Volume 3
Legacy of the Undead
Prologue
Part 1
A colossal golden eye blinked heavily, followed by the proportionately massive head rising to look towards an archway to his side.
Behind it hid a teleportation formation, keyed to only accept a handful of individuals, yet it now began to glow a vivid white. He watched with interest, still uncertain as to its exact identity as the figure solidified into something identifiable.
The eye widens once as he first recognizes the form, before narrowing in suspicion.
"… Yours is certainly an unexpected visit. Are you still here as a companion, or…"
His deep, heavy voice echoed around the room, trailing off into an unstated threat as he stood up to face the girl.
"As if I would be stupid enough to come here if I weren't. It has been a while, Tsar."
Her reply was clear and confident, light and joking. Though facing a dragon twenty times her height, she walked forward without caring, evidently not expecting any follow-through to his words.
"Yes, so it has, Inberun. Forty years, was it?" (Tsar)
"Forty-three. Have you been asleep so long that you lost count?" (Keeno)
"Haha, that may be." (Tsar)
The dragon's throaty laugh resonated throughout the chamber.
"At least until you three interrupt my rest." (Tsar)
"I didn't think you'd get old, but it seems I was wrong. Who else has time to come all the way out here, anyway? Granny I can understand, but who's the third?" (Keeno)
"Azuth. You know him as well, don't you?" (Tsar)
"Ah. That man, huh? While he is capable of traveling out here, I have to wonder why you still associate with him…" (Keeno)
"Reliable collaborators – or even just useful ones – are few and far between…" (Tsar)
Tsar paused and breathed out a derisive snort after his sentence before continuing.
"… Besides, if we are to speak of associates, are you one to say anything, Inberun? You went and lost your mask, are you going by Keeno now?" (Tsar)
"Stop it, you old bastard, hearing that from you is just creepy. What do you care who I do business with, demons or otherwise?" (Keeno)
"Were it truly simple business I would not, however when you go so far as to war against the Theocracy, it leads me to question your allegiance." (Tsar)
She shrugged back. "Not like anybody liked them. I'd wager you were there to observe those battles, and didn't even bother to interfere to save them." (Keeno)
"I won't deny it… my presence there would have caused no end of issues were I to be revealed." (Tsar)
"Is that so? At the time I thought you might step in, even if you do hate them, but I suppose there's no need to interfere with your enemies killing each other off?" (Keeno)
"Indeed…" Tsar gave a solemn nod. "I was prepared to see much of that city sacrificed if that was what it cost to see how far the Sorcerer King would be willing to go." (Tsar)
"Undead or not, they understand full well the repercussions of destroying entire cities of civilians." (Keeno)
"… I wonder about that. For all we know it was simply your demon's prudence, or a whim to spare the city. Her using that spell, the Sorcerer King's arrival, and their sudden withdrawal, it feels as though we are missing a critical piece to this entire puzzle." (Tsar)
Keeno listened with interest.
"You knew about that magic? Just what was that? I've never heard of an individual spending over an hour to use one spell, was that perhaps something like the Theocracy's ritual magic, used to reach the 10th tier?" (Keeno)
"No, 10th tier magic is powerful, but nowhere near so grandiose. What the demon used was something different entirely, something the Players call 'Super-tier Magic'… no, that is not correct either." (Tsar)
He paused to think, trying to organize the history he knew with the facts he heard into a cohesive theory.
"To be precise, the spell the Sorcerer King used against the Kingdom's army should be Super-tier Magic. Though that precise magic is not one I had seen before, the accounts of that battle are close enough to my memories of the Six Gods and Eight Greed Kings' magic for me to say this with near certainty…" (Tsar)
Again he trailed off, carefully considering his conclusion before speaking.
"… but that was always cast within a few minutes, no longer. Never an hour, certainly. The appearance is eerily similar, too, so if forced to say, I would call it degenerated Super-tier Magic." (Tsar)
"Hm… and here I was being proud of finally reaching the 6th tier… to think there was so much more depth to master." (Keeno)
"Hoh, so you did? That is certainly worthy of congratulation. Few beings ever reach that level by their own power, even if you include elder beings such as dragons. Alas, sorry to break it to you, but Super-tier Magic is something exclusive to Players, not something another can ever learn. Not even we Dragon Lords were ever successful in emulating it, no matter what we tried." (Tsar)
"Is that really the case, though? According to the person in question, she really was a human before becoming a demon, not a Player. Doesn't that mean she did what you couldn't?" (Keeno)
Keeno tried to question Tsar's conclusion, but he simply shook his head.
"That simply isn't possible. Back in the day, Elim and I spent decades trying to understand the magic of the original Six Gods, yet we failed to so much as make progress. Her doing so in a couple years is ridiculous, compared to the simple explanation that you were lied to. As well, going by what the Leader said, there were occasionally children who could lead guilds in YGGDRASIL, the possibility is there. Yes, that demon should be a Player from the Sorcerer King's guild." (Tsar)
"If you say so…" (Keeno)
To her, it seemed there were at least a couple holes in his logic, but there wasn't much to gain by arguing with him over a topic he knew so much more about than her. She had certainly spoken to the Leader a good deal as well, but the topic of Players rarely came up.
In that party, everybody had their own secrets to keep. Nobody wished to be the one causing discord by digging into others' pasts.
On the other hand, he probably spoke at least a little to the various Players around the world over the centuries. It was obvious which of them had a better understanding of the mysterious race. Even still, his reasoning didn't sound quite right to her.
