane theocracy when he thought he heard a distant voice, a muted addition to the blend of howling wind, fervent hooves, and susurrating foliage. He tugged back on the reins, compelling his steed to a sudden stop, and looked around.
Just weeks prior, the dirt path he stood upon had been flanked on either side by luscious canopies of tawny leaves that would've obscured his line of sight, but they had since succumbed to winter's reign and so it was easy to see beyond the trees and their petrified bareness. He squinted northward where he suspected the sound originated from and listened: ten seconds passed, and he was about to attribute the noise to his imagination as his horse began restlessly pawing at the ground, but then—
"V-vian—!"
'D-don't look back, Ivan, just keep flying..!"
An exchange of high-pitched voices, carried and amplified by a sudden gust of wind. Suzuki quickly dismounted and brandished a pair of daggers from beneath his riding cloak. The source of the sound was now in view: two flying balls of flickering light, flitting around trees in erratic zig-zags
"Fairies..?" Ainz muttered to himself, his head tilting curiously.
He watched in confusion as they flew by overhead, only for one of them to suddenly break away from the other and darted down towards him, forcing him to lean back reflexively as it stopped on a dime less than a foot away from his face.
Suzuki regarded her skeptically—she looked like a teenage girl, with dainty and petite features embellished by a youthful, freckled complexion, tainted slightly by the anguish, desperation, and frustrating brimming in her eyes.
It was rare for fairies, fragile creatures notorious for their reclusive and prudish natures, to carelessly approach a human like this: they had long since learned the hard way that mankind coveted their bodies for their magical and alchemical properties. To
"V-vian?!" the other fairy cried out incredulously, zipping back around but hesitating a safe distance away. Though he was clearly a male, his voice was as high and his body as small as the girl's.
"..."
Vian ignored her brother's warning cry, eyes locked with the man on horseback. She wanted to speak, wanted to ask him—who her unique intuition informed her might be able to save their home—for help, but she could not. She was terrified of him, this human, a member of a species her parents had warned her since birth to avoid like the plague. She had harnessed a spontaneous swell of courage in her chest and used it to get this close to him, but now it was gone, having evaporated and recondensed into a throat-clogging fear.
She clenched her trembling fists shut at her sides until she felt her nails break the skin of her palms.
She hated herself, her weakness. Her little brother, half her age, could not be faulted for fleeing so easily, and at her behest no less. But she had no such excuse. With her mother and father slain, it was her duty to lead her people: yet all it took was a single whisper from her advisor to convince her that retreat was her only option—because deep down, she wanted it to be. Even though she could've helped as one of the most proficient spellcasters in the sanctuary, the thought of doing so didn't even cross her mind after catching a glimpse of their savage and ravenous attackers. And so to fulfill her selfish desire to escape, hundreds of her subjects had fought and sacrificed themselves without a moment's hesitation. Yet here she was, dithering over the simple task of asking a stranger for help while her people were literally being eaten alive. They were all so much braver than her, it made her physically sick with self-loathing.
"P-please… help us..." she pleaded hoarsely, almost inaudibly, as she stared into the eyes of this human, this callous creature. What if he refused to help: what would she do then? Keep flying, and never look back? As horrible as that sounded, yes, that's probably what she would do. But if it would come to that, perhaps then it would be best if she allowed this human to take her, her heart, her wings, her limbs: with that she could atone for her cowardice, at least a little bit. As long as her brother lived—
"Alright, I'll help you".
Vian blinked, thinking she must have misheard.
"You… you will?"
"Sure. I've got time to spare," he added casually, nodding in the direction she and her brother had fled from: "just lead the way".
"You've got time to spare…" Vian muttered in a daze. Could a human being really be capable of evincing such altruism? And yet, for some reason, she believed both him and his simple reasoning: besides, there was no time to waste. Vian nodded.
"T-thank you," she said, shooting a look over her shoulder: "Ivan, you go to our old safe spot, by the lake".
"What, no way! If you're going back there, then so am I! I can fi—!"
"No, you're staying where it's safe. That's an order. I'll come back for you as soon as I can, but if I don't return by dawn... head northeast to Greenstone valley, we are allied with the wind sprites there," then she turned back to Suzuki, putting an end to the dispute.
"This way, please! I'll explain what's happening along the way!" she exclaimed before shooting off like a rocket, at a speed that she knew was well beyond the capabilities of her brother's immature wings.
