This fic is as much a "What if" as well as a slight Alternate Universe... where the people of the Holy Kingdom have a bit more brains than in canon and not everything goes as perfectly as Demiurge or Ainz expected.


Goodwill can't be resurrected

Neia woke up with a start. She snapped her head around, sword clenched in hand, only to discover it was dawn. Confused, she took in her surroundings.

All around her she found the makeshift camp of the paladin delegation. There were the dying embers of a campfire surrounded by bed rolls. No one was asleep. Paladins either sat around the embers, tending to their equipment, or stood around, staring off the horizon for threats or deep in thought.

Further away, glaring at a miniscule E-Rantel in the distance, was the Captain, stout and furious, next to an exhausted looking Vice-Captain. Neia grimaced and pulled herself off her bedroll. She was quickly greeted with curt nods from the paladins. One of them gave her a loaf of stale bread and a tired smile. She gave a respectful nod but did not smile back. Neia knew she wasn't the sort of girl that had been born to smile, after all, not with her creepy hateful-looking eyes. She accepted the food without a word and worked to swallow it down.

Neia looked to a side, and her stomach twisted into knots. Her hunger, which was already close to nonexistent, all but vanished as she saw the remnants of the two paladins lost the previous day, covered in sheets and prepared for burial. With a grimace, she forced herself to keep eating.

No matter how much she tried to stop herself, Neia's mind wandered back to what had happened the previous day.

After the incident in E-Rantel, the delegation had swiftly retreated. Unfortunately, their horses were already dead tired. The paladins had rushed their steeds to their limits to reach E-Rantel, so it would have been impossible to escape the country. The Captain, the stubborn woman that she was, had them stay and make camp, even if it meant the Sorcerer Kingdom would just show up to kill them all. By that point, though, none of the Paladins argued or cared; not even Neia felt like thinking about the stupidity of just waiting around.

Neia, much like the paladins near her, sighed despondently.

All hopes had been dashed away. Truth was, any goodwill the paladins had towards the undead ruler of E-Rantel had evaporated. They had all been willing to look past the undead's bloody history and his race, and they had all been more than willing to show the respect a king was due. Now, though, all paladins felt like they should have never expected anything good from an undead king.

The Captain was the worst of the lot. She believed the undead king had planned everything that had transpired at the gate. She even went as far as to claim that the promised workshop would have been given by some monstrous man-eating creature just to taunt them. The Vice-Captain, thankfully, was far more reasonable, but even he had lost any faith that the Sorcerer King could be trusted. In his eyes, the King either was inconsiderate and uncaring about humans (being an unfeeling undead), or plainly tyrannical.

Neia, though, hoped the undead king proved them all wrong. She desperately wanted to believe their mission could be salvaged. Otherwise, what chances did they have to save their country?

Neia glanced at the dead paladins, and her face scrunched in sorrow.

They had been good men, but more importantly trained fighters that would were needed if they hoped to save their countrymen. They were already lacking in forces as it was without losing them on a diplomatic mission. True, there were far superior individuals back at their home base. Still, it was a heavy loss, especially with what they had lost already.

Worse, though, Neia felt terrible for failing to remember their names. She closed her eyes, trying to remember, only for the image of one of them glaring down at him, undead eyes burning towards her. She shivered and shook her head. Yet that memory, of having the zombie-like creature crawling all over her, remained at the edge of her consciousness.

For some reason, the paladin next to her gave Neia a pitying look, one Neia might have called sympathetic, before giving her a reassuring pat on her shoulder. The young woman was left dumbfounded by the gesture. It was, after all, the first time anyone had shown such a thing – at least, someone who wasn't her father or mother.

Left confused and uncomfortable, Neia swallowed the last of her breakfast and went to her bedroll. From amongst her belongings, she picked her bow and quiver. The bow was unstrung and, seeing as they might be attacked at any moment, she decided it was time to change that. The wood could also use some polishing.

Dad would be really angry if he saw this, Neia thought with a sad smile. She could imagine her father scolding her for the poor maintenance of her bow.

"There comes another one," grunted someone.

Neia pried her eyes from her bow and saw a skeleton approaching the group a few hundred feet away. From the distance, she was able to tell it was yet another Skeletal Warrior, this one slightly stronger than the last one they faced the day before. With chainmail, a kite-shield and glistening sword, the foolish monster looked eager to pick a fight.

