Breeding Issues

by The Ruff Pusher

Momon the Dark Hero encounters Zesshi Zetsumei. mature content/smut

31. Chapter 31

This story uses the same setting as my other story "Momon, Big Black Changeling". Essentially, Ainz Ooal Gown is the same type of creature as in that story, although this and that story happen in different worlds.

---

The city of E-Rantel was said to be a city that no longer slept. Obviously, the addition of a few districts that housed immigrant demihumans, some of whom had nocturnal tendencies. That meant there were now plenty who actually needed to be active during the night. These demihumans needed work, and the city needed to oblige that, for which opportunistic merchants were glad to serve. Entire caravans filled with goods moved in and out of the city in an unending stream, fueling the booming commerce that was fast becoming the city's landmark.

And then there were still those humans who were night owls, or who spent a lot of their time in the many taverns scattered throughout the city. They kept the city rowdy and noise-filled even unto the hours of dawn, ensuring that the city never slept, whether sun or moon loomed high in the sky.

A few hours after midnight, a lone figure stumbled out of a tavern, its boots scuffing and leaving mighty footprints on the dust. No one in the crowds it walked through marked its passing, for drunks were a commonplace sight at times like these. And there were also no unsavory types who followed along behind the figure, hoping to waylay it and steal something.

While there were few new rules imposed by the Sorcerer-King when he took over rule of the city from the Re-Estize Kingdom, the administration of the city was generally relaxed. But crime was punished severely, and somehow the undead lord employed creatures that could trace a criminal to his very doorstep. And if found guilty through the sophisticated elixirs that forced someone to tell the truth, death was the lowest tier of punishment that a criminal would get. After a demonstration of such terrifying verdicts during the first few weeks of the Sorcerous Kingdom's rule, there were quite fewer individuals who would dare take a step out of line. Even Momon, who had guaranteed the safety of all citizens under his aegis, had proclaimed that he would always be on the side of justice. As long as it was fair and reasonable, he would not object to the Sorcerer-King's extreme punishments.

So the figure, shambling much like a walking corpse, was left alone and unmolested even by the darkest of hearts. It eventually reached the walkway right outside of a certain house. That caused no few amount of raised eyebrows, but since the figure was not turned away, no words could be said.

This was a place said to be owned by Momon the Dark Hero, after all, the self-proclaimed guardian of E-Rantel. And yet the adventurer himself had not been seen to be visiting this place for quite a long while.

No one in the city was aware that the house was currently being loaned to the adventurer group Blue Rose. And the mysterious figure who was presently stumbling towards the front door was one of their number: the immensely muscular Gagaran. Her eyes were heavily-lidded, as if she was close to falling asleep, and slurred songs and mutterings could be heard from her lips. With a feat of dexterity belying her current state, Gagaran slipped the door key inside its hole, then pushed the open door wide to step over the threshold.

"Where the heck have you been?" came a strict voice from right in front of the woman. The voice brooked no rebuke or argument, and was so commanding that Gagaran froze for a moment before relaxing.

"Ack, Lakyus, it's just you," she said, her words noticeably slurred. "You shouldn't surprise me like that, my heart almost jumped right out of me chest…"

The leader of Blue Rose, the blonde Lakyus, sighed while tapping her foot on the floor. She was wearing a simple sleeping wool robe, and her arms were crossed over her chest. Her face was marked with disapproval as she watched her comrade close the door behind her, blocking out the noise and hubbub of the city that had been streaming inside for a few moments.

"Really, Gagaran, this is almost inexcusable now," Lakyus continued, rather sternly. "I realize that I have no right to dictate what you do on your own time, but you should not be coming home so late. It's almost morning! We were all worried sick when we woke up to find you were still outside."

"Nahhhh, don't mind it!" Gagaran said, slightly limping forward to face her leader directly. "'m terribly sorry to be worrying you lot. But there were a lot of parties last night! Whole buncha people celebratin' the end of the war. I just couldn't miss it. Almost got some action myself, but I strictly followed your command to not fraternize while we're on standby."

"You and I both know it's not that simple," Lakyus huffed. "This is not the only instance where you've thrown away common sense to faff about town like a common drunk. In fact, were it not for my own condition, I'd chastise you for possibly getting sloppy."

"Hey," Gagaran said, wagging her finger. "Ain't no one who should be doubtin' me, least of all you guys. My sword'ssss as sh-sh-shh-sharp as ever. C'mon Lakyus, you know me. When's inebriation really been a bane on me skills?"

Lakyus sighed again, and stared into Gagaran's earnest eyes. "Well, let's hope this is the last 'excursion' for a while. We're reasonably close to making a return, and I warn you that any perceived failure on your part will be grounds for censure." Her expression then softened. "But beyond that—welcome home. Wash your damned face, and try not to be too loud snoring. You know I need the peace and quiet."

Gagaran grinned as she waved off Lakyus, who went to the living room. With sober, critical eyes, she watched her leader's progress. Despite her inebriation her warrior's senses were still able to detect the small hints of hesitation in her strides. Gagaran took a breath, and went upstairs to her own room.

As always, Leader spoke from a position of concern as the, well, leader of their group. While Momon and Keeno had generously allowed them to live in this house for free— a not insignificant privilege considering the prices land and property during these dark times—the rest of their accommodations had been theirs to shoulder. That included the food and other necessities. And while they had deep wells of savings to draw upon at the start, the many days of waiting for Lakyus' recovery—and subsequent rehabilitation—meant that even if they had been frugal, they would still have been eating into their savings bit by bit.

And of course, in all that time they had not been able to find work. Part of the reason for this was that there was little need for adventurers during the tumult of the war. But it was also because their status as adamantine-rank meant that they could not really waste their time doing the smaller errands that popped up in the local Guild from time to time.

And somehow, the more lucrative jobs that Blue Rose had hoped to do even without Lakyus (and Keeno) had been entirely nonexistent. It was like monsters were aware of the war and were scared to come out—perhaps there was a little truth to that, with the Sorcerer-King's involvement and all. There had been enough kooky rumors bandied about in the taverns she frequented, of the Sorcerer-King having already gained control over the continent's monster population. What few members were let loose to earn a quest of extermination were actually carefully controlled, so as to give his "adventurer initiative" an enhancement.

She sighed and tried not to literally trample on the floorboards once she was on the second floor. She was standing right over the living room below, and prior experience had already shown how much of a racket one could make through the ceiling. Tia and Tina had let their spars go too far that one time while she had been downstairs, and the noise plus the hangover combined into a sensation not unlike a war drummer actively slamming onto her skull without mercy.

She looked into Tia's and Tina's room, which doubled as a training room for them after they had put the large four-poster beds away. She saw the twins sparring even now without wielding any weapons, using just punches and kicks to attempt to push each other out from a circle drawn in chalk on the floor. The way they sparred was so fast and so silent that she hadn't heard it from downstairs.

Without pausing to interrupt their movements, Tia and Tina greeted her, "Welcome back."

"Anything new?" Tia asked, ducking to avoid a roundhouse kick while also striking out with an uppercut.

Gagaran shrugged. "I've heard a lot of things that are 'new', but for us they're relatively 'old'. So it's useless for us."

"We'll listen later. Go to your rest," Tina said, slamming her palm against the uppercut while pivoting to recover.

"Ain't gonna argue with that," Gagaran said, waving goodbye to the twins as they continued their silent sparring.

She went to the washroom and slammed a whole bucket of cold water over her head, not minding the water trickling through her leather armor—it was nothing a quick magic scroll couldn't fix. One good thing about this washroom was that it could be supplied with water directly from the well through pipes, which spoke to the affluence of its owners. She let the frigid sensation course through her mind for a few seconds before she shook her head, flecking drops of moisture all over the tiled surface.

Then she went to her chambers. She shook off the armor, checked to make sure her weapon had not been stolen, then checked to make sure the other weapon she left behind in the house had not been nicked somehow by Lakyus or the twins. She checked under the bed and the corners of the ceiling, making sure there had been no surprise visitors who had somehow managed to come in unseen. Then she ensured the windows were locked up tight. According to Evileye, there were enchantments that protected it from all sorts of brute force, though Gagaran understood the value of prudence.

There was a reason Lakyus hadn't really gotten on her case downstairs. She knew full well that Gagaran wasn't just idling away, frittering off their gold savings on rivers of drink. She was also gathering information in the various taverns she visited. It was important to keep abreast of the situation surrounding them. She and the twins switched off every other day, though she could freely admit they could remain sober doing so and didn't need to drink a whole tavern's worth of people under the table.