"… This is troubling. All our assumptions up until now were based on a single Player this century, not two. Every plan from start to finish will need to be revised." (Tsar)
"Oh? Is that why you started taking out old threats?" (Keeno)
When she tried to change the subject, he simply looked confused.
"What are you referring to? Did Rigrit mention something?" (Tsar)
"Yeah, long ago, I heard the history from her. You hated him, he threatened you, even back then you were on the verge of starting a fight. But really, destroying half the entire city just to get back at him?" (Keeno)
"Hm, wait, Elves? What is this about?" (Tsar)
"Don't deny it. I flew over and saw the crater myself, it's pretty obvious, and all the elves know it too. Nobody else could possibly have caused that much damage with one attack. You took it too far…" (Keeno)
"Stop, stop, stop! Inberun, what are you talking about? Start from the beginning!"
Tsar charged forward, shouting, causing Keeno to inadvertently back up several steps in response.
"No, like I said, there's no point playing dumb. The very same Elf King you always fought against, who next to nobody still living has spoken to, just happens to get killed exactly when you start thinking of the Sorcerous Kingdom as a threat? Is there anybody else would bother with somebody like that?" (Keeno)
As she explained, he stopped, stunned.
"… Ridiculous. I have done no such thing. Who would believe such nonsense?" (Tsar)
"An entire species already does, and they're spreading the story. Unless you have a better explanation?" (Keeno)
"Considering the timing, it must be the Sorcerous Kingdom, beyond a doubt. There should exist powerful items from YGGDRASIL beyond our knowledge, with enough power to match anything I could perform." (Tsar)
"So, it was done by a country which has no contact with the elf kingdom, by one of two individuals a country or two away, using an item which only exists as long as you imagine it to be convenient… I'm afraid I will have to go with the simple explanation that you are responsible, as will the warring elves marching towards you, I suspect." (Keeno)
"… Are you serious?" (Tsar)
"Completely. I wouldn't be surprised to see the Council consider revoking your seat once the news reaches them." (Keeno)
Hearing those words from Keeno was enough to make Tsar freeze in place, shocked at the level of distrust he had not expected to hear.
"… Hmph. So no matter how many centuries I spent as their guardian, still they would jump at the first opportunity to see me dethroned?" (Tsar)
"Well, if you take care of any threats before they appear, then to the people you're indistinguishable from a worthless statue. All the power you might have is worse than useless when they only see you as unstable." (Keeno)
Tsar laughed back.
"That was unexpected. I hadn't taken you as a student of philosophy… or anything unrelated to magic, really." (Tsar)
"You're meant to say that as being 'dedicated to one's specialty', you inconsiderate suit of armor." (Keeno)
Keeno shot back with her own mockery, despite not denying the meaning behind his claim.
Grudges of the past did not disappear merely with the passage of a few decades.
"-But really, the opportunity to discuss philosophy with a demon is rare enough, did you think I would miss it?" (Keeno)
"No, I don't suppose you would. Our Leader, too, always had some interesting ideas about the world. Nonetheless, getting involved with them any more than you already have is exceedingly dangerous. When the time comes, would you be able to fight them once again?" (Tsar)
"Fight against them? Forget about it." (Keeno)
"Even you? So the trust of companions only goes so far…" (Tsar)
"Trust won't help anybody jump into an active volcano. Let alone just one of those two, include Momon-sama or Albedo and I'm not convinced you could win. Just leave it alone." (Keeno)
"Unfortunately, it is clear enough that they are evil in nature. Sooner or later, they will bring harm to this world, and then, our conflict is inevitable." (Tsar)
"Then deal with it yourself. Call it the Balance of the World or what you want, it's not my concern." (Keeno)
She turned around and started walking back towards the archway from where she had entered. Hearing Tsar's stubbornness was disappointing, but hardly unexpected.
"You reap the benefits yet disappear as soon as you're needed. Did you come with no intention of assisting, or even negotiating?" (Tsar)
Tsar called after her, his voice sinking to a low growl.
"You want to negotiate? Fine, get me the Nameless Spellbook and I'll consider it." (Keeno)
Yelling this back, Keeno continued to walk without stopping.
Obviously, she was not making a serious offer. It was doubtless possible for somebody with his nature to retrieve the spellbook, yet he had refused to do so on multiple occasions in the past. Its power beyond mortal comprehension, there wasn't the slightest chance he would risk releasing it into the open world, no matter how much he might have trusted her.
"Foolish. Those items are beyond what any single being can handle, whether you or the Sorcerer King. Simply possessing one is enough to distort the laws of the universe." (Tsar)
"So you say, and there's your answer. Get yourself killed if you must, leave me out of it." (Keeno)
"Wait." (Tsar)
Now nearly past the boundary and out of the room, she paused and glanced back.
"Do you still need something?" (Keeno)
"In the Kingdom, there should have been a ring and a sword of some value. I'm sure you know to which I am referring. Where are they now?" (Tsar)
"The Princess surrendered the sword over to the Sorcerous Kingdom, I haven't followed it after that. As for the ring… she probably still has it, but hell if I know where she is hiding out now." (Keeno)
"… I see. A loss, but not the worst possible outcome." (Tsar)
"What does it matter? It's just a sword, I'm sure they have their own equipment already without needing to loot it from elsewhere." (Keeno)
"There exist a number of unique relics, created using magic which has since been twisted beyond recreation… but, so long as their true worth is unknown, they should remain harmless… very well, forget I ever mentioned the topic…" (Tsar)
Although his musing continued after that, Keeno saw no further use listening to him rambling. Since staying near him any further would only make it more likely for him to try forcing some unreasonable demand onto her, she instead chose to simply walk out.