Neia shook her head and went back to work, ignoring how a pair of the paladins stomped over to the undead and defeated it. Admittedly, Neia found the naturally spawning undead a much better alternative to the monsters in her country.

until the Sorcerer King sends someone to demand an explanation, grimly thought Neia.

A part of her shuddered at the thought of seeing more of those horrible Death Knights. Would the King send them or perhaps even a stronger type? Neia wasn't sure, and she didn't really want to know. With any luck, the King would be understanding, forgiving even, but Neia doubted it.

He's undead, she reminded herself. Why would he care about dead paladins?

She squashed those thoughts. She needed to remember all hopes of liberating her country fell on said undead monarch. If there was only a sliver of hope that he could provide what they had been looking for, then Neia would hold onto it with all her might. After all, they didn't have anything else.

It was as Neia was done with her bow and she was testing the string that the Vice-Captain interrupted their pity-party.

"Men, look sharp," Gustav said.

All heads turned to E-Rantel. Even from the distance, they could tell there was movement on the side road that led to their little camp. At once, they all stood up and prepared themselves. They all exchanged looks, wondering if they would prepare for a fight. However, given how Gustav and the Captain had yet to draw their weapons, they all nervously stood in attention, swords in their sheaths.

From a distance, instead of a hunting party, a slow seemingly peaceful procession rolled out to meet them. Neia could see banners fly in the wind and a dark figure at the head. Neia's heart clenched as soon as she managed to make out the first details. Her sharp eyes recognized the leader of the incoming party almost immediately: it was the Sorcerer King.

In pitch black robes and scary burning red eyes, the skeletal creature was an undead unlike anything Neia had seen. None of her books or lectures back at the Holy Kingdom had prepared her to see such a creature. Instead, Neia was shocked by how accurate the statues at E-Rantel's gate had been. The undead horse the king it rode was little better; it looked like a skeletal horse, yet alit with spectral golden flames. Neia recognized that undead, and so did the Vice-Captain.

"A Soul Eater," grunted a despondent Vice-Captain with a wry smile. "Figures the undead king had more legendary undead under his command."

"How strong is it?" Neia heard the Captain ask in a not-so-soft whisper.

"Hard to tell," said the Vice-Captain. "Maybe as strong as the Death Knight we faced yesterday, maybe stronger. These undead are supposed to be extremely uncommon so there isn't that much information about them… only that any place they show up is followed by countless death and destruction."

The Captain 'tched' and her grasp on a sheathed Safarlisia tightened. Neia didn't need to be a mind-reader to know the Captain probably thought she could take on the Soul Eater and Sorcerer King… or that at least she really wanted to.

Now it not the time to be stupid, Captain, Neia mentally prayed. We need this king's favor!

Escorting their king, Neia spotted rows of undead soldiers clad in golden enchanted armor. Thankfully none was like the monstrous thing they had faced the day before. They carried banners of the Sorcerer Kingom (at least, Neia suspected they were that) and marched rigidly and perfectly to a steady pace. There was another figure with the King, though, and Neia got the impression it wasn't an undead.

As the procession got closer, Neia's heart dropped as she finally managed to understand just what was accompanying the King. Beautiful and elegant, it was a woman of unparalleled beauty of a sort that could have made even Remedios blush and be flustered. Silky black hair, courteous body and divine smile, she should have impressed them with a mere glance… hadn't she been a very specific sort of non-human.

"Demon," Neia heard the Captain growl.

She wasn't the only one displeased by the revelation. Even the Vice-Captain grinded his teeth and shook his head, probably unable to believe that, as unlikely as it was, the Captain had been right: Ainz Ooal Gown was master of demons as much of the undead and demi-humans.

Could this be some kind of insult towards us? Neia's traitorous mind thought, only to shake her head and push down those thought. No, he doesn't know about our plight… right? And besides, we can't judge all demons. Just because all demons we've faced – and all the ones recorded in our history - are evil dastardly fiends doesn't mean this one – that serves a murderous undead – is any different… right?

The Captain, on the other hand, had her own wild opinions to share.

"Do you think Jaldabaoth works for the Sorcerer King?" Remedios asked.

"Wh- huh?" Spluttered a flummoxed Vice-Captain.