It was also a way for them to surreptitiously find work, even those outside the purview of the official guild. It seemed out of character for the proud adamantite-rank adventurers, but work was work. They had even swallowed their pride looking for Worker-related jobs. Thankfully, there had been nothing from that front, which meant their "honor" remained intact.

Before she lay down her body on the bed, Gagaran uncorked the vintage bottle of wine she had discovered in this house a long while back. It was an exquisite drink, one which she recognized immediately as very high-class. She would have been able to fetch a pretty penny for this if she had sold it to a merchant—which she nearly did, but then she decided to indulge herself for once. She didn't know how such a bottle had come to be in this house, but she wasn't complaining. She took the occasional sip every day, rationing the drink as much as she could. Quality like this deserved to be savored.

She took a swig, swirled the nectar inside her mouth for a few long, glorious moments, before she collapsed on the bed. She exhaled, as the events of the past evening came to her in brief flashes of memories.

She recalled that there had been a lot of pleased low-level merchants who had been extra generous with buying people drinks. Reading between the lines, Gagaran had been able to guess that somehow these people had managed to find a line of trade in the chaos of the Kingdom's dissolution that other people had not been able to find.

She also noted that the usual crop of mercenaries and soldiers-for-hire had not been present. Usually that meant that they had already been hired for jobs, but this had been a full month without their presence. These were people who could not find work in E-Rantel, as Ainz Ooal Gown used his own soldiers to police and guard the city. Either they were still doing their jobs in some far place, or they had settled down to find steady work in another city.

All of it altogether might end up being useful. Or it could just end up being nothing in the end. But she would note it later in their communal records, and they would discuss it when the time came.

For now, she rested, hoping to catch a few winks.

---

Down below, Lakyus was starting off her day with busywork. First, she sharpened and oiled her trusty black blade. She sat at the corner of the room, placed an assortment of cloths on the floor, set the tools on one side and her swords on the other. She then drew the sword from the scabbard, and set to work.

Her body was still very weak from the incident, as her body had literally been starved of the mana needed to support it. But after months of rest and constant recovery, she could herself growing strong with every passing day. It was yet not complete, but it was certainly a far cry from the humiliating decrepitude that she had experienced on her earliest days, when she could not help but sleep all day, when even the slightest movement of her body could drain her so much of energy as if she had run a full marathon.

For a couple of weeks, she couldn't even rise to a sitting position on the bed without help. Her normal strength had utterly left her limbs, and she was forced to rely on others for her normal bodily functions. And then some days were spent having her teammates help her rise and walk around on her ungainly feet, as if she had become a baby once more, who was still learning how to walk.

Then as time passed, she was able to walk slowly by herself, but she was still prone to collapsing suddenly, which necessitated that someone would always be there to watch her every time she wanted to move from the bed. She needed a walking stick to lean on when she wanted to walk, a point on which her fellow guildmates scolded her, for if she was yet at a point that she could not walk properly, perhaps she should just take it easy for now? But she was firm in her desire to regain her normal self, and she was determined that it should start even with "small steps" like walking. Though she would never deny that it was so physically draining that she thought she would die every time she traveled a few feet.

By the time she discarded the stick, she was able to grasp and lift small objects carefully. She made a habit of lifting things to and fro in her room. Doing this always left her exhausted as if she had endured some sort of gruesome battle. She even collapsed a couple of times, an embarrassing state of affairs she wanted to fix no matter what.

Being finally able to lift her own weapons again was perhaps the most joyful part of her life in recent memory. She had held off on doing so for the longest time, fearing what it would do to her mind should she try once only to fail miserably. She only attempted to lift it once she was sure more than a semblance of her old strength had returned to her. And this was after she was able to carry around a lot more than just a pile of books without fainting from the strain.

And so, when she finally felt ready, she gripped the hilt of her black blade and lifted. Her muscles strained for a moment, before she gritted her teeth and pushed herself all the way. After exhaling a long breath, she beheld the sword in her hands—and she wasn't even tired from lifting it. She didn't even protest when Gagaran insisted on holding a celebratory feast afterward.

The next step would be to start her physical drills, all to bring her body back to full shape, worthy of the adamantite rank. This was her current state, one which she prepared for by diligently oiling and sharpening her swords, as if she wanted to remind her body that she was a deadly woman, and that like the swords she needed to return to top form.

As she was about to start on the white blade given to her by Momon, she heard the distant knock on the door reverberate throughout the house. She was suddenly alert. The house was said to have been enchanted by Momon such that no random passersby could just go up and knock without being led away. He had claimed to have done so because he'd intended for this house to be his and Evileye's humble love nest, a fact that had made them all smile and Evileye blush brighter than a ripe tomato. Only those who had an actual reason, who knew that Blue Rose were here and possibly had business with them, could make such a din by knocking.

She was about to rise when she saw Tina pass by beyond the opening to the corridor. She glanced at her for a second, miming silently that she would take care of the door. Lakyus huffed, but she did stand regardless, and put away her blade. Undoubtedly there might be some business coming to call, and she would not hide behind her frailty any longer.

As she walked purposefully towards the corridor, she heard the door open. There were a few murmured words, then the sound of the door closing. She heard the two sets of footsteps now, which meant that Tina had allowed the caller to enter. From that she was able to guess at the identity of the visitor.

She had not taken long to speculate when Tina returned in view. "It's Evileye," she said simply, perhaps unnecessarily, gesturing towards the living room. At that, her blonde former comrade appeared, her belly large and rotund. She wore a dress of ruby white, and a traveling cloak colored ruby red, which she now unwound to reveal her long, blonde tresses. Evileye sighed and stamped her feet, before smiling and nodding towards Lakyus.

Lakyus greeted her with, "Ah, Evileye, welcome, welcome. It's good to see you. Come in, and have a seat, please."

"I won't say no, it's been something of a long journey."

Lakyus and Tina observed as their former comrade waddled to one of the seats. Evileye practically collapsed on it, and breathed out a sigh of relief.

Lakyus noted that Evileye's pregnant bulge was larger than it had been on the last time she had visited. The latter had visited the house periodically over their stay, and they were almost always brief visits to get an update on Lakyus' situation. And just as Evileye witnessed Lakyus' progress with her condition, so too did Blue Rose witness the constant growth of Evileye's impending child.

Footsteps announced Tia's arrival from behind, who greeted Evileye with a wave. The blonde huffed and said, "Well, don't you just stand there. What are you doing? Either leave or take a seat. Especially you, Leader. Don't think I haven't seen the slight wobble in those knees of yours."

"R-Right," Lakyus said, heading over to find herself a seat. She silently cursed the remaining weakness that still gripped her body.

Evileye paused, having caught sight of the tools and the sword behind Lakyus. "Oh, were you cleaning?"

"Yes, my apologies for the mess," Lakyus said. Evileye waved it away.

"You know I've never been one to stand on ceremony. But it is good to see your improvements personally," Evileye said. Naturally, they had sent a letter to Evileye once Lakyus had been able to wield a sword once more, so she already knew about it even if her last visit had been when Lakyus had still been leaning on a stick. "Though I would sternly caution against going all out with being an adventurer just yet."

Lakyus and the twins glanced at each other, with Evileye having touched on a topic sensitive to them, even if unknowingly. The former cleared her throat and said, "W—well, how about sir Momon? How is he doing? We haven't spoken to him in… quite a while now."

"Oh he's just fine. Well, I got to admit, he's a lot busier nowadays," Evileye said, after a beat. "He is always sorry that he can't be here, so it's not like he's totally forgotten you lot."

"Much as we are flattered, we also know full well the demands of our work," Lakyus said. "And we are, after all, very much grateful for his indulgence in lending us this house."

"Oh. Right." Evileye looked up, her eyes taking in the interior from one corner of the room to the other. A short silence followed, which necessitated a change in the conversation.

Lakyus cleared her throat. "…Tell us, Evileye. Aren't you almost due for your baby?"

The small woman scoffed. "I wish. Let me tell you, lugging this guy around's gotten to be the worst experience. Not… Not that I hate it of course. But he's definitely a big… inconvenience."

"I've heard that many times from other mothers," Lakyus said knowingly. "You'll be fine."

"I sure hope so. A… friend just recently gave birth, and I was able to see firsthand how it can go." She shuddered visibly. "I'm… still a bit petrified about the whole prospect. Although the baby, of course, is a wonderful thing. Do you also not think so?"