She promptly heard and was comforted by the sound of unwavering hoofsteps racing close behind her. She risked a single glance back and was thankful to see her brother, a mere speck of light on the dimming horizon, floating obediently in place where they had left him.
...
Gulp!
The leader of the Lycans licked his chops as yet another fairy slid, kicking and screaming, down his gullet.
Delicious, he thought to himself with a sneer as the fairy's went still inside of him, snuffed out by the gastric juices of its tomb. He jammed his claws into his mouth one by one, licking off the coating of fairy dust.
They weren't very filling—he'd eaten about fourteen already and still wasn't satisfied—but they were damn good, addictively so. They had an almost sour flavor, and no two were the same: his mouth was already beginning to water like a fountain in anticipation for his next morsel. What new nuances would the next snack afford his palate?
He looked around at his long-famished warriors indulging their appetites with reckless abandon and smiled.
Given that their physical prowess is nonexistent, and most of their magic is reserved for illusions and healing, docile forest fairies like these put up practically no resistance in a fight. The fact that their sanctuary only had one way in and out—a small path typically camouflaged with illusory vegetation and rocks—meant there was no escape for anyone.
It's a free buffet! He thought to himself giddily, wiping at the trail of saliva dripping out of his drooping maw with one hand as he snatched another fairy out of the air with his other. He watched it wriggle futilely in his enclosed fist and laughed, squeezing tighter, pushing the air out of its tiny lungs with a shrill hiss. Its golden-hued skin began to turn blue and it thrashed about, punching and pounding at the thumb bent over its chest. Its struggle amounted to little more than an erratic barrage of barely tactile taps against his hand. Its eyes bulged out, buggy and red, threatening to spill out from their sockets for a moment before they rolled back to reveal only a veiny whiteness as the fairy slumped back over his index claw like a rag doll.
As if he was popping a pill, the wolfman tossed the limp body into his maw and snapped it shut, chewing once, twice, flooding his mouth with the delectably metallic sweetness of blood, before swallowing everything in a single satisfying gulp.
As fun as it was to feel them squirm all the way down his throat, it was decidedly much more enjoyable to actually chew them: only then could he appreciate their unique and delicate flavor. For weeks now he and his tribe had been suffering amidst demihuman infighting and turf wars, unable to procure any food other than the flesh of their slain enemies, which was often tough and inedible in all respects except literally, even for palates as indiscriminate as a wolfman's.
But fairy flesh was so soft and full of flavor—melt-in-your-mouth tender, he could actually chew it without having to gnaw at it and then choke it down in what felt to be undigestible lumps.
"Ah," he gasped in realization, smacking his lips before raising a claw to pick at some food he felt embedded between his top right canines. The only downside to eating fairies, it seemed, was bits of their wings always seemed to get stuck between his teeth.
A bit of a nuisance, but I'm sure I'll find a way to manage, he thought, cackling inwardly.
"Oi, Larkan," a voice called out.
"Mmm?" the chief responded distractedly, still picking at his teeth as he turned to face his hunchback lieutenant.
"Someone's comin' 'ere," the albino said with a smirk, raising a jagged finger and waving it through the air.
Larkan closed his mouth and lifted his nose dubiously. A human, this far from its nest?
!
And yet...yes, three distinct scents wafted into his flaring nostrils, igniting his profuse salivation even more.
"A fairy… a horse… and a…" he sniffed the air again to double, triple check. It was too good to be true. But his nose was never mistaken
He smiled.
A single human—a man, unfortunately. They were never as succulent as the females or younglings, but human meat was human meat: a rare delicacy.
Could this perhaps be a gift from the voice as well? the wolf chief wondered with a snicker as he motioned to his men, all of whom had by now also picked up on the human's scent and lost their interest in the paltry appetizers flitting about.
A pair of warriors dove into the brush flanking the sanctum's entrance while the rest of them hid behind the trees, eyes slanted with giddy anticipation and lips furled back in crude sadistic snarls as the sound of a galloping horse grew louder and louder.
Larkan flashed a devilish grin, unable to contain a primal growl from leaking out his mouth.
"Looks like real meat's back on the menu, boys!"
...
"There's the entrance, right here!" Vian said from the corner of Suzuki's vision, pointing towards a rather glaring pathway enclosed by an unnaturally dense thicket of gnarled branches, forming such a perfectly solid and circular tunnel through the trees that it had to have been magically contrived.
"To be honest, I was expecting something a bit more… clandestine. No wonder the demihumans were able to invade your home so easily. It's a miracle you've managed to survive this long, really," Suzuki noted critically as he dismounted from his horse.