Only Captain Remedios could leave poor Gustav so thunderstruck.

"The Sorcerer King," Remedios said, "could he be allies with Jaldabaoth? You know, two crazy powerful monsters?"

"Why would you – no, I really doubt that. I mean, it appears that this undead controls demons – and particularly high-tier demons by the looks of it - but that hardly means the Sorcerer King has any ties with Jaldabaoth," the Vice-Captain said.

"You sure? It can't be coincidence Jaldabaoth invaded our country so soon after that filthy undead took over E-Rantel," the Captain hissed, glaring at the procession. "Those two appeared way too close in time to be a coincidence!"

The Vice-Captain just sighed and shook his head. As much as he disliked demons, he found the Captain's wild theories little better than ridiculous conspiracies.

"I doubt it, Captain," said Gustav. "And please, let's at least hear what this undead king has to say before we throw any accusations."

"I don't like it," growled the Captain.

"If it is any comfort, Captain, I don't like this either," sighed the Vice-Captain.

Thankfully, the Captain remained silent after that. Neia, on the other hand, studied the procession. At a slow pace, they didn't appear to hold any ill-intentions. The demoness accompanying the king was clad in a white dress and the undead seemed only to hold the banners. Neia, though, found the marching undead a tad too intimidating, perhaps due to their close resemblance to the Death Squire that had almost attacked her the previous day.

The king's party halted a cautionary thirty feet away from the paladins, who had remained standing, proud and angry. Unbidden, the Captain and Vice-Captain walked forward, just as a dismounted undead King and his demoness went forth to meet them. They each paused some distance from each other.

Finally, they were following actual protocols for once.

"You stand in the presence of his majesty and supreme ruler of the Sorcerer Kingdom, Ainz Ooal Gown," announced the knight.

Huh, what a pretty voice, Neia thought, surprised by the strong yet feminine voice. There was something melodically about it, even alluring.

"Careful, Neia," said the paladin next to Neia, nudging her. "That demon most likely is the type with Tantric manipulation powers."

The young woman was surprised to be addressed by her first name. It also made her feel guilty, for she couldn't recall that paladin's name. Neia had been too focused on their mission, and isolated as the only lowly squire in the delegation, she had forgone her comrades…

"Th-thanks," mumbled Neia, before she focused back on the quartet in front.

The Captain, in a shocking display of self-restraint, managed to avoid scowling at the king and other non-humans. Her hand, though, didn't leave Safarlisia's hilt. Thankfully, the Vice-Captain stepped forward.

"Greetings… your majesty… we are the Paladins of the Holy Kingdom," the Vice-Captain, even when tired and visibly annoyed, said with his chest puffed up with pride.

Neia knew that the Vice-Captain hadn't been rude by any means, but it was clear he wasn't being nice either. The fact he did not introduce himself or the Captain was telling: they did not fully trust the undead king. She glanced around at the stony faced paladins. Some had their helmets on, but all their hands were on their swords; they too couldn't trust the undead any less. In their eyes, he was the culprit for the death of their comrades, after all.

"Well met, brave Paladins…"

Neia blinked at the deep imperious voice of the undead king. She had expected a regal tone, yet the accompanying voice was quite fitting for a monarch. Still, it was intimidating, and those burning red eyes made her shudder and instinctively glance at the dead paladins, waiting to be properly buried. She could still remember the undead one who had been in the process of killing her, its life-hating gaze set on her.

"…I have come to humbly apologize for what transpired yesterday. It was never the intention of my kingdom to receive a foreign delegation as badly as we did. I understand that apologies will not bring back your fallen comrades, but I beg forgiveness nonetheless," solemnly said the monarch.

Neia was actually quite impressed when the undead bowed respectful at them. She stared in disbelief, actually. However, Neia felt rather uncomfortable with the apology.

Now that some of them had died they were treated like a proper delegation? How were they even supposed to respond? The king thought it was a good idea to have monstrous undead get the jump on travelers with only cryptic half-assed warnings.

"We… thank you for your time, your majesty," the Vice-Captain softly said. Neia did not miss the way he brushed off the apology entirely. "We also wish to apologize for destroying one of your servants and harming another."

The apology came off as hollow and insincere. The undead king, though, didn't appear to notice or mind.