Lakyus glanced at the others. She could well admit that it was rather awkward to try to commiserate with a pregnant woman—when one had not personally experienced that state themselves. Each of the twins shrugged in their turn, as if to silently say, Well we've never had to bear children, what about you, leader?

She sighed. Fortunately, she was kept from having to discuss the possible merits of motherhood or of the delights of children by the rude stomp-stomp of someone descending the stairs, followed by the arrival of Gagaran.

"Oh, here's the prodigal lass!" Gagaran yelled, a little boisterously. "I thought I heard the door open. I thought I was about to menace some unruly fellas with my blade." Lakyus narrowed her eyes, seeing the hint of drunkenness still in her comrade's expression. She was also wearing her blade on her hip, something that definitely didn't belong in the hands of a drunk Gagaran.

"Guh, your breath still stinks," Tia said, glaring at the other woman. "You should take a bath first." Beside her, Tina moved backward subtly, sharing a frown with her twin.

"Nonsense!" Gagaran said, waving that complaint away. "I'm perfectly fine. I may have been drunk a bit," she nodded towards Lakyus. "But nothing a few drops of my elixir can't fix."

"Gagaran, you've only been sleeping for an hour or so," Lakyus said chidingly. "You should be resting."

"And miss the chance to say hello to her? Not likely," Gagaran said. She turned to Evileye and appraised her, perhaps noting her bigger belly. "It is good to see you hale and healthy, squirt. And I am looking forward to seeing the little squirt when the time comes. When is the brat coming?"

They expected Evileye to extend a sharp barb to that, as she always did when communicating with Gagaran. But somehow, she just smiled and chuckled. "When the time comes, old bull, I hope you'll get along with my child like we always did."

Gagaran blinked, surprised, at Evileye's gentle expression. Then she grinned. "Man, I give up. Motherhood sure suits you, old friend. You're taking to it like a pig to mud." She went to the nearest chair and plopped herself right down. "So when can we see the little tyke? Soon, I hope."

"Are you reasonably close to… delivering?" Lakyus asked.

Evileye shrugged. "According to… the midwives, I'm told it'll just be under a month. So pretty close, I'd say."

"Well, we're all looking forward to it," Lakyus said. "Especially to see the little one at long last." They had spoken of being with her during the time of the childbirth itself, but apparently that was not an option according to Evileye. Somehow, the people who would ensure her safe childbirth lived a fair distance, and only Momon could bring them there. And then Blue Rose ultimately decided not to insert themselves into the privacy of their relationship. They did not know Momon too well, and it would not do to presume themselves as friends of his, a fact he clearly did not share with his not speaking to them for a long while. Their only point of intersection was Evileye, and perhaps that would need to do for the time being.

"I want to know if it's a boy," Tia said.

"Or a girl," Tina said.

"Or if it's twins," they said in unison.

"Nah, fat chance of that," Evileye waved. "Apparently, that's something you learn from the start. And let me tell you, carrying even more than one's supposed to feel a lot worse than this. So I'm grateful I have only the one.

"Well, never mind about me," Evileye said, waving a hand over her belly. "What about you, how are you all doing? I see Lakyus is doing fine, well, relatively speaking, but what about the rest of you?"

"We're all keeping our bodies in tip-top shape," Tina said. "But most of the time we're just guarding leader."

"Keeping in shape I hope?" Evileye asked shrewdly. At their look, she shrugged. "As if I really even needed to ask." Gagaran guffawed, flexing her muscles and making a show of crushing something between her meaty hands.

"You see these? You won't be seeing these waste away. Nuh uh. Not in a thousand years." The rest of her teammates really didn't waste their time idling. When they weren't going out to gather information, they were training while also watching her. In the early days, they'd even done exercises right in the room where she was lying. Though only the twins seemed to be able to get away with doing it silently.

"Along the way we've also been keeping up with the news," Tia said, gesturing. "… Just in case we needed to evacuate or something."

"Well, moot point now," Gagaran said, having snatched a bauble on display from the nearby table. She toyed with it idly in her hands. "With the war over and all."

They all shared a collective grimace at the mention of the war. They had never quite forgotten that they had been involved in the incident that had begun the war in the first place; and that had it not been for Lakyus' weakness, they might have taken steps to stop it from escalating. Over the months, as she recovered here, Blue Rose had kept abreast of the news, of the developments of the war, including the Sorcerer-King's entrance. The latter had been agonizing to hear about, as it most certainly spelled doom for the Kingdom. The fact that it had not been initiated by Ainz Ooal Gown, but that it had been in retaliation for something the Kingdom had done meant that the other nations took a dim view of it, even viewing Re-Estize as a den of warmongers.

Then, the war had ended, though not in a way that any of them had ever anticipated. The Re-Estize Kingdom that they had known had been splintered into entirely new nations. The once vast kingdom was now to be a land filled with smaller nations, much as the City-State Alliance had been.

Once again, it had been a grim reminder of their role in the war, and of how they had been there standing on the cusp of history. Perhaps the war, and the Kingdom's dissolution could have happened without them. But their presence was an undeniable factor, in ways none of them could have ever predicted.

"And so we've been keeping busy looking out for work," Tia continued to explain, for Evileye's benefit.

Evileye shook her head. "It'll be hard, what with the Guild's state being in flux. I'd suggest you move to the Empire—"

"But the Sorcerer-King's influence is still there," Lakyus said. Technically, they could have gone to the local Guild house to find work, but that meant they would also, in a way, be working directly for the Sorcerer-King.

Evileye pursed her lips and nodded. "Yes, I'd imagine that's gonna be the stopping point for you lot."

"It's not like it's completely hopeless, though," Gagaran remarked. She glanced at the twins. "Eh?"

"A lot of traffic going through E-Rantel these days," Tina said, nodding. Apparently, there were now a lot of caravans and convoys entering the city, swelling it to overflowing. But these were not immigrants applying to join the Sorcerer Kingdom. They didn't stay long, and quickly left down the many roads leading back out of E-Rantel—and into the former Re-Estize Kingdom.

It was easy enough to deduce what they were doing, or where they were going. These were a disparate set of peoples, with their own backgrounds and motivations. There were people who had fled the Kingdom before, and who were now returning after hearing news of the war's end. And then there were people who thought that the founding of these new nations was a good opportunity to better their lives from what they presumably had in other nations.

Blue Rose belonged to that first group: the displaced ones who now didn't know what they were supposed to do, or where they were supposed to go.

She said as much as introduction to Evileye, who listened with her usual stoic equanimity. "So you're thinking of leaving soon, then?" she said, with a cock of her head.

"Once I've recovered, yes," Lakyus said. "We would not wish to impose too much on sir Momon's hospitality, though we are eternally grateful for it. And to you, of course, my friend."

"You know we don't really mind. It's not like we're hassling you for rent," Evileye pointed out. "If you want, I can ask Momon to put you up in here. Not in this house, maybe. But he can ask for a house here in E-Rantel, and you can stay there."

Lakyus shook her head, smiling softly. "Your generosity is quite appreciated my friend. But we cannot be entirely reliant on your charity."

Evileye huffed. "So what if it is charity then? You lot shouldn't choose to be so prideful when it comes to times like these."

"Well, it wouldn't be good if we stayed too long here anyway," Gagaran remarked. "Not to knock against your hubbie, squirt, but staying too long near the rule of evil's not good for us good and just Adventurers. Sooner or later, we'd be scheming to get rid of him, and Ainz Ooal Gown knows that full well."

Evileye looked like she was about to say something then he grunted and closed her mouth. "Well, where are you even supposed to go?" she queried. "The Adventurer's Guild based in the Re-Estize Kingdom has surely been dissolved by now. And new ones won't be founded in these new nations until the situation's better, or so I recall." She would know, having lived through such troubled times in her life already. "Landfall" had personally witnessed the end of many kingdoms, though as she understood it none of it was really her fault.

Gagaran shared a look with Lakyus. "At the moment, we're looking to go to the Naru-Lorel Unified Realms, as they're called," she said.

"Naru-Lorel…" Evileye repeated. "That's the one that's said to be a puppet of Argland, is it not? Why there?"