Vian grimaced..
"We've always relied on skilled illusionists to protect our home from the outside world. They've kept us safe for centuries, but…" she trailed off, biting her lower lip with a peculiarly shameful expression.
"I see... so it's sabotage, is it?" Suzuki guessed knowingly.
"You're quite perceptive," Vian confessed with a defeated smile: "yes, that may be the case: or at least that's my belief".
Suzuki nodded, eyes glued to the path down which the stench of death wafted towards them. He moved to withdraw a knife from beneath his riding cloak, but hesitated as soon as his hand gripped the hilt.
"W-what's the matter?" Vian stuttered nervously at his dithering stillness, and her face fell when his empty hand came out from beneath his garment.
"Don't tell me you've decided against helping us! Please, I beg of you, I'll do—!"
"No, you misunderstand. I simply have no need for a weapon," he answered plainly before stepping past her.
"E-eh..?" Vian gaped in surprise before shaking her head irately. Her people's lives were on the line here, the least he could do was take things seriously!
"T-this is no time to joke, how do you intend to—"
"[Widen Magic: Detect Life]" Suzuki chanted, ignoring the fairies flustered prattling. His irises took on a violet hue, and he quickly scanned the environment beyond the entrance of gnarled wood.
Two were lying in ambush just beyond his line of sight: eleven more, spread out in groups of two or three, were hiding in the trees' canopy.
"Y-you're a magic caster..?" Vian asked in bewilderment, noticing the color of his eyes: "from your attire, I had presumed you were an assassin or something…"
"That was the point," Suzuki said with a smile before taking his first step down the warped path.
It didn't matter if he hid his magic or not here: it's not as though rumors would spread beyond these forested walls, given how disconnected the fairies were from the rest of civilization. For efficiency's sake, it would be best if he just used magic.
On top of that… he just wanted to. It was fun dabbling in other forms of combat once in a while, but he would always be a magic caster at heart.
He hoped that these demihumans would at least offer him a modicum of resistance, though he knew such a thing was unlikely.
Just as he was about to reach the end of the path, and he could see the lit-up forms of the wolfmen moving in response to his proximity, their legs flexing in preparation to pounce and their ears twitching excitedly to his conspicuous—and what they believed to be unsuspecting—footsteps. He stopped and stretched a hand out in front of him. Vian, despite herself, clung to the stiff fabric over his shoulder as if it was a lifeline and she was stranded in the middle of an ocean. She swallowed hard and held her breath as a bright pale-blue glyph swelled to life before his open palm.
It was time to have a little fun.
"[Double Maximize Magic: Magic Missile]".
ZOOSH!
An instant later, seven balls of blinding light shot out from his fingertips, surging forward into the open terrace to seek out their targets. Two immediately pulled away from the other five at perfect ninety-degree angles and crashed into the wide-eyed ambushers, detonating on impact, extinguishing the light of their lives from Suzuki's vision. This gave the tree-lurkers just enough time to yelp in surprise before four more arbitrarily targeted members were sought out by the homing missiles and freed from their mortal coils. One lycanthrope, either by merit of his own superior reflexes or by pure dumb luck, managed to leap out of the tree he was in and dodge the bolt streaking towards him by the breadth of a hair: though it mattered not, for the magic missile reacted instantly, correcting its path and whizzing back around to ram into his back before his feet even touched the ground.
Splat! Splish! Spulsh!
"Ah," Suzuki sighed self-beratingly as dozens of charred limbs, the results of explosive-induced dismemberment and total body destruction, thudded against the grassy terrain amidst a splash of crimson rain with sickening squelches.
"It seems maximizing the spell was a bit overkill," Suzuki noted awkwardly, kicking away an arm that had landed at his feet before assuming a casual stride. Vian stared at the impossibly sudden carnage laid out before her in both awe and terror, simultaneously alarmed and relieved by her inescapable proximity to the man who had caused it and the unconcerned tone of his voice. She couldn't help but wonder if, by enlisting his aid, she had succeeded only in drawing yet another monster into her home.
At this point, the last few remaining beasts emerged from the treetops, all petrified and frozen among the fleshy chunks of their fellow warriors except for one, larger than the rest, who stood tall with myopic arrogance in front of the rest.
Surely the only reason seven of his warriors had been snuffed out by a single spell was that they were pitifully weak and caught off guard. He had emerged unscathed, after all.
He was strong.