The very same flash of teleportation magic which signaled her arrival, now once again marked her departure from the chamber.
"… I will recover them myself, before long." (Tsar)
His last sentence finished only after she had vacated the room.
He took the chance to stand up straight, stretching out his vast wings to their full, majestic span, reflecting light throughout the room in a haphazard manner.
As he did this, he began to speak again.
"What do you make of her now, Azuth?" (Tsar)
The crimson form of the armor appeared behind him, having dispelled the high-level invisibility spell stored in the suit.
"Let's leave her be. Trying to convince that girl over isn't going to be possible, but as long as she wants to play at neutrality, let's let her. Her choice won't matter in the long run." (Azuth)
"How unexpectedly cordial, coming from you." (Tsar)
"I hadn't expected you to be the type to shelter undead, though now I see that I should have put two and two together. Either way, I can put her off until later, now is not the time for making more enemies." (Azuth)
"I had a similar thought, but was concerned that they were tainted by my memories of the past. Besides, the confidence she has in her trump-card is genuine. Were she to accept abandoning her own life to strike at us, even I might be injured… but again, this is besides the point. Did you hear where they will go from here?" (Tsar)
"Of course I have. Though it's just something I overheard, they're going to be sending some kind of expedition south, across the desert. If they're nice enough to split off their forces to let us hunt them, who are we to turn down their offer? Getting the undead boss himself can wait until after that, and the rest will scatter once the head is gone." (Azuth)
"Haha, it's always useful to have you keeping an eye out on them. Let's hear about this expedition, shall we…?" (Tsar)
Part 2
"Demiurge-sama, could we please just not do this?" (Tanya)
Tanya was forced to repeat this one line, which gave her an acute sense of deja-vu, though it occurred to her that since she had in fact been placed in the same situation once before.
Certainly, the individuals involved in the experimentation had all been switched around, but the end result was an eerily similar position. This time, instead of the certifiably insane mad scientist doctor, it was the demonically rational – or so she had believed – Demiurge who was giving her the lines she least wanted to hear.
"Every mechanism is complete. You, Pandora's Actor, and I have each independently verified the theoretical solution will work. So, why do you continue to object against putting it to use in a practical experiment?"
"You just explained the reason yourself, these are theoretical solutions, theoretical. The computation orb is a spare which hasn't received proper maintenance in months. The initialization machines are untested, makeshift engines hacked together from memory. The would-be user only received a rough memory transfer of the operations manual, instead of two years of training, minimum. We've piled up instability upon instability upon instability, and you question why I'm concerned with a lack of stability?" (Tanya)
"-Therefore success would require absolute perfect control, I am well aware. There is no issue. Do you seriously believe that one created by the most precise of the Supreme Beings would fail such a simple task?" (Demiurge)
His continued assurance made Tanya want to cry out. He may as well have been preaching the name of Being X, so certain were the NPCs of Nazarick in their creators that being precise enough to thread a sewing needle using a container crane was automatically assumed to be within their capabilities.
With that having been said, his assurance was nothing like Schugel's, coming in out of nowhere to ruin her day. Given the superhuman results they were capable of producing, it might even be more reasonable to consider his extreme confidence to be justified, her caution needless paranoia.
Demiurge had, after all, been created to serve as a defensive commander, and accordingly should possess a vastly more accurate understanding of each member's abilities than her own subjective knowledge of the matter.
If he was willing to assert that this perfection was achievable, then perhaps that conclusion could be trusted. The experimental subject given the responsibility of achieving perfection in this case was not actually her, but rather the automaton, CZ Delta, who had – theoretically – received all the technical expertise necessary – delivered by her literally providing the required memories using repeated applications of [Control Amnesia].
Assuming that training had stuck, she was reasonably confident in the assertion that CZ was more than capable of performing the complex calculations required to use a computation orb, likely even better than she could at the time. Adding to that, while using one was by no means simple, even a poorly maintained Type-97 was markedly more stable than Schugel's eternally defective Type-95.
Back then, she may have only succeeded in stabilizing the orb because of Being X's interference, but that wasn't to say somebody more capable than her couldn't possibly succeed. According to their calculations, the theoretical specs of the dual-core Type-97 are just barely sufficient to perform mana fixation and materialize actual magic – though the margin of error was so small that success might well be more difficult than with the damned Type-95.
On the other hand, the energy levels they were playing around with were only slightly less than the time the mad scientist had forced her into the trap of an experiment, easily more than enough to flatten their testing grounds were anything to go wrong – and given that the majority of their precision machinery was handcrafted and makeshift, she would be hard-pressed to come up with an even more obvious way to tempt Murphy.
Tanya already knew from experience than were Murphy to be sufficiently angered, his law would be enforced, more surely and swiftly than any other law, be it mortal or divine, quite possibly taking the form of immediate vaporization if her defenses proved lacking.
Admittedly, she would likely object to proceeding with the experiment even in ideal circumstances, knowing the risks involved, plus the fact that she would not personally benefit from its success. No matter how much an expert might assure her that a landmine was inert, she wouldn't want to be the one to test their assertion, certainly not for minimum wage.
Unfortunately, the terms of her continued employment didn't exactly offer her much room to refuse to continue, not unless she could refute Demiurge's assertion by demonstrating the task to be impossible, itself a devil's proof unless the experiment were to be run first.