"By all accounts, my uncle seems to have been last sighted in Argland," Lakyus said. "Though I have not heard from him at all since the start of the war. As a member of Red Drop, they are sure to have heard about the war, and might possibly have returned, or planned to return. They do have friends in high places. Or they did, anyway." Lakyus herself wasn't sure if her own contacts among the former nation's nobility were still there. It was possible they had been wiped out, or had found new loyalties. In the latter case, that meant asking favors for them would not quite be politic.

"You wanna find him."

Lakyus nodded. "Though the twins seemed to be having some reservations about it."

Tia sighed, looking as if she was about to repeat the same old argument (which was true, in a way). "Here's the deal. We're on our last ropes, to put it bluntly. It is only thanks to Momon that we have not been forced to pay even more for lodgings. But the food, the medicines, and all the rest of the expenses have drained our coin, even the ones we'd saved for just a time like this."

Her sister continued, "The Estizian Plutocractic League is known to have several merchant lords already in their ranks. It seems they've pooled together their fortunes to make lords of themselves in this new nation. Yet it is close to the Abelion Hills, which means a lot of possible places to clean up, especially after Jaldabaoth's war. And surely, they would be paying handsomely for the services of a high-ranking adventurer group. Especially one with a reputation like us, Blue Rose."

"Aye, there were a lot of merchants here at E-Rantel telling me they were bound for the League," Gagaran remarked. "Perhaps hoping to get themselves a proper 'in' with the whole hierarchy being built up. And that's just more money flowing into that place."

"The point being," Tia concluded, "That there will definitely be a whole bunch of rich persons in that country. Doubtless they'll want to get their money's worth for whatever mess they want cleaning. They'd be better served giving that money to us."

"Well, that's certainly an option," Evileye said. She raised a brow at Lakyus. "Is that why I could sense some friction between you guys? You want to go to this place; they want to go another?"

"Pretty much," Gagaran said. Then her expression brightened, as if a thought had occurred to her. "Well now, if this isn't good timing, then I don't know what is. You're here, squirt. Maybe you can lend your opinion to break this little impasse."

"Me? You want me to arbitrate again? Are you sure you weren't just putting this argument on hold and waiting for my expert opinion?" Evileye said, scoffing. She frowned. "Well, how much are you really down for?"

Tina told her. Her eyes widened. "Really? You're that low? Then you've got to go to the merchants first. Absolutely." The twins and Gagaran exhaled loudly, even as she turned to Lakyus. "Think of it this way: if you manage to snag a few lucrative jobs under your belt, then the task of finding your uncle gets simpler. Informants, spies, the whole works. Like we always did before."

Lakyus bowed her head, sinking into her thoughts. When Evileye put it that way, it seemed the most logical conclusion to make. They did need the money. "… Well, I'm just worried that it would take too long to find my uncle then."

"Again, think of it this way," Evileye said, raising a finger. "If he's dead, then there's really nothing you could have done, even if you went looking for him first. But if he's not dead, then by the time you get around to looking for him he would've already resurfaced. He's a high-ranking adventurer after all. Resourceful, ambitious."

Lakyus took a deep breath. "I supposed that's true."

"Well, there's a chance he's been kidnapped or something," Evileye added. "But in a rare occasion like that, it's still one of two things. Either he manages to overpower his captors and escape—or he's dead anyway because Zuranon got ahold of him and he's already been used in some foul ritual."

Gagaran snorted. "Well, that little nugget of negativity sure sounds like you, squirt." Lakyus sighed again at that.

"But it is reasonable," Tia observed. "And she was able to explain her point better than you, Gagaran."

"Better than you two as well, since you couldn't convince leader," Gagaran shot back.

Evileye shrugged. "I really don't know what you lot can do without— whoa!"

They froze at Evileye's sudden exclamation. Her hands had gone to her belly, and thus their eyes went there first.

"What's wrong?" Gagaran asked. Her speed belied her natural bulk, as she stood on her feet in less than a second.

Then Lakyus saw it. They could all see a small hand's imprint on Evileye's smooth white skin. It was so small, small enough that she would have missed it, had it not been for Evileye's reaction. It also disappeared just a second later, as if it had been but a thing of the imagination.

"Oh!" The twins immediately scrambled forward, kneeling down to touch Evileye's belly.

The latter frowned, saying, "Careful with those hands. Don't be brutes or I'll stab your eyes," but she allowed the twins to continue.

"Was that…?" Lakyus asked, her eyes wide.

"The little one just kicked," Evileye said softly, her expression fond as she stared down and patted. "This one's rambunctious—no doubt they're gonna make life pain for their mother. Not that I'd hate it." She chuckled.

From watching Evileye's expression, she could see how her former comrade had changed. Perhaps it was true—in a way, her relationship with Momon and her pregnancy had changed her in subtler ways than even she could see.

"Where is it?" Tina asked.

"It's not moving anymore?" Tina said. Both twins were staring at her belly in awe, as if they expected the hand to return and say "hello" to them.

"They like to move, but not always. It's always a surprise," Evileye explained to the duo, who seemed slightly disappointed.

"You scared them," Gagaran said, in a deadpan voice. The twins shot her a venomous look.

"That does remind me, my friend," Lakyus said. "Have you yet come to a decision?"

"Decision?" Evileye repeated.

Lakyus smiled. "About you and Momon visiting the venerable Rigrit."

"Ohh… that…" Evileye's expression shifted, turning crooked as if she had suddenly sucked on a lime. "Right, that."

They had been exchanging letters with Rigrit during Lakyus' illness, asking for advice and exchanging certain news with the venerable hero. Rigrit would have visited, but she had explained that it would be risky to place herself directly in the den of the beast, particularly if Ainz Ooal Gown had ways to detect the presence of powerful beings. Still, even with just using letters, she had still been able to offer advice on certain matters.

"We last received a letter from her yesterday," Lakyus continued.

"Really now," Evileye said. She was silent, as if she was looking for the right word to say. "…And how is that old bat doing?"

"She's very excited to see you, my friend, but she's aware she can't without seeking Momon's permission. Which is precisely why she has asked if she and Momon might meet as soon as possible. She'd like you to ask him about it, and also to put in a good word."

"Put in a good word?" Evileye repeated. "The nerve of that woman.

It was not the first time that Rigrit had asked Evileye, and the latter's answer had always been no. Lakyus had been curious as to why, but did not pry when she considered that this was strictly a private affair between Momon and Evileye. Maybe Momon had some disagreement with Rigrit?

"Like I've said many times before," Evileye then said, shaking her head. "We'll only meet once the baby is born. I personally don't want to be doing anything strenuous while I'm still pregnant, thank you very much. And having to meet that old bat's just a whole lot of stress, believe me. I don't think Momon would forgive me if I gave birth before I'm due."

"Well of course not. It is your decision, my friend." After a pause, Lakyus continued. "She also asks if she might bring a friend along. She didn't say, but she intimates that you and she both know this one very well."

Evileye's brows furrowed with thought, before she blinked in surprise. "No way… That guy…?" she hissed.

"… I take it you might also be opposed to meeting them before birth."

"Right, yes, that's right!" Evileye all but exclaimed. She started biting her nails, a sure sign that she was agitated. "… Damn…"

"Hey settle down, squirt," Gagaran said, voice cautious. "You'll hurt something. Or somebody."

"Yeah, sorry, I'm just…" Evileye sucked in a loud breath.

Lakyus cocked her head, and shared a look with the others. They all shrugged, apparently just as clueless as her to what Evileye was thinking.

In the meantime, a feeling of dread swept through the diminutive woman. "What kind of purpose would the Platinum Dragon Lord have for meeting Momon? Oh, this is not good…" she thought.

---

The duties of the Emperor of the Baharuth Empire never ended, though his current allocation of daily work had ended by midday. From there, he was free to do any number of things—such as overseeing the training of the troops, hearing the latest advancements in his court of magic casters, or setting up personal contingences that no one else was supposed to know.

But never for personal leisure, no.

There was absolutely no leisure to be had, not when one was a vassal to the Sorcerer-King.

He had thought that he had at last accomplished a semblance of peace and tranquility, when nothing major had happened during the past few months. Yes, there had been a war between the Roble Holy Kingdom and the Re-Estize Kingdom, and he had been sure to keep a close eye on it. But what was a little war or two between neighbors? Had the Sorcerer-King not been there, he might have seen an opportunity to gobble up a few bits of land here and there.