"You're the leader, I presume?" Suzuki asked in a bored tone, coming to a stop and looking up at the almost eight-foot giant towering over him.
Larkan raised an eyebrow and glared down at the magic caster, who had the audacity to come almost within arm's reach with a completely lowered guard, and his lips furled back in annoyance to reveal his luteous fangs.
"That's right, I am," he snarled, leaning down closer. Suzuki could smell his breath, a musty, humid stench of fresh death. Of course, such a smell didn't bother him: as a necromancer of the highest caliber living in a tomb of undead, the scent of death was omnipresent within his life.
Vian however, was not so acclimated to the pungency of death: she plugged her nose and reeled back behind Suzuki's head.
"And who are you, puny magic caster? Tell me, so that after I devour you, I might sacrifice your bones to my ancestral spirits in honor of my subordinates who fell prey to your cheap surprise attack," he snarled menacingly.
"Cheap surprise attack?" Ainz reiterated, his brows furrowing indignantly: "please tell me you at least recognize the irony of such an accusation".
Ah, he's so weak he can't even recognize the power gap between us... Ainz thought sadly, realizing he would find no challenge here after all.
Suddenly, Larkan drew his curved blade with a growl.
"Foolish human, I'll gut you like a swine—!" he bellowed, raising his crude blade high above his head.
!
But just as he was about to bring it down upon the human's tiny skull, the sorcerer suddenly thrust both arms out to his side, and Larkan imagined at once that same blinding attack from before. Judging those beams to be faster than his sword, he abandoned the attack midway and leaped back a few feet in preparation.
"Hoh? What's the matter?" Suzuki, unmoving, taunted curiously: "I was accepting your attack with open arms. Surely even a buffoon like you can recognize that this is not a stance in which I can attack you with magic at close range".
He took a step forward, and Larkan, despite himself, took a step back in response, eyes glued and shifting constantly between both the mage's outstretched hands. And then again, and again, until he was driven in line with the rest of his underlings who watched his retreat with fearful eyes.
"I thought you were going to eat me and avenge your people: what happened to that resolve? " Suzuki went on, pressing forward with increasingly imprudent steps. He didn't even bother glancing at the other lycanthropes as he passed their quivering formation.
Thunk!
Larkan's thundering heart skipped a beat as his back hit the trunk of a great tree. He reached around with one hand to feel the stiffness of his atavistically-bristled fur and looked down at his other, clutching his weapon in a shaky vice grip.
Was he… afraid? Impossible.
He gritted his teeth and leveled as fierce a glare as he could muster towards the sorcerer who was once again only a few steps away.
"T-this is your final warning, human. You're lucky my belly is already full, and I'm feeling especially gracious: leave now, and I won't—" he began to bluff, peeling himself away from the tree.
"Won't what?"
!
With impossible quickness, the sorcerer closed the gap between them and jammed a finger up into his chin, slamming the back of his head against the oak tree with concussive force.
"—kill me?" Ainz finished in a whisper that sounded equally amused and bone-chilling:
"[Piercing Magic Arrow]".
Larkan desperately tried to swing his weapon before the spell could go through, but his arm went limp with a static numbness as a blue bolt shot up through his skull, severing the link between body and mind. His eyes went wide as the light of cognition left them, and his vision faltered into red-tinged blackness as blood oozed down from the top of his punctured head and into his eyes.
"B-boss?!" the hunchback silver wolf whimpered in disbelief as Larkan—'the indomitable ferocity', as he came to be known as throughout the Abelion Hills, a warrior unmatched among the entire Lycanthrope tribe—dropped to the ground like a ton of bricks, his tongue lolling out of his twisted maw to catch his own life essence as it dribbled from the top of his snout.
"O-oi, who the fuck is this guy?!" another wolf cried out, staggering back.
"L-Larkan!"
Ainz spun around and languidly stuffed his hands into his pockets, callously stepping over Larkan's corpse with a sigh as he shut his eyes. The wolves all recoiled in fright under the pressure of his shuttered gaze.
"Such pitiful creatures. Come, I'll euthanize you at once," he declared disinterestedly.
"W-what do we do, what do we do?!" one demanded of the hunchback, his voice having risen an entire octave between the first and second time he asked. The albino was about to reply when suddenly, one of his warriors surged forward, eschewing his weapon before dropping on all fours at a speed fuelled by both rage and desperation, emitting a roar that was both terrified and terrifying.
He closed the gap in an instant this way and leaped for the sorcerer, jaws ready to bite and claws ready to snatch.