Basically, she could either proceed with trying to guide CZ through activating the orb and hope it didn't end with them collectively being blown up along with half of the 8th floor of the tomb, or she could abandon Nazarick, flee, and try to escape to somewhere safe on her own. Technically an option available to her, though not a particularly good one. No, this wasn't her hill to die on.
With so many other unreasonable orders, it was more a question of how to let it fail while avoiding responsibility than trying to somehow mold the impossible into a passable success. However, right now she was to take part in what was supposed to fit within her specialization.
Worse, her spare Type-97 was one-of-a-kind, meaning that a single catastrophic failure would immediately mark the end of their efforts, turning the previous month into nothing more than sunk cost. Were that to happen, Demiurge would almost certainly insist on collective responsibility for the failure, a black mark for each of them, instead of allowing any one of them to escape their share of the blame.
Even still, the looming possibility of death was generally enough to outweigh any other demerit she might be threatened with. For so long as the ability to resurrect Players is not empirically demonstrated to be possible, she must continue to assume death is truly final – and even that is working under the questionable assumption that her irregular arrival into this world qualifies her as one.
She should logically commit fully to the experiment in order to give it the best odds of success, yet she should also logically withdraw from the experiment in the event of an accident to preserve her own life.
The contradiction of motivation continued to repeat in Tanya's mind, jumping from one conclusion to the other even as she tried to maintain a straight face in front of Demiurge. Though more likely than not, his presence here was enough indication that he already understood her thought process.
Somehow, the devil had the uncanny ability to always know exactly whenever her interests started to deviate even slightly from the greater good of Nazarick, and would immediately appear to 'encourage' her to correct her actions without the need to say a word.
Still suppressing her sigh, she spoke up after a brief delay.
"… I wouldn't move forward without a contingency plan even if your creator personally came down to help." (Tanya)
"Surely you of all people could keep the situation under control." (Demiurge)
Despite having the most reactive of all managers, there was usually far less danger to the job, compared to even the most mundane of military assignments. Even now, for all her mental complaining, the task was still safer than last time, since this time, she was not the one with a bomb strapped to her in the name of science, merely an observer.
First it had been mere calculations, then research and development, eventually training, and finally the actual mana fixation experiment. Her objective had gradually been shifted towards the difficult and dangerous, yet even after she had noticed where the task would inevitably be going, enough was already invested that her complaining over minor increments would have made her the unreasonable one.
For as much as she might strive to be the sort of leader who can pull the most value out of the human capital available to her, actually working under a manager capable of doing so left her feeling like she was being pressed into a corner with every passing day.
At the end of the day, she had only one meaningful choice as long as it remained in her best interest to ever advance her position. She relented, the pent-up sigh slipping out as she accepted the inevitable.
"Understood. Then, if you are aware of the risks involved, there is no point to delaying further. Begin final systems check." (Tanya)
Tanya called out, though of course Demiurge himself didn't move. He was only here to observe, not to act as her assistant.
Instead she took a step forward to personally look over the control equipment. She tried looking for the slightest imperfection, the smallest defect, even a single grain of dust out of place she might be able to find issue with, but everything was in order.
Though the machine had been set up outside in the middle of a vast clearing, not a single speck of dirt or sand had blown onto it. For the past week, the entire floor's weather had been adjusted to her specifications – her request, which she had made assuming it would be unreasonable, thinking that the non-ideal conditions could excuse cancelling the entire project – yet now the air was that of a cleanroom, the very wind suspended until further notice.
Of course, such was the power of the guildmaster in his own base. There wasn't the slightest issue even after several days of exposure which she might point to, ruining any chance she might have had to delay further.
Though in reality, if the Americans wouldn't listen to their own engineers' warnings to delay a doomed space shuttle launch, any petty flaws she might bring up were unlikely to get any traction.
Looking up over to CZ, she nodded to confirm her own preparation.
"… No issues. Ready for connection." (CZ)
The slight hope that her old orb might have acquired some critical fault over the years, but of course, Schugel's engineering chose now of all times to work reliably. With that observation, her last hope of backing out vanished like smoke.
This was the point of no return.
"Initializing secondary mana supply." (Tanya)
Tanya pushed the proverbial big red button to begin piping power through to the orb. She had spent a considerable amount of time filling it with hundreds of shards of solidified mana herself, each of which could power a common artillery formula if released explosively. In total, the sum of energy available would be more than enough to succeed even without the cheat of the Type-95 – theoretically.
"… Supplying mana." (CZ)
Immediately, the small computation orb in CZ's hand expelled a bright flash.
The simple fact that it did not burst into flames or explode immediately was a good start. It was after all necessary to feed energy into the orb with nearly twice the rated bandwidth limit, bypassing several safety gates in the process.
Once the mana fixation succeeded once, doing so again with the same cores would be infinitely easier from the second time onward. Like crystals growing off a sliver of a seed, mana liked mana.
Of course, that initial success required a miracle-
"… Energy at 142% nominal. All cores stable." (CZ)
-And surprisingly, she really was reaching the needed value without losing stability, even if only by a few percent above the theoretical minimum.
For a second, the possibility that this might actually work wormed its way into Tanya's head.
Just because it didn't work as the unwilling collaborative work of a little girl and a mad scientist, didn't necessarily mean a similar problem couldn't be solved by an automaton plus a couple demons.
"… Coupled resonance growing out of control. Losing stability." (CZ)
Unfortunately, that delusion really did only last for a few moments.