Oh, there had been eyebrows raised, when the Sorcerer-King had declared war, to "settle grievances". He was honestly doubtful about such statements. He was sure that it had been orchestrated by that lich somehow, though it was also equally possible that Zanac had been just that stupid. His advisors' assessment of the man had been that of an ambitious second son, who had somehow lucked out into a position of power and was thus unprepared for what it all entailed. Here was a man who thought himself smart and cunning, and who perhaps may have bit off more than he could chew by attempting such a brazen invasion. It was like a man who'd lost a hand to a lion deciding to poke said beast again out of spite.

Then again, the Sorcerer-King might really have manipulated things, making the Prince dance like a puppet on strings, so perhaps he really couldn't be blamed. So in that, he might rightfully be pitied instead.

Naturally, the Empire had been forced to declare war, or be seen as a disloyal subject. He had mustered some of his forces, intent on fulfilling the obligation of a vassal. But he had been preempted by a message from their ambassador: they were to stand by within their borders and watch for any movements from the other nations.

He went to demand an audience with the ambassador housed here at the Empire, demanding to know (in rather delicate speech) about Ainz's intentions in this war.

"It is really rather simple, my lord Emperor," said the well-dressed creature, who was masquerading boldly as a human. Jircniv didn't know what race it was, but it seemed adept at crafting an illusion to mask its inhuman nature. "The Master has been wronged, very unjustly, by the Re-Estize Kingdom."

"Yes, but surely it is a little of an over-reaction," Jircniv ventured, trying not to show them his anxiety.

"If I may present a picture for you," the ambassador replied. "You have a house, and have built a fence around said house. Within that fence are the bounds of your home, the line separating what is and what is not yours. Then a man comes in, bearing weapons, leaps over the fence and lands on the other side—on your side. And what would you do?"

"I would ask them what they are doing, and demand they leave."

"They do not leave. The man advances upon you, his weapons bared, his intentions naked."

"Surely that did not happen," Jircniv said, in disbelief. "Did you really give them a warning?"

"A warning they ignored. And so, we are at the precise moment in my little picture where the owner of the house—Ainz-sama in this case—has picked up his own weapon to defend himself and his property from the invader. What follows then is the fight, the struggle. This is therefore the struggle; this war."

As far as he knew, the Sorcerer-King would not be "struggling" much at all.

From that Jircniv was able to surmise that this would be a war of annihilation. That the Kingdom had roused the undead lord's eternal fury, and that legions of monsters would march over the land, burning everything down, on a scale of destruction that even that Jaldabaoth had not achieved.

Reports from his agents proved him right, in that there were whole armies marching over the lands. But there was something wrong.

They had not been doing much of any burning, pillaging, or any of that other destructive stuff one expected. At first he was puzzled, but Jircniv reasoned that without the need for food or rest, the tireless armies definitely had no need for taking what they could from the Kingdom.

No, perhaps the Sorcerer-King's intent was different. Perhaps it was to make a show of force to cow the Kingdom to become a vassal, as Jircniv had done. Or it was an outright annexation. Why should Ainz Ooal Gown burn down precious land if he was to use it himself afterwards?

As the war progressed, Jircniv's guesses moved further towards the latter conclusion, as the Sorcerer-King had definitely commanded his forces not to touch anything that did not resist. It was clear then, that he had use for the territories he would need to swallow, and as such their destruction was not mandated.

It was all very reasonable and clear. Frightening, too, of course. But all in all, Jircniv felt that all was right in the world.

He was rudely reminded that nothing was ever so simple when it came to the Sorcerer-King. When the end of the fighting had come, he had then sent representatives to the so-called "Peace Summit" that Ainz Ooal Gown had organized. He had been clueless, expecting nothing from the negotiations but a division of land and resources between the victorious powers—or perhaps the Kingdom becoming a full-scale vassal in truth.

The news that King Zanac intended for the dissolution of his Kingdom made Jircniv's head hit the roof. It had been such an unexpected turn of events, something even his own mind had not predicted.

He had then ordered his men to pay close attention to what else was happening in the Peace Summit, and to inform him immediately if Ainz Ooal Gown made some announcements or anything else. He was sure that this dissolution had been an idea of Ainz's, considering Zanac had been essentially a "guest" of the Sorcerer-King's for many months. It was hard not to assume that this virtual destruction of a once-glorious kingdom was yet another one of his sinister plots. But what was that damned undead's plot? There had to be a reason for it, only shrouded from his eyes by the thing's malevolent cunning, but he still attempted to pierce the fog of that detestable mind.

The dissolution of the Re-Estize Kingdom into smaller states represented a transition into anarchy and chaos, but it also presented opportunity. Had he been free of Ainz's shackles, he would have jumped at the chance to seed his own people into these petty kingdoms, to inevitably pull them towards his nation's shadow. No doubt that was Ainz's intent—to prevent himself from being seen as a terrifying threat from vassalizing both his nation and Re-Estize, he had preferred to break it up into easily manageable chunks, for him to absorb later without much fuss. And when years passed and he ended up owning all the former Re-Estize territories, no one would really complain.

While there was a risk that other nations would successfully wrest control over this or that nation before Ainz, Jircniv was not delusional to think Ainz could not manage to have his way. The undead lord's devious mind was on an entirely different level, one Jircniv could never hope to comprehend. Surely there were already such plots in place, growing like hateful weeds in the gardens of these poor nations, only to sprout into a massive conspiracy when Ainz Ooal Gown gave the word.

You dare keep toying with our lives! You monster! Villain! He shouted in his mind, clenching his hand hard enough to make his nails draw blood.

When the Summit ended and everyone went their own ways, Jircniv braced for the next surprise that would issue from Ainz's side like geyser in a hot spring. People may have accused him of being so overly paranoid, but when it came to the Sorcerer-King, nothing could ever be taken for granted.

Today, on the usual time, a messenger came, bearing "urgent news" for him. The message had passed through several hands before reaching him, mostly to prevent assassins from knowing his true location—a practice that was still continued despite the immense likelihood that Ainz Ooal Gown had infiltrated their government.

The little scroll that lay on the table was like a monster bearing down on him at the Arena. With trembling fingers, he reached for it, as if he were expecting lethal spikes to burst out from the parchment like a hedgehog's back. When his hands closed around the scroll and nothing happened, he had to exhale loudly several times.

When he opened up the scroll and read the message's contents, Jircniv immediately smiled in triumph.

He was vindicated!

Here was proof that the Sorcerer-King would never stop being a source of fear and headache for him.

And then he laughed, long and hard, each hearty exhale like a refreshing breath of fresh air for him. If anyone else had been in the room, they would have assumed it the laughter of a bygone lunatic who had finally been pushed to the edge, so it was fortunate that no one else was there to see their ruler and emperor reduced to a babbling, giggling madman.

Eventually, he stopped, and the cold calculus of his mind returned, though it was not as if the giggling buffoon had been silenced entirely. It lay buried there in his soul, where he was sure Ainz had placed it, like a curios hidden in a glass jar, ready to be unleashed at the bastard's slightest whim.

Jircniv's gaze returned to the latest missive, where Ainz's latest offense against all that was good and logical lay in accursed script.

"Theocracy has begun making overtures of peace and friendship towards Sorcerous Kingdom."

And wasn't that just the greatest of surprises? He couldn't help but giggle, the absurdity still gripping his mind. Even the best of jesters could not have made a jape as well. Such craftsmanship! Such wit! Oh, if only it were all a joke…

The Slaine Theocracy was an old nation, dating back (as they claim) to the time of the Six Great Gods. This claim was not challenged, as none could gainsay its claim. It was able to back up its words with the might of the heroes who claimed descent from those very gods. Time and time again there were records in the archives of Arwintar detailing past battles when the "Theocracy soldiers" turned the tide of a battle so decisively it was thought that a god had descended upon their midst.

And of course, kings and emperors over the ages did not have a problem with its continued existence, as those fanatics did not seek domination over the land. Rather, they even lent their services to one king or another; perhaps enjoying the power they indirectly held over them all while still remaining ostensibly neutral.

But there was one other major thing that the Theocracy was known for. And that was its extreme views on the supremacy of the human race. It preached a creed that neither humanoid nor demihuman nor heteromorph would ever be tolerated as anything less than a stepping stone, or a tool to achieve humanity's end. When strange and powerful beings appeared in the storied past, the Theocracy was always there, perhaps as the vanguard, or perhaps lending their aid to whoever one was. This aspect of their nation was perhaps the first thing any human youngster learned about them.