"M-mister Sorcerer..!" Vian cried out in alarm, directly into Ainz's ear, before raising her hands above her head and clenching her eyes shut as rows of dagger-like teeth filled her vision.
Suzuki's eyes flashed open, and he too stared directly into the belly of the beast as he uttered a callous and condemning whisper.
"[Fear IV]".
An ominous black wave rippled out from his body: an unignorable promise of death to the hearts of those it crept through and resonated with. The lunging beastman stiffened in midair, its face a perfect mask of shell-shocked terror, and Ainz easily sidestepped its lifeless trajectory. By the time it hit the ground it had gone completely limp, and Vian cringed with each ragdoll-like bounce it made along the mossy ground before skittering to a telling stop.
The other lycans barely had enough time to register what was happening as the predatory aura came surging after them. Their hearts pounding a mile a minute, they turned to run—they didn't need to be struck by the wave to be overwhelmed with fear. They barely made it one step towards the exit before the darkness overtook them, pervaded their very being: death was the only option, so said their brains to their hearts, and so they stopped complicitly.
Ba-dump! Ba-dump! Ba—!
"M...onster…" the albino whispered hoarsely as he and his comrades fell to the ground, never to rise again.
Vian watched their still bodies, unblinking, almost praying that they would get up. She would rather a power like that not exist in this world, even if it did save her home.
"Well, I believe that takes care of that. Now we just have to expunge the traitor from your midst, and I'll be on my way, miss Vian. Bring those who were in charge of maintaining your sanctuary's protection to me, and I'll be able to determine who the culprit is in no time".
As he spoke, he made his way back to the great oak Larkan had pinned himself against and plopped himself down at its base, not even two feet away from the corpse. Vian, too stunned and speechless, found herself immediately locked in a staring contest with the wolfman's glassy stare, and she couldn't help but pity him as much as she resented him.
"Miss Vian?" Suzuki asked again, this time craning his neck to look at her.
The fairy princess—soon to be queen—finally shook her head, freeing herself from Larkan's final entrapment.
"A-ah!" she gasped, leaping off his shoulder: "R-right, of course… but really, you've already done more than enough so—"
Ainz raised a hand to silence her.
"Nonsense. I've offered you my aid, so I'll see things through until you are no longer in need of it. Besides, how long would it take you to root out the guilty on your own? Can you say with complete certainty that you would be able to do such a thing before another crisis like this can occur? While your front door is defenseless, you haven't the time to conduct a thorough investigation," Ainz reasoned.
"And you have something that can circumvent the need of an investigation? An item, or truth serum, perhaps?"
The Sorcerer King shook his head.
"No, nothing like that: I'm simply going to read their minds," he explained casually, folding his arms behind his head and leaning back comfortably.
"Aha… r-read their minds..? You can do such a thing..?" the fairy blinked confusedly, unsure whether he was joking or not: his stoic impression implied he wasn't and so, not wanting to question him and risk incurring his wrath, she quickly nodded and fluttered off.
"Understood, I'll have them rounded up and brought to you immediately!"
Ainz nodded and she flew off at breakneck speed.
Once she was out of sight, he closed his eyes and relaxed his face, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible and ignore the way all the other fairies were not-so-inconspicuously scrutinizing him from a distance and exchanging anxious whispers.
Uwahhh they're all terrified of me… Ainz thought, his face reddening and twitching ever so slightly as he repressed the idiosyncratic urge to cough awkwardly into his hand. Not that he could blame them, however: he had made quite the mess...
"Hahhh…"
He had allowed himself to get caught up in the moment and ended up overindulging the Sorcerer King: though he could not deny that it had felt good to let loose a bit like that. He was having fun as a dilettante of CQC, but magic-caster would always be his playstyle of choice. Even if he were given the choice to re-spec his character from scratch and re-allocate all of his exp. and skill points as often as he wanted at no penalty, he would end up choosing some variant of magic caster every time. It was just who he was.
Though if such an impossible opportunity were ever to arise, I might consider becoming like Ulbert-san, Suzuki thought to himself with a melancholic smile as he imagined himself casting [Grand Catastrophe] at the battle of Katze plains and wiping out almost the entire Re-estize army in one glorious flash of world-razing devastation.
"U-um!" a high-pitched voice suddenly squeaked, and Ainz opened a single eye in surprise. Fluttering about ten feet away—as close as the young boy, barely four inches tall with correspondingly immature-looking wings, was willing to get—was staring at him with a strangely determined look.