The flow of mana merging into the orb quickly grew both more potent and violent.
Looking from the outside, Tanya was able to watch serenely as the mana radiating into the air slowly devolved into a maelstrom of leaking energy. She at least had the freedom to watch it in fine detail, the skills available to her already twisting her perception of time into a perpetual adrenaline-high-like dilation.
She calmly considered the cause for the sudden breakdown, the mismatch between the mana signature imprinted from the years she had used the orb, and the ones from CZ, who was currently trying to force into it.
In hindsight, it was an obvious issue. Mages getting used to their personal orb – and conversely hating to use another mage's orb – did not do so out of mere superstition. Like a rough stone eroded by a stream, the jewel core itself would gradually be worn down into a form best fitting that mage's individual mana signature.
Normally this was a nuisance at worst, but since they were currently working with an abnormally large pool of energy, it had evidently become a crippling issue, introducing chaos into the fine mana streams, tearing apart the core in the process.
There was a beauty to the discord as the leaking magic exhibited a perfect interference pattern.
With the pattern clearly visible, it might even be possible to invert the result and stabilize it by adding her own destructive interference, but accurately doing so would cost her a couple minutes.
From the exponentially growing amplitude, the orb would last a few seconds at most before the now-inevitable disaster.
Cruel as it may be to the other two, it was necessary for Tanya to prioritize her own protection.
Even if it was disappointing to learn the solution, only for it to be ever so slightly out of reach.
No, if time is the only missing piece-
Instantly, she sunk the world into a still, quiet gray with a [Silent Time Stop].
Though there was a corresponding cost in magic, just the couple seconds that speaking the incantation would require were too precious to waste.
"What are you planning on doing now…?" (Demiurge)
Demiurge, unaffected by her time manipulation on account of his skills, muttered a question, but found himself ignored. It was rude, Tanya knew, but if she didn't have time to waste on incantations, neither did she have the time for pleasantries.
Disregarding her surroundings, Tanya leapt forward and set to work on correcting the instability.
It was much like forging a mana signature for covert operations, albeit three orders of magnitude more precise.
Just as predicted, the half-minute offered by stopping time with magic was nowhere near enough to finish.
"Single Magic Seal, Release."
A couple seconds before running out, she commanded a marge magic circle to appear, which formed and disappeared without any visible effect.
To one capable of visualizing the distribution of mana in space, nothing could be further from the truth. From the apparently inept magic circle, a vast pool of magic flowed out, ready for her use.
Where the Spell-Sealing Crystal was allowed to store any spell, up to and including extremely expensive resurrection magic, magic seals were only permitted to store regular attack magic, and had an appropriately smaller capacity. Despite that distinction, the same trick could be applied to either.
Though the volume of mana stored was indeed much smaller, it had the advantage of being far more easily malleable, on account of the energy not being stored with a density that caused it to collapse and explode the very instant it was set free.
Adding the fact that even the smaller amount of magic which a single seal could store was comparable to the entirety of her own mana pool, it was a useful trick to add to her growing arsenal. Though, looking at it objectively, her entire pool plus the full three seals were still less that half of Ainz's base MP. Such was the nature of levels.
In the few moments before time ran out and resumed, Tanya formed the cloud of loose magic into a new formula. Then, only a fraction of a second after time began to flow, she froze it again. CZ was barely given a chance to move a few millimeters as Tanya bought herself more time.
Precise as the timing may be, it was nothing to the girl with a magic computer embedded into her head. However, even if somebody like Ainz could perfectly delay his own casting, it would still not be possible for him to reproduce this. After all, a spell would have a recast time, and [Time Stop] was certainly no exception.
It was only by exploiting yet another vulnerability in the magic system – a duplicate formula simply not being recognized as cast by her – that she was able to repeatedly cast the same magic. So numerous were the issues in the YGGDRASIL system in this world, as Ainz called it, that Tanya had to wonder whether they were left in intentionally, but that was neither here nor there.
Most surprised of all was Demiurge, who watched, wide-eyed, as she effortlessly violated what he considered to be a fundamental law of magic.
All the while, she continued to devote her focus exclusively on the formula she had been weaving, taking no note of Demiurge as she revealed what had until then been an ability kept under wraps as an emergency measure.
Yet, he said nothing and only continued to observe. If she was so absorbed in magic that she forgot about his presence and revealed one of her hidden cards, there was nothing for him to ask here. It was a topic which passed beyond his own responsibility, an issue which he would need to bring up directly with Ainz.
She promptly got back to working on the orb, yet the time available to her felt irritatingly short. With even the slightest misalignment potentially resonating until it led to a collapse, there was no room for error, but more haste often made for less speed.
So she repeated the process with a second seal.
Then a third.
Each passing second brought her closer and closer to completion, yet as the last of her time ticked away, it became increasingly clear that the end would remain only barely out of her reach.
With her stored seals exhausted, stopping time a fifth time would completely exhaust her own internal mana, to the point where let alone shielding herself against an explosion at point-blank range, even escaping to a safe distance with short-range teleportation would no longer be possible.
It was far too risky a prospect to consider betting her life on nothing further going wrong.
Except, she hesitated.
When did I start trying so hard to escape doing work?
For the fifth time, she drew the magic formula, this time draining the required magic power from her own cells. Once again, the world returned to gray.
In doing so, exhaustion immediately washing over her, the magic already invested into her formula plus the spell she had just cast bringing her nearly to depletion.
Still, she continued working, ever so close to finishing successfully.