Naturally, they would be opposed to such creatures as the undead lord, Ainz Ooal Gown, who proclaimed himself the Sorcerer-King and was now leading a kingdom of demihumans and heteromorphs. The Theocracy had been zealous in prosecuting Zuranon in the past, and it was certain that their attention would be quick to shift to this newcomer, who seemed like the natural apex of the hated undead.

That was the reason why he had thought to ally with them in the past. When faced with the sinister threat of Ainz Ooal Gown, whom he had so foolishly dealt with as if he were but a normal human king, he could see no other recourse for freeing himself from his unholy grasp than with a desperate, secret alliance. The Theocracy were a natural fit, for being the staunch nemesis of anything inhuman. Surely years of experience would help find a weakness they could exploit, and therefore rid him (and all of humanity) of an existential threat to their lives.

Alas, the fiend was smarter and more resourceful than he had ever anticipated. With such vile cunning, he was able to accomplish two things in but a single act. He alienated Jircniv from the Theocracy, who now suspected him of betraying humanity by using a tool of evil to win a war; and Jircniv himself was similarly trapped, as if Ainz was letting him know that there was no way to hide anything from the Sorcerer-King.

For that Theocracy to be sending overtures of friendship to the Sorcerer-King now meant a complete turnabout from their previous stance on the Kingdom, let alone the monstrous undead. Surely there must have been a mistake.

Yes, that was it. Jircniv literally dove into the archives, into the most recent missives from his emissaries who witnessed the Peace Summit. There, his people had painstakingly recorded the minutes of those meetings, and Jircniv had similarly paid close scrutiny to every single detail, as if he could read between the lines and see into the Sorcerer-King's soul.

Yes, he wasn't wrong. He pulled up a page and saw an example of what the Theocracy's stance towards the Sorcerer-King was. Which was to say: they were not overly hostile, but they were suspicious of his every action.

The minutes of the meeting showed that when Zanac announced the dissolution of his Kingdom, the Theocracy representative had stood up and questioned this decision loudly and in front of every representative present: that this must be a "ploy by the Sorcerer-King" and that Zanac had been coerced. Try as he might, Jircniv could not see this act as anything but affirming the status quo, that the Theocracy was opposed to Ainz.

He leafed through the other pages. There were similar such incidents, and most of them involved openly questioning Ainz in front of everyone, as if to bring him to an informal trial.

Ah yes! The question of the occupied territories. Here, the representative had again asked for a period of time to verify the state of the citizens, implying that the Sorcerer-King had somehow done something heinous. No, judging by the language, they were all but accusing Ainz of evil, for all the world to hear.

These were not questions or statements made in confidence. These were intended to put Ainz Ooal Gown on the spot, to at least demonstrate to the others, particularly those nations ruled by the powerful dragons, that Ainz was a threat.

Jircniv skimmed the rest of the pages, allowing his superior memory to recall the details as he went. Aside from making such objections, the Theocracy had done little else but observe. Jircniv had anticipated that they would make a play for E-Pespel, as according to his spies, their spies had been operating boldly there for many years now.

And Jircniv was pleased to have been proven right. The Theocracy had pressed for a new nation centered on that fiefdom, giving it a nice buffer state against the rest of the nations from the fractured Kingdom. And thus, the Pespellian Unitary State was born—independent to many eyes, and yet those in the know knew that the Theocracy held their strings.

Much like Ainz Ooal Gown holds mine, he thought bitterly.

With a frustrated sigh, Jircniv put the papers back into the archives. There must be a mistake then. The image woven by the reports showed a Theocracy that was still vehemently opposed to anything the Sorcerer-King did.

He sighed and reached for a quill to start writing orders. He would have to review the state and competency of his people after this, to make sure they were still competent. It was laughable to assume they hadn't been compromised by the Sorcerer-King, but at the very least he needed people who knew what they were doing, and would give him accurate information.

A few days later, the response came to his written command.

And inside his chambers, Jircniv had another jolly good laugh.

His people had not made a mistake. They had even gone so far as to intercept one of the messages that had been sent by the Theocracy to the Sorcerous Kingdom.

In it, a Cardinal—an actual Cardinal—had petitioned Ainz for a visit, either coming from the Theocracy or the other way around. It was so blatant that Jircniv did not even have to assume that this was part of some trick. For one, the Theocracy would have to know that such a ploy would not work on the immensely powerful Ainz. And secondly, if they did go through with this attempted ploy, their only reward would be an enraged Sorcerer-King and the utter annihilation of their nation.

No, this was definitely a warming of relations between the two nations.

He started pacing the room. How could this have happened? When had it happened?

And more importantly: what was going to happen, if the impossible had indeed happened? If the Sorcerous Kingdom and the Slaine Theocracy actually made an accord?

No, an alliance was out of the question. Such a blatant union of two powerful nations was bound to provoke a reaction from the other nations. He knew Ainz was not a fool who did not recognize the inherent danger of rousing the suspicion of the dragon-lords. His cunning had already been demonstrated with the "Peace Summit".

But friendly relations did not necessarily mean a formal alliance. Perhaps a loosening of trade restrictions could be agreed. If that happened, then it would reopen his own Empire's markets to that of the Theocracy's, which was known to be very lucrative. He had personally witnessed the balancing of accounts when the Theocracy had cut off all trade with them, citing "risk of proliferation of dangerous influences"—it had been a severe economic downturn that had not been helped by the subsequent obligations they had to make as vassals. Thankfully, his nation had not succumbed to chaos but had survived: ironically due to the aid of the Sorcerer-King, whose export of goods and services were in high demand, to say nothing of the market for the once-rare rune weapons from the reopened dwarf kingdom, which came soon after that.

And yet that left the Empire wholly dependent on Ainz, which was never a good thing.

He clucked his tongue. If Ainz was really going to accept this new paradigm, then Jircniv should preempt him by petitioning the reopening of markets now. But no, that would perhaps be too presumptuous. If he were to frame it as asking a favor, then the cruel cunning of that undead would see him impose new obligations on the Empire, perhaps by introducing laws that would limit their autonomy.

He wanted to beat his head onto the table, as more and more plans were made up and discarded by the second. Eventually, he sat down and forced himself to relax. He signaled for an aide, and one came inside the room within seconds.

"My lord Emperor."

"Summon my knights," he commanded. As the aide bowed to leave, he muttered to himself, "High time for another visit to the den of doom." His jaw quivered, as he recalled being in that vast chamber, surrounded by all those monstrosities. He reached for the drawer and took one of the tonics that would aid his anxiety. He unstopped the cork from the opening with cold, clammy fingers.

But there was no other choice. This could not be left to just sending a letter and waiting for an answer. There had to be a frank discussion between them, hopefully to remind Ainz that as per the signed accords he was still a vassal with many rights, rights that Ainz had formally recognized by affixing his seal.

Hopefully such perceived presumptuousness would not lead to the undead flaying his soul and using him as a meat puppet to prop up the Empire.

He took a long swig of the tonic and shuddered.

He just had to be very careful.

---

The picture that was being woven in her mind of the Dark Hero Momon was complicated, to put it delicately. The man was a virtual unknown, with a background that didn't make sense. That wasn't usually good, as that usually meant he was a Player of some sort, an existence that could go in any number of unpredictable ways. His claims of having a home in a "distant place" seemed rather suspect, even if the mortals took it as face value. As a dragon-lord with a reach that extended across many lands and many realms, Tsaindrocs would have known of the existence of such a powerful being first, even as a rumor, before he had ever appeared here at the human kingdoms.

Still, him being a Player would not matter in the end, if his qualities were at the very least presentable, and of course if he were possessed of distinctly good and rational moral fiber. Such qualities would be very much needed if he was to replace Azuth as her mortal champion. And that man had been a competent and loyal underling, even when riddled with vice and with middling heroic sensibilities.

Momon on the other hand, despite his questionable background, made Azuth look like an uncouth bandit in comparison.

"…And that concludes my report," said the voice on the other side of the Message spell.

The dragon-lord opened its eyes. It stretched its wings and opened its jaws wide, as if it was yawning. It returned a message through the telepathic bond. The human was many thousands of miles away, inside one of the new cities birthed from the Re-Estize Kingdom's corpse. "Very good. You have done well. Return to your duties and await further instructions."

"We are ever glad to be of service to you, oh benefactor," said the human, before the connection terminated.

Here, deep in the bowels of dead, silent Eryuentia, none could hear its great guardian roar, the fearsome sound echoing out into the dusty, abandoned streets, and thence to be lost in the sandy dunes far beyond the city's reaches.