Ainz waited a few seconds for the boy to continue, but he never did.
"Er… what is it..?" he asked awkwardly.
"Are…" the boy began before trailing off immediately, though the resolute glimmer in his eyes never faltered.
"Are..?" Ainz repeated, a bit impatiently.
Is this kid on the spectrum or something..?
"Are you..! An aspect of Solis-sama?!" he finally managed to blurt out, raising and clenching his tiny eager fists just beneath his chin.
Ainz blinked confusedly.
"'Solis-sama'..? Who—"
"Sorcerer-dono!"
But before he could ask, Vian had returned with an entourage of knights surrounding a group of eight fairies, all clad in gaudy silk garments.
He looked back, but the peculiar boy had already flown off. He returned his attention to Vian.
"Is this all of them?" he inquired, nodding towards the group of pompous fairies eyeing him warily.
"Yes. Five of our illusory mages died during the attack, so these eight are all that remain".
"I see," Ainz began, rising from the ground while brushing his knees off: "and will you be able to manage from now on with only eight?"
Vian blinked in surprise but then smiled, her face reddening, surprised by the extent of this human sorcerer's compassion which continued to subvert her expectations. She was curious to hear what manner of solution he would offer if she said 'no', but to test him like that after everything he'd done would just be disrespectful.
"Y-yes, we should be fine. We have dozens of initiates who I'm sure, with their combined efforts, will be more than enough to replace the lives we lost…"
Ainz nodded and made his way over to the group of detained mages. They visibly recoiled at his approach, but the knights—rather hard to take seriously with their little sets of armor and weapons—barred their escape.
"R-really, Vian-sama, what's the meaning of this?!" an especially rotund fairy cried indignantly as the shadow of the human's hand loomed over him.
"Isn't it obvious, Bertel? He's going to determine which one of us betrayed the colony," another fairy next to him, with angular glasses behind which an even more pointed glare lurked, said matter-of-factly.
"Which one of us..?" Bertel repeated in shock, flinching as Ainz's finger tapped the top of his head: "b-b-but that's preposterous, Lumel! We've all dedicated our lives to mastering the magics necessary to keep everyone safe! As if any one of us would ever..! " he began to protest, clenching his eyes shut as he tried to wriggle away.
"And yet, there isn't really another possible explanation for what happened today, is there?" Vian interjected, flying in close with a stern expression. Bertel's throat lurched audibly.
"Please, Sorcerer-dono: proceed".
Ainz nodded and closed his eyes in concentration.
"[Alter Memory]".
...
"And this—"
WHAM!
"—is the last of today's paperwork".
Sebas eyed the nauseatingly thick dossier that Albedo had deposited on his desk with disdain.
"Let me guess… one of Demiurge's reports?" he asked wearily.
"Indeed," Albedo confirmed with a smile, and Sebas let out a prodigious sigh.
His head felt like it was about to implode, crammed as it was with all sorts of mind-melting political and economic jargon. It had only been three days since Ainz-sama left, and already the pen was beginning to feel like an unwieldy tool in his hand.
"Just as I suspected, I don't have an aptitude for stuff like this," he confessed defeatedly, pushing aside the pile of papers he had just been reviewing to make room for Demiurge's (excessively) comprehensive report.
"It can be overwhelming sometimes, but you'll get used to it soon enough," Albedo assured with a sympathetic smile as she reclaimed the fruits of his grueling labor thus far. Her citrine eyes began darting back and forth at an astounding rate as she started looking it over: one of her hands danced across the pages with a highlighter while the other flipped through them practically as fast as mechanically possible. It seemed impossible that anyone could internalize anything so quickly, yet the continuous morphing of her expression as she simultaneously noticed and remedied countless errors assured that she was. It was a mesmerizing spectacle.
"Is there an issue with that document, Sebas?" she asked without even looking up, having felt the weight of his unblinking gaze. Even as she spoke, her hands never faltered and continued to move at the same fervent pace.
Sebas awkwardly coughed into his hand.
"No, not at all. Forgive me, I didn't mean to stare: I was simply admiring your diligence. You really are incredible, Albedo-san. I don't know what I would do without you," he admitted with a smile, bowing his head slightly.
"..."
A wistful smile graced the overseer's lips—her eyes stopped scanning and her hands stopped moving, creating a jarring lull in her fastidious rhythm. For the first time this afternoon, the office was quiet and still, seeming almost eerie to Sebas, whose ears had become accustomed and perhaps even attached to the incessant susurration of papers and self-directed thoughts.