Second after precious passing second.
Even as the pain from overdrawing her magic set in, when her remaining time could be counted with just the fingers on her two hands, she continued meticulously etching away, to smooth out the thousandth of a percent error which nonetheless fell outside her tolerance.
It was remarkably convenient then, that her day job up until then had prepared her for working under extreme pressure as well as it had, lest she freeze up at the realization that her current job performance may have fatal repercussions within the next few seconds.
And then, it clicked.
Her finished formula, aligned to the exact inverse of the distortion, without the slightest imperfection. She was even left with a couple seconds to check and admire her work.
When next time returned to the world, she cast her enchantment onto the computation orb, before promptly collapsing to her knees.
Like a project which had forgotten its allotted budget, she had shot right past exhausting the mana available to her and began sucking it straight out of her cells.
She was left feeling like her breath had been taken away from a long sprint, then continued to suffocate, unable to relieve her burden.
Despite all that, the unmitigated pain somehow felt better than the alternative, the mental corruption and strange fervor from Being X's curse on her old Type-95.
Tanya took in a deep breath, then let it out. Even if her body no longer required respiration for survival, the old habit survived, and still helped to wind down from the tension. She watched the chaotic mess dissipate, with smooth, harmonic waves taking their place.
"-Even I can do this much, you worthless self-proclaimed god." (Tanya)
Even if it had left her completely empty, she had succeeded.
Even if they were working with a more refined orb with two cores instead of four, they had succeeded.
"… Nn, thank you." (CZ)
CZ, for her part, picked up on the change and used it to correct her course immediately.
Meanwhile, Demiurge simply nodded with an inscrutable smile.
"So you can see, a flawless success." (Demiurge)
Tanya let out a painful chuckle.
The calculated certainty with which he made his assertion was somehow no less irritating than hearing the same assertion from Schugel, no matter how different the basis for their confidence might have been.
As if her ability to save the situation was within his estimation.
As if her choice to not flee had already been predicted.
Frustratingly, the conclusion proved his correctness.
For the sake of form, Tanya appended his name to the long list of people deserving of a punch, but that could wait until she was in a proper state.
The combat maid as well would need training and experience to properly calibrate for the differences between the memories of its function planted into her, and the real version, but for the moment, it did not seem like the role of instructor would fall to Tanya.
In other words, the list of tasks officially assigned to her had been exhausted, for now at least. Just as long as she moved outside messaging range before another could be provided. Based on Demiurge's gaze, that would be better sooner than later.
Her leave had been approved.
Part 3
The fifth floor of the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick: The Glacier.
Coating every square meter of the ground was brilliant white snow, shining from the reflection of the artificial sun in the ceiling, which would concentrate light to the point of becoming nearly blinding, yet did so without carrying any heat at all.
Scattered around them were titanic blue crystals of magical ice, so pure that they were nearly transparent, except for the slight fog which would slightly refract the scenery behind them, altogether creating a mythical environment.
It made for an incredible, picturesque scene of blue and white, for those few who could watch it without their very eyeballs freezing over from the frigid blizzard permanently covering the terrain.
For Tanya, this meant that despite receiving bonuses to elemental cold resistance from a couple pieces of her equipment, on top of her weak racial resistance, she could still clearly feel the sharp prickling of winter against her skin.
Thankfully, it was only to the extent of mild irritation, and could be entirely negated with the same sort of formula commonly used by mages managing their body temperature for high-altitude flight.
Simply by breathing out, the moisture would instantly crystallize even before it passed fully out of her mouth. Winter in the Federation may have been cold, but it certainly couldn't begin to compare to this magically-induced chill, which easily trumped even the coldest antarctic frost.
For the moment, she was neither on the clock working, nor in a particular rush, so she was more than willing to take the scenic route through the skies, slowly drifting around to take in the scenery created by Ainz's environmentally-minded colleagues.
Tanya had never understood the reason people would invest so many hundreds of hours over a number of years into perfecting how one appears in a game, disjoint from anything which might help advance one's position in life.
Maybe they found satisfaction in sharing their work like artists in any other medium… or perhaps the future they had lived in was simply so devoid of creative opportunities in work and instead flocked to games which did provide them. Having only heard a little from Ainz about his guildmates – and the sort of reality they had lived in – she had insufficient information to speculate about their motivations.
In spite of that, the end result of their work which she saw before her was undeniably impressive. Whether it was the detail of the environment in each level, or the depth of each NPC's personal character, actually seeing it expressed in reality would leave an impression any anybody who witnessed it, not just the artists themselves.
Once again, Tanya found herself grateful to possess the ability of flight. While much of the wonder had been lost due to several years of wartime mentally linking flying to being shot at, having the freedom to simply fly and admire sights like this brought a bit of color back to her view on the subject.
It was no small wonder then, that flight had been a shared dream of humanity for millennia. The beauty of nature – or an artificial vista, in this case – somehow seemed much more incredible from above.
However, her primary purpose in coming to this floor was not sightseeing.
She approached the large building at the center of the floor, the fortress of stone and ice – The Frozen Prison – before touching down a short distance from its main entrance.
Her feet stopped on the hard snow, which neither cracked nor sunk despite her landing being on the rougher side, as if stone or concrete rather than the fluffy carpet it looked to be from above.
A number of beings made the fifth floor their residence.
There was of course the master of the floor, Cocytus, from whom she had on occasion learned a bit about how to properly make use of a sword or spear. He was more than willing to offer his aid when asked and time permitted, though almost immediately followed up by recognizing that she had little in the way of talent for those weapons.