But it was not a roar of anger, nor of frustration. For those who knew how dragons actually sounded, it was a more complicated roar—a mix of delight, of trepidation, and of wonder perhaps. None but a fellow dragon-lord could have ever detected such nuances.

Far below, it could sense the soul of another: her former companion and current visitor, who had just recently arrived in the city. She had not formally called upon her yet, and the dragon allowed her that indulgence, for being old acquaintances. Rigrit had chosen to camp out in the ruins of the city instead of sharing the comforts of the floating edifice. For a moment, it wondered if it had woken her from sleep. Then the dragon-lord's attention returned to its own turbulent thoughts.

For just as the dragon's roar echoed out to be lost into the desert, so too did its roar echo into the very depths of its heart.

The mortal man, whether or not he was indeed a human, was a Hero in all but name. He was strong, certainly, and his skills were not in doubt. It had been enough to propel him into the adamantite-level ranks, despite being a relative newcomer in those lands. He had four major accomplishments to his name: first, he had thwarted the Zuranon uprising at E-Rantel. Next, he had destroyed the vampire lord Henyopenyoko—a creature that had taken the dragon itself by surprise. Third, he had successfully dueled Jaldabaoth to a draw, repelling him from the Re-Estize capital and preventing a greater tragedy; and judging by how it had ravaged the Holy Kingdom, it had been a very near thing. And lastly, he had been appointed as guardian of E-Rantel, after swearing to fight Ainz Ooal Gown to the death should any harm befall the citizens.

Yet strength alone was not all that could define a Hero, or the Sorcerer-King would be one. No, there were more qualities that earn them that moniker. The word itself, admittedly, only existed in the dragon's mind. The humans did not seem to think of him as a hero, but just as another overly strong adventurer who would help put the world to rights. The years of peace and serenity that had been bought dearly by her own efforts and that of fallen comrades in the past had dulled the common mortal's senses. There were no Heroes, just adventurers doing their jobs. Injustice and evil was rife, infesting every corner of the land, and yet it was only through its own selfish, self-destructive nature that prevented it from ruling over all.

This Momon was someone who could put it all to rights, and it was a pity that few seemed to see it. Perhaps only she could see the remarkable spirit that lay within the black suit of armor.

Her pawns had woven for her a vivid tapestry of the man from the very start of his adventures unto the present day. The Adventurer's Guild always kept a good, comprehensive ledger of all the people who had ever served on her behalf. The dragon-lord had pawns positioned at high places inside the Guild, ready to serve by giving her information on certain individuals as was needed. In this way, she was also able to see the records of the jobs and quests that the man had undertook.

Momon seemed to have insisted from the very start on finding tougher work for himself and his partner. It was the sort of arrogance that was expected of newbie adventurers. There were even written attestations of the staff who had personally encountered the warrior at the Guild. They recalled how he cut an intimidating figure as he loomed over all, clad in his black plate armor, which gleamed as if it had been recently forged. He had asked for a more challenging quest than what was available after he had put up his name for registration. When nothing could seemingly be done for him, another group had proposed joining forces to undertake a quest that had already been taken.

Here, the dragon-lord could see an early glimpse of the man's character. Rather than be insulted that another low-ranker had deigned to give him scraps, he had eagerly jumped on the opportunity. Even further, he had even agreed to split the prospective reward. As the observer noted, there wasn't even a hint of haggling.

One could say that he was intent on proving himself, just to rush through the ranks. A man as well-prepared as Momon could indeed be willing to forego "lesser" rewards if it meant that one could just keep boosting up the ranks of the Guild, where rank and privilege awaited, along with more lucrative jobs.

And yet assumption would not explain Momon's next decision. As luck would have it, the local alchemist's nephew had put up another job of his own, this one ranked higher than that which the other group had taken. The young man had proposed to Momon that he should take his job instead. A man who was really in it for fame would have agreed immediately, and left the other group in the dust.

But instead, Momon had moved to decline the young man, and his more lucrative job. He said that he had already promised his aid to the other adventurer group, and stated that he was not one to go back on his word. He would not budge, not even when the other group insisted that he just take the job.

Many would sneer at this decision and call him foolish and stubborn, to continue clinging to honor even when the circumstances changed. But the dragon-lord saw it as something different. Here was a man who had principles, who would not compromise when it came to his honor. And he didn't even seem to resent the choice, as if such sentiments were only a product of his past, and that he was being forced to be honorable because of it. According to the observers who recorded the whole conversation, Momon seemed to consider this very seriously.

Perhaps the young man had sensed that conviction in him, and that was why he had eventually agreed to also hire the other group, thereby combining the two jobs together. In doing so, this created a situation that was both heartwarming and tragic. The former for showing a glimpse of what Momon was truly like, and the latter being an omen of what was about to come next.

The events that happened next were far more storied, and even she had recalled hearing it when she had passed through those lands herself.

It had been right about the time she had encountered that powerful vampire, Henyopenyoko. She had heard of an attempted undead uprising by Zuranon at the city of E-Rantel. Their schemes were fortunately foiled by sir Momon and the local Adventurer's Guild. It was a troublesome thing, as even if Zuranon would eventually be evicted, whether by the Kingdom or by her, their success would have meant a blight that could not be easily cleansed if at all. It would only add to the organization's power. And that, by extension, would add to the power of "that one". So Momon's timely intervention saved a lot more lives than he probably knew.

But she had not known that the previous situation had been linked to this major event. To make a long story short, the other adventurer group who had offered to share with Momon had been caught up in Zuranon's schemes and died. The alchemist's nephew who had offered the job had also been captured, and Momon had then vowed to the alchemist that he would bring him back. These were the actions of a heroic man, who did not shirk from the danger ahead. A typical adventurer would have waited for instructions, or to be part of a greater army to maximize his survival. Momon had not needed to wait for any promise of a reward—he had charged straight ahead to protect the weak and the innocent as any true hero must.

Once the crisis had been resolved, it had been expected that the man would stay and soak in the adulation of the town he had saved. But Momon accepted nothing else but the promotion in rank, before he departed to seek further adventures. One might have thought this was actively snubbing the nobles who would have feted the man and showered him with praise. Whether or not Momon was aware and was just actively avoiding getting entangled in local society, none could really say.

Momon took on other jobs in other cities, minor jobs on the surface of it, easily completed even when they were of higher rank than his very first one. They were all recorded on the Guild's ledgers for her to peruse. The very next major event was the slaying of the vampire Henyoponyoko, who had bested the dragon-lord's Armor. For this, he earned the rank of adamantite, and proved to her eyes that he indeed had great power, to be able to overcome that vampire. It was here that the mortals of the Kingdom sat up and took notice, for he and his partner had become only one of three adamantite-levels in all the land.

But Momon seemed largely unconcerned with all that, as he returned to a cycle of accepting and turning in Guild requests. What was most remarkable about Momon's actions during this time was the fact that sometimes he would perform acts of charity without any sort of prompting.

For example, on one particular occasion he had saved a certain village from a group of rampaging monsters. The monsters would have needed whole squads of mithril ranks to kill, along with a good battle plan or there'd be casualties. But Momon accomplished it only by himself. But rather than accept the large extra reward that would have been divided to pay for other groups, Ainz instead donated it to the alderman of the village, to pay for reconstructing the farms and structures that had been damaged by the monsters.

It was a selfless act in her eyes, because one would expect the typical "self-centered altruist" to seek rewards some other way, such as garnering fame for some political move. It would have been easy for him to advertise his strength and petition a noble or even the King for all sorts of favors. But Momon remained committed to his ideals, and sought nothing else but the completion of his tasks. He was certainly somewhat aloof, and gained that reputation among the Guild as an unsociable sort. After every job he was always spotted soon enough in another city, taking on another difficult job.

Momon next proved his might during Jaldabaoth's first appearance at the Re-Estize Capital. Before that he was also involved in some political matter that she had been aware of, being as it involved Blue Rose, her friend Rigrit's pet group. But when she looked further into it, Momon's involvement had only been somewhat token, and had not been colored by any biases towards any political group nor with any aspirations towards temporal power. It had just been another job to him, sanctioned by the Guild. If there was anyone at fault it would be the Guildmaster for even accepting such a politically tainted job, and one that could hardly be blamed on Momon for accepting.

After that monumental event of driving away Jaldabaoth and preventing a greater massacre, he continued traveling once more, doing what adventurers—no, what heroes did. And he was always committed to the honor that he had displayed during his very first day. He was selfless, courageous, and honorable.