"That's quite alright," said the king. "I am actually relieved you managed to survive the ordeal. It shows poor foresight on my part. Perhaps I should have put more thought on the gate guards."

"My Lord-" the demon started to protest.

"Enough," the king told his knight. "That being said, I am quite impressed by your skills. You were able to achieve an impressive feat; few people could hope to withstand a Death Knight, much less defeat one."

"We are Paladins," boasted the Captain, smacking a fist on her chest. "We are trained and ordained to kill evil fiends such as the undead anywhere we go!"

It does help you have a unique holy sword that has an ultimate holy ability, though, doesn't it, Captain? Thought Neia, annoyed at the Captain's smugness.

Then, it struck her. It suddenly occurred to Neia that the words of the Captain may have come off as a threat to the King. She internally sighed; they were going to be killed at that rate.

"I-I see," hummed the King.

Neia frowned with confusion. Had the king just choked for a moment there? No, that must have been Neia's imagination.

"I didn't mean you, of course," the Captain awkwardly amended.

The Paladins held their groans of exasperation, the Vice-Captain pinched the bridge of his nose, and the Captain scrunched her face, unrepentant. Again, a tense silence ensured.

Neia grimaced. Yep, they were screwed.

"Very well," the King finally said after clearing his throat (why did he even do that? He doesn't have a throat, though, does he?). "With that said, may I ask what brought your people to my country?"

The Captain and Vice-Captain exchanged looks, and after she nodded at him, the Vice-Captain once again spoke up.

"Your majesty," Vice-Captain said. "We've come from the Roble Holy Kingdom in the search of aid to defeat the evil demon known as Jaldabaoth. The demon has brought legions of its own kin and is leading thousands of demi-humans from the Abelion hills. It is our hope to be joined by warriors of renown, such as Momon of Darkness, to assist us take down this demon fiend before it can properly settle down, reinforce his position and then spread to neighboring countries, such as the Re-Estize Kingdom… or yours."

The king just stared at them, his burning red eyes dying out, only to re-ignite soon after. Neia wondered what that meant.

"I see," calmly said the King.

He then hummed, tilting his head.

"That's quite the request," the undead said. "How bad is the situation in your country?"

Neia wondered if he was testing what they would say or if he sincerely hadn't heard anything about the Holy Kingdom. Back in Re-Estize, rumors were running rampart by the time the delegation made it there, spread by merchants and refugees that had escaped during the invasion. The amount of falsehoods was staggering; from claims that the entire kingdom had fallen to the idea that there were millions of demons and demi-humans rampaging the country. As a wiseman once said: lies run around the world twice before truth even manages to put on its breeches.

"It is hell made real, your majesty," unceremoniously spouted the Vice-Captain. "While many citizens were evacuated, there were those who were captured by the quickly advancing demi-humans. From what we have gathered, all humans captured are being held in prison camps where they are repeatedly tortured or devoured. The South is holding out, but there is no telling for how long. Most of the Northern Army has been killed, captured or retreated."

Neia didn't fail to notice how the Vice-Captain did not mention how all that remained willing to fight for the Northern Holy Kingdom were the remnants of the Paladin order and priests.

"I suppose you wish for help to reclaim your country?" Asked the king.

"At the moment, what we need, is to defeat Jaldabaoth," the Vice-Captain said. "Make no mistake, your majesty, that fiend is an Evil Deity. Its power is unlike anything seen or recorded in our entire history. We fear that unless we stop it now, this Evil Deity will only spread further out and destroy yet more countries. That's why we have come, your majesty; we need to assemble a group of powerful warrior to defeat this evil, before all hope is lost."

There was a long moment of silence.

"You are looking for Heroes," summarized a surprised undead king.

"As of right now, that is what the Holy Kingdom – no, what the entire world needs," stated the Vice-Captain.

"Aren't you trying to reclaim your country?" Wondered the king.

The Paladins, Captain and Vice-Captain included, all grinded their teeth and looked at the king like he was taunting them. Neia averted her eyes.

Of course they wanted to reclaim their country! But they just couldn't do it, not with the forces they had, and not with that monster, Jaldabaoth, on the loose. Only an idiot would launch a reclamation without some powerful backing, and for all her lack of thinking, Remedios Custodio herself recognized Jaldabaoth's power.

"Your majesty, perhaps you are unaware of Jaldabaoth's power, but no matter what offensive or