In essence, it would require prohibitive amount of training to get her to a level of skill where proper technique would be more effective than simple magic-enhanced brute force as she had been using up to that point. As such, the study which began with one session ended on that very same day.
Next in the order of the 5th floor's residents would be be Nigredo, with whom Tanya similarly did not want to meet.
The first time the two were introduced, Tanya's utter lack of reaction both surprised and disappointed Ainz, who had been hoping to see her share his own reaction the first time he had seen the character, that is to say one of abject horror.
She, with a tinge of sadness, quietly replied by pointing out that Nigredo was neither the first person she had seen left without their face, nor even the most visceral.
Shock and horror had long since lost any meaning to her.
Despite appearances, it was the woman's personality which made her hard to interact with. She seemed to skip between caring and scaring with a moment's notice, both appealing to her humanity and condemning her for her excessive killing.
In the end, she felt that it was in her own best interest that they simply not meet again.
Finally, there was the third named NPC to make their primary residence on the fifth floor, Neuronist.
For reasons completely opposite to Nigredo, meeting her just once was more than enough.
As Tanya saw it, there would have been a time and a place for a specialist in non-consentual communication, were it not for magic to charm or dominate her enemies; Information gathering could already be reliably performed without the need for such brutish methods.
Naturally, Nazarick's officers made extensive use of this as well, so cases where classical non-magical interrogation became necessary were few to none, in favor of domination, which was superior in practically every way.
Thus, Neuronist's job was not necessarily 'intelligence gathering' as her job title implied, but rather to cause pain for pain's sake alone.
Flexible as Tanya's morality generally might be, she still found the profession to be distasteful.
That being said, she was also fairly certain that half of Nazarick would not share her conclusion, if not personally share the hobby.
So, she chose to do what any sensible person would do upon learning that her colleagues favored torture as a method for entertainment: Nothing. Their choice of diversion had no relation to her, any more than hers were to them.
Besides, once she looked past the sadism, human-eating, and general disregard for human life, they weren't bad to talk to, personality-wise. The Pleiades maids, for instance, were fairly approachable, once you passed the initial hurdle of being acknowledged as a non-insect. Each had their own developed interests, beyond simply what had been written about them, hobbies they could chat about over tea and snacks (coffee still being irritatingly difficult to source).
On the other hand, there wasn't much conversation to be had when the other party was a Brain Eater obsessed with fashion, gossip, and the latest in inflicting pain onto others. But again, she was under no obligation to socialize with everybody she met to benefit her career.
Tanya wordlessly passed into the frozen palace, every footfall echoing throughout the room. The floor inside was hard, smooth ice with the texture of black marble, the dark tint formed by the deep, empty shadow beneath instead of any paint or dye.
Deep beneath her feet, numerous presences wandered around, living shadows and formless monsters squirmed unnaturally, yet she spared them no attention. Instead she glanced over to the side, where a woman – or rather, monster – with skin the same pale blue as the ice around stood waiting for her.
The two of them exchanged a nod to acknowledge each other's existence, though neither said a word to the other.
Were one of the other Floor Guardians to visit this place, they would be greeted warmly, but her welcome exactly the icy, expressionless mask which matched the woman's appearance.
This woman – one of Cocytus's personal servants and bodyguards, a high-leveled Frost Virgin – wouldn't normally be stationed in this place, but instead transferred to this place a moment ago after sighting her flying around the 5th floor.
No doubt she had arrived to monitor Tanya as much as guide her. The unannounced visit was naturally viewed with some suspicion, and the majority opinion of those monsters with whom she had not yet spoken was to consider her an outsider. None of them would express that hostility outright, of course, but the division was pretty clear.
From the entrance to the open chamber, she passed to the opposite side, where she reached an open staircase which spiraled into the shadows below. Each individual stair was connected to its neighbors by the slightest sliver of its corner, hanging in space more by magic than physics, with neither wall nor handrail on either side, only the empty void, and would rink loudly as she stepped onto it, alerting the shadows which filled the hollow cavern.
Thousands of luminous eyes watched her every move from the blackness, focused on her from all directions, maintaining an even distance to her. On occasion, every single one of the eyes would blink in unison, turning the room nearly pitch-black for the brief moment before they reopened.
Were an invader to intrude into this prison, they would find their party forced onto this narrow walkway, struck and grasped at from every direction by the shadows themselves, unable to coordinate their attacks by the precarious terrain, yet forced to fight in a situation where a single misstep meant falling into the pit of unfathomable depth. Not even flight would save the prospective invader, for the void all around would distort their perspective, making it next to impossible to distinguish space from floor from wall from enemy.
All in all, although its construction would violate innumerable safety regulations, it made for a devious trap against any attacker, as well as any would-be escapees from the prison underneath.
These monsters known as Myriad Eyes gazed down onto Tanya like stars in the void.
On occasion, some of the minimally-intelligent monsters spawns or automatic traps might recognize her as an intruder, as it was not technically possible for her to be officially associated as an ally without the game's command console, which was inaccessible to Ainz.
That being said, the Myriad Eyes was a distant relative of Beholder-type monsters, with a relatively high level, the ability to use numerous evil-eye skills and 9th tier magic, and corresponding intellect.
They were easily capable of mental communication, let alone enemy recognition, and the fact that they neither stopped her nor asked for her purpose in coming here implied that they were content with letting her do her business unimpeded.