It was very remarkable that there had been no attempts to recruit him to a cause, as of Blue Rose and Red Drop. He certainly possessed the skills. And yet the explanation was very simple. He was not the sort who entangled himself with such petty things, and was simply content to travel the land as a hero might.

One would have expected that such righteousness would draw detractors and envious enemies aside from admirers, as she had personally witnessed before. Perhaps there were, but they had not made a move on Momon as of now.

The last and major event in his life was in the aftermath of E-Rantel's annexation by the Sorcerer-King. In this event, he proved beyond all measure that inside his chest beat the true heart of a hero.

When Ainz Ooal Gown's minions threatened to oppress the citizens who lived in E-Rantel, it was Momon and only Momon who stood up for them all. He threatened to fight the Sorcerer-King even at the expense of his own life, pitting his power against the undead lord. While it was unclear which one would really triumph, Ainz Ooal Gown had an entire nation of minions under him, and so the odds were stacked in his favor. But surely such a man as mighty as Momon would deal some grievous blow to Ainz before dying, so it was logical that the wily lich would refrain from risking himself.

They settled on a compromise, whereby Momon would become Ainz's "vassal". So long as he was there to protect E-Rantel, Ainz would not lift a hand to oppress the citizens. And so far, this unholy pact had been kept, and Momon became known all around the world for his valiant sacrifice.

It galled her heart to think of such a noble spirit being caged by that unsavory creature. But there was no one else with the strength to assist Momon. Even she had not paid any attention to him at the time, only knowing him as an adventurer who had dared to stand up to the Sorcerer-King.

The dragon-lord sighed. Now things were different. Now that she had taken a glimpse at his past, she was faced with an undeniable fact.

Momon was so like him. The paragon of goodness, the hero who had once walked this world together with her. The body was different, and this was a completely different person, with their own desires, their own dreams, their own lives. But the soul, the heart was surely the same.

And to think that she had even discounted him as a candidate at first, for being affiliated (even against his will) with the Sorcerer-King. But the truth of the matter was far more complicated than was the initial assumption, and so she was glad to have been proven wrong.

That was why she had to meet him! She had to speak to him, look him in the eyes and find out the truth for herself. Only would then would she offer him the chance to make an accord with her, to become allies and hopefully oppose the Sorcerer-King and his wicked plots.

"A coin for your thoughts, dragon-lord," came the voice of Rigrit, from below her.

The dragon inclined its head towards her. She had sensed her coming, but since she wasn't hostile, she'd not stirred from her thoughts. "I apologize for disturbing your sleep."

Rigrit made a dismissive gesture. "I can sleep anytime, anywhere else. But I was curious about that roar of yours. It sounded… melancholy somehow."

The dragon could not fault the old human for her perspicacity. She had spent long years with her, after all, and had therefore learned the nuances of her roars as if she were a dragon herself. "It is nothing."

"I know what it is," Rigrit said, a sly expression on her wrinkled face. "You were thinking about the leader, weren'tcha?"

The dragon's eyes widened. "W-what would make you even think that?" Her voice rumbled in her throat, like the crashing of boulders. But she was not angry, and regained her composure quickly. "What news, then, do you bring? You've returned rather quickly. I had not expected you to be here until at least another few months."

"Only because I thought I would not be getting a response to my request so quickly. And also because I'd been hearing some rumors about what's going on down south. You hear about the Re-Estize Kingdom's dissolution?"

"Of course," she replied. How could she not? She had been in constant contact with her representatives at the Council State, to stay informed about what was going on, as well as to present her own opinions on certain important matters. She had also maintained a connection to the delegation that had been sent to Ainz Ooal Gown's "Peace Summit", and had therefore been informed about what was going on there after every adjourned gathering.

Even after analyzing everything that was happening there, she could still not fathom as to what Ainz Ooal Gown's intention was. The most telling and obvious conclusion that could be gleaned from the dissolution was that splitting the Kingdom apart would allow the Sorcerer-King to annex it all in piecemeal—an easier thing to do rather than annexing the Kingdom completely and earning the ire of the other nations, especially herself. Turning the nation into a vassal was an option, but it was too soon after vassalizing the Empire, and having King Zanac as a second vassal would still be rather threatening to the other nations. So manipulating Zanac to divest himself of his kingship and allow the rise of new nations would only be helping Ainz Ooal Gown in the long run.

If that was the case, then those like the dragon-lord were already aware of it, and were already preparing countermeasures. No matter how benevolent this undead lord might seem, it was never good to take what any of it said at face value.

"I've also been to Naru-Lorel…" Rigrit remarked. "It's all still a bit rough, but apparently it's off to a good start. With proper guidance, it might become another force to be reckoned with down there."

"They will need to be," she replied.

"Do you foresee some sort of conflict?" Rigrit asked, rubbing her chin pensively.

"There will ever be conflict. When the Kingdom was one, this conflict lay unseen beneath the lone banner of their King. Yet with the end of royal façade will such conflicts be seen for all again."

"So it'll be a blood bath," Rigrit said, shaking her head.

"I shall not allow Argland to commit to anything, unless the Sorcerer-King moves," the dragon said. "Naru-Lorel may be as adventurous as they want, but their leash shall be necessarily short." If the new country wanted to start gobbling up the rest in bloody battles, that was their prerogative—except when it came to Ainz Ooal Gown. If he started making moves, then this nation would need to become a suitable pawn where the Re-Estize Kingdom had failed.

"Well enough about gloomy stuff," Rigrit waved a hand. "What's more important is Evileye, right? I got her response right here."

"Indeed?" the dragon asked. The response in question was that sent by Rigrit to her favorite, the creature who had been known as Landfall. However, that was not the most important part. She was Momon's mate, a fact that surprised her, considering what she knew of Landfall. She leaned forward, however subconsciously. "And what did she say?" Landfall was therefore a link to Momon, whom her network of pawns had been completely unable to find.

"The Crybaby apologized for the infrequent replies, and told me that she's been tending to Lakyus. Also, that she would be interested in meeting up. But," Rigrit raised a finger. "Only… Only after her child has already been born. Apparently, this was a joint decision between herself and Momon. You and I both know how difficult it would be to force a parent to do anything, especially if it involves their child."

"It's fine. It would not do to meddle in their privacy," she replied. While she was desperate to talk to Momon, she also would not assert herself over Landfall, who might end up resenting her as a busybody in what was clearly a private relationship.

"Really?" Rigrit asked. "Oh great dragon, did you not tell me it was of the 'utmost importance' to be able to speak with Momon as soon as possible? That the man is notoriously slippery, and that this opportunity should be undertaken?"

"As I said, it does not matter. I am not that impatient," she replied, huffing out a hot breath. "Did you tell them about me?"

"Like you requested. I described the armor 'you' would be wearing. I'd lay odds she's gonna recognize you, not that it's a problem. And sir Momon might be curious, though we can't be sure if he'll sense you for what you really are."

"Then we shall see." She could not possibly speak to Momon as herself, the great dragon. No, she needed to prepare the way first, smoothing out their relationship before committing all the way to a great plunge.

"Well, whichever way it goes, the meeting'll be very eventful, I can already tell," Rigrit said. "And trust me, these old bones can sense things like these." Her sly look returned. "And they're also telling me another thing. My lord dragon, surely you aren't… interested in Momon? After all these centuries, has another caught your mighty eye?"

When she didn't reply, Rigrit's expression frozen, and she stared wide-eyed up at the dragon. "… I… what? Was I actually right…?"

"I have peered into his past, that is true," she replied. "And I see potential there. It is clear to all with the eyes to see it. With the right guidance, he can be just as great as 'him'—greater, even."

"Now that is certainly a surprise. When I agreed to your request, I wasn't expecting this," Rigrit muttered to herself. "So, my dear dragon, what would happen—if—he indeed ends up possessing the same 'spirit' of justice and nobility as him?"

The dragon-lord didn't answer, and perhaps that was already answer enough. She peered out over silent Eryuentia, lost in a haze of thoughts. In what-might-have-beens. In what should have been. And in what might yet be.

That one's soul was like the rarest treasure, more precious than any gemstone that any dragon could hoard. And yet she had let it slip through her talons, a regret that pains her like a talon to this very day.

The dragon knew that if she found another soul so like the one she cherished, then she would not hold back.

She would not deny her feelings a second time.

---

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