Before he could even attempt to interpret such a peculiar reaction, she glanced up furtively and met his eyes for the briefest of moments before looking back down with a melancholic laugh.
"Please don't get the wrong idea, I'm pleased to receive your gratitude and I'm happy to be of service. You just reminded me of Ainz-sama when you said that..." she trailed off, imbuing the curvature of her smile with an unmistakable conveyance of regretful longing.
Sebas nodded empathetically and shifted back in his seat, the same one Ainz himself had sat in countless times, doing the exact same insipid work he had been doing all day.
The last three days have felt especially long: the nights, unfathomably bleak, and restless. It was hard to describe, but, when Ainz-sama left, he took a piece of Nazarick with him: a massive, irreplaceable chunk, unseen yet vital. The hole it left was like a gaping wound, unmendable and exposed, bleeding insidiously: all anyone could do was trudge on with all the resilience they could muster and pray it didn't get infected—assuming it hadn't already.
Some might consider such a comparison a bit melodramatic, but that's just how much the denizens of Nazarick cherished their Supreme One. Ainz-sama's presence filled them with energy and purpose: his absence only sapped it all away.
Sebas had been doing his best to fill the void, but in the end… everyone, himself included, craved the Supreme One's return. Not wanting to appear dictatorial or divisive, he had refrained from relegating anyone (who might act on such desperation) to a tight leash—he was worried, of course, that someone like Demiurge or Albedo had already begun searching for Ainz-sama, but peace of mind was unattainable: there was simply no way to broach the topic without seeming distrustful.
By now Albedo had begun to busy herself with paperwork again, her expression turned stoic and serious once again. Sebas took this as a sign that she had consigned herself to the task at hand and figured he should do the same. He reluctantly reached out and drew the dreadful report closer to him, flipping the cover open with an unenthused flick. This was the last document of the day, at least, and he would finally be able to take some time off after this. He wanted to pay the Pleiades a visit and see how they were managing. After that, he had plans with Cocytus, and then… maybe he would spend some time with Tsuare. They could go for a walk outside or—
"Sebas," the overseer suddenly called out, surprising the butler with the sudden breach of what he thought had been a mutually established silence.
He tilted his head to the side curiously: "what is it, Albedo?"
He waited a few seconds, lazily scanning the first few lines of Demiurge's abstract—outlining a potential 'ethically-mandated reformation' of his happy farms, a task which the demon had accepted rather tepidly—while he waited for the overseer's question. He looked up, however, after he ended up reaching the end of the first page before another word had been uttered.
"Albedo?"
The overseer bit her lip, dithering plainly.
"No, it's just…" she began, though she faltered immediately. After drumming a frustrated beat against the desk with her pen, she let out a frustrated sigh and closed her eyes.
"N-nevermind, it's not important," she declared dismissively, cursing her stutter, before promptly returning to her work. She hunched farther over the desk, angling her head down so as to only afford the lord a view of the top of her head. Only then did she allow her self-frustrated embarrassment to show, bubble up to the surface and warm her cheeks with a rosy tinge.
What had come over her so suddenly? A solipsistic compulsion to confide in her subordinate-turned-ruler with a ridiculous sentiment she herself did not even fully understand? When had she become so debilitated, so vulnerable, that a single string of coincidentally reminiscent words could stir such a potent imbalance within her?
Sebas waited a few seconds to see if she would pick up where she left off, but she never did.
"Very well," he said with a slight frown.
He considered pressing her but quickly thought better of it. He was never one to pry, and Albedo was not an immature child whom he needed to coax into divulging what he presumed to be personal information. If she needed or wanted to tell him something, she would do so of her own accord when she was ready.
Until then though, he at least wanted her to know that he was available.
"But if you ever want to talk about anything, no matter how trivial, I'd be happy to lend an ear," he offered.
"I see, I'll be sure to keep that in mind, thank you," she assured with a dismissive nod, attempting to seem immersed in her work, desperate to conceal her embarrassment and allay his concern. Right now, she could find only humiliation in his thoughtfulness.
From that point on they worked in complete and—at least to Albedo—suffocating silence until it was time to leave.
"Why don't you take the rest of the evening off?" Sebas had suggested upon handing her Demiurge's portfolio, once they were wrapping things up: "you're working too hard, which I know is largely on account of my own ineptitude," he went on solicitously—deftly flipping the fault on himself, Albedo recognized, out of consideration for her pride—yet another thing Ainz-sama would do on a regular basis.