Tanya continued down the long downward spiral, the Frost Virgin still following behind without a word, matching her steps exactly four stairs behind.
Finally, after eight full revolutions around the long coil of stairs, the path straightened out and passed into a wall. From the moment she passed underneath the small black gateway, the curtain of darkness fell away, leading her into her destination, a stone-brick dungeon.
From here she would have to navigate a labyrinthian series of tunnels. Despite having passed through here once before, the exact path had since changed as a number of walls were in fact mobile, wall-shaped monsters which would on occasion relocate and alter the maze.
An intruder who could differentiate monsters from ordinary walls could destroy the former to make a new path for themselves, while the regular residents of the dungeon could bypass it entirely by entering a password to interact with Nazarick's mechanisms, or in the case of Ainz and some other Guardians, teleport straight through to the end using the power of the Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown.
None were ideal, but for Tanya, there was a fourth solution: following the flow of magic which could be followed from start to finish like Ariadne's Thread laid out for her, an unintended consequence of the same system which once tested player-made dungeons to ensure they could not completely block off any paths, leaving a faint but barely perceptible trail in the process.
The thought occurred to her that there was a fifth option as well, that being to simply ask the Frost Virgin next to her for the correct route. She, being among Cocytus's elites, would definitely be in possession of that information, but Tanya chose not to do so as a matter of preference.
It didn't take long at all for her to exit out the other end, the Frost Virgin visibly bewildered by their avoiding every single dead end and pitfall along the way. She had just witnessed every step of the meticulously designed Fifth Floor defenses ignored as if they had never been there. Worse, the method by which Tanya had done so was impossible to identify with her abilities.
She had gone along with the expectation of being asked the solution to their puzzle, yet quickly found herself on the side in need of answers, wanting to ask for the flaw, but too prideful to admit that there was one.
From here, the events of today would probably be reported to Cocytus, then forwarded to Demiurge, who would either figure out the solution, or otherwise be in a position to demand an explanation from her, being her organizational superior.
The Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick was by no means free of bureaucracy. Like two disjoint branches of a military state competing for accolades and funding, they would naturally compete for the finite resource that was Ainz's attention and praise.
It was admittedly far more functional than the sort of dictatorship where each individual would build their own faction for the purpose of seizing resources and claiming the throne, but not nearly as efficient as a corporation which learned to divide operations and streamline communications – unfortunately made even more difficult given the nature of humans, and as much as she would love to take a stab at it herself, this was not the right world for doing so.
If that was to be her goal, she would first need the power to cross dimensions, either by achieving it herself, purchasing Shiro's favor, or ideally, both. Fortunately, her currently ageless body meant that there was no time limit to doing so, but reality was unlikely to be so kind. Whether through the appearance of new enemies, evolution of past foes, or idling gods, time would invariably mean new challenges, so idling around was never an option.
Even with no immediate threats to her safety, she needed power. Not just the unclear power of 'levels' granted through whatever system it was that replicated the game of YGGDRASIL but real personal improvement, training and experience with magic, and one way or another, to transcend her still pitiful magic capacity. Exploiting Tier Magic provided a number of stopgaps such as sealing magic for later use, but it did little to improve the pool of mana available to her.
The System's game levels could be a useful step, as evidenced by Ainz and the vast aura of magic he constantly radiated, but even that appeared as a mere flicker of a spark in her eyes when compared to what she had seen from Being X, himself a tiny fragment of the limitless potential exhibited by a supreme evil god that she had gotten a brief glance at.
She had witnessed this bottomless abyss of power against which she was less than a gnat, not than an abnormal sinner and target for reformation, merely a passing amusement barely worth toying with.
And yet, she met it not with despair, but with growing hope. There were a number of other ordinary people like herself, individuals who had lived an ordinary life only to be thrown into another world on the whims of some god. Of these select few, many were weaker than her as she was now, but more importantly, a good few were stronger. At least one had even ascended to true divinity, which strongly implied that there existed a path to reaching that level of power.
Tanya had no doubt that the exact same path was sealed to her, the theoretical possibility of that evolution was a ravenous temptation. In hindsight, allowing the devil that was Being X to escape her punishment with simple death would never have been enough to satisfy her.
To surpass him, seize his throne and tear down every statue and eliminate his fanatical worshipers from the face of every world… that would make for a good starting point.
Revenge, after all, was rarely something satisfied so easily by death. Grudges lasted generations, long past the deaths of those who originally bore them.
Vengeance would motivate the most irrational of actions, to throw away one's future for a moment's satisfaction, or to devote one's entire life to revenge against a god-like being.
With every idle moment, she visualized the path she had to take in order to achieve success, planning the details of every step along the to her goal.
Which had brought here here.
Tanya angled her head to look up at the girl suspended from the cold stone wall.
She had been left nude but for the iron restraints around each of her limbs, torso, and neck. That the visible skin was pristine without the slightest blemish was not evidence of mercy, but instead demonstrated that whatever had been done to her was of the intensity that complete healing was necessary to keep her alive – she had her uses, after all, as Tanya had once argued.
From her vacuous eyes, it was clear that she would not be speaking by her own volition, so Tanya began by using [Dominate] without a second thought.
At once, the prisoner's eyes darted open to look at her, without the slightest hint of emotion or resistance.
Tanya had only to issue a single command.
"Now, tell me everything the Theocracy knows about the Dragon Lords." (Tanya)
Start of Volume 3. Will try to get back to regular schedule from here
Discord for random discussion, complaining, and pointing out errors: WZr7tET