It was as infuriating as it was appreciated.
"Sebas, I—" she began, a bit irately, but the king raised a gloved hand to silence her protest.
"Either way—and I'm sure the supreme one would agree—it's important to take breaks and set aside some time for yourself. I know that's a bit hypocritical coming from me, but now that I'm the one sitting on the throne, watching countless others devote themselves to my interests… well, let's just say I've realized that there's some truth behind the supreme one's magnanimous philosophies".
"Thank you, but I have some other matters that must be attended to as soon as possible," she explained, perhaps a bit too adamantly, as she rose from her chair.
Sebas let out an awkward chuckle of capitulation, reminding her of the supreme one for the umpteenth time. It was uncanny, really, how well—unwittingly or not, she could not tell—Sebas was emulating him at times.
She needed to get away.
"Please excuse me, Sebas-dono," she said, offering a hasty yet elegant bow.
Sebas nodded.
"I understand. Thanks for your help today, Albedo-san: let's continue working hard to create a Nazarick to which Ainz-sama can return and be proud of," he called out to her as she had ducked out of the office.
...
Now, Albedo had fully intended to abide by her own words and return to her private quarters to file the paperwork they had just finished: so imagine her surprise when, not ten minutes after leaving the office, for better or for worse, she found herself on the fringe of Nazarick's extravagant bathhouse.
"..."
Biting her lower lip, she took a tentative step inside the changing room, peeking around the corner to confirm what was already an assured vacancy.
She stood in the center of the room, apprehensively eyeing the short adjoining hallway which fed into the open bath, for several minutes before finally, with a self-loathing huff, she began to strip, shooting nervous looks over her shoulder as she did. Each article of clothing removed added yet another layer of diffidence to her bareness. When she was done, she stowed her garments in one of the honeycomb cubbies, a neat pile tucked shamefully away in the bottom right corner, least likely to be noticed by any (of the nonexistent) prying eyes.
She wrapped her arms around herself, covering her chest, rubbing her upper arms, feeling wholly and uncharacteristically uncomfortable with her nakedness. Well, perhaps it wasn't so much the exposure that disconcerted her, but rather the feeling that someone might catch her slacking off.
Why was she here? Was this not a monumental waste of time? Now was not the time for indolence.
But even as she scolded herself, she had already emerged from the changing room and into the bath, the sheer vastness of which only served to disperse her conflicted thoughts and exacerbate her self-consciousness.
The air was dense, laden with a sticky and oppressive humidity that clung to her, every inch of her already-glistening body, like an extra layer of skin, impermeable to oxygen. She could feel the pores of her suffocating skin opening up like millions of microscopic, tract-less mouths, desperate for a gulp of fresh air. Her throat loosened up in response to the heat, and each stuffy breath of ersatz air left her lungs unsatisfied.
Was the heat usually so overbearing..? She didn't remember it being this stifling the last and only other time she had come here, with Shalltear and Aura.
She shifted anxiously from foot to foot, acutely aware of the beads of molten sweat trickling down her forehead, chest, back, and thighs.
She eyed the pool of steaming, babbling water, seeming more and more enticing to her clammy body with each passing second.
"..."
Well, she thought to herself: I'm all sticky now… I suppose there's just no helping it then. I'll take a quick dip: five minutes, in and out. Then I'll get right back to work, clean and refreshed.
With that rationalization in mind, she drew in a deep and gratifying breath, her tempered lungs having already acclimated to the unaccommodating air, and approached the bath, pausing to study her reflection in the rippling mirror below: the humid and clean air had imbued her porcelain complexion with a healthy glow, and enhanced the natural sheen of her silky black hair. She brought her hands up to cup her flushed cheeks, warm to the touch like soft hot stones.
She took a deep breath and was about to dip a foot into the water when something in the corner of her vision caught her attention—right at the edge of the bamboo divider that separated this bath section from the neighboring jungle-themed area was a pile of neatly folded clothing beside an unused towel.
Specifically, it was a maid uniform, and from its unique design and accompanying hat, there was no mistaking who it belonged to.
...
A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Next time: the resolution of Ainz's encounter with the fairies, and an awkward encounter between Albedo and Lupusregina (and maybe a look at Neia, depending on how long those two parts take). Stay tuned, friends. See you in ~2-3 weeks.
Incidentally, to those of you who are curious, Vian and Ivan are anagrams of everyone's favorite nuisance from the Legend of Zelda, Navi :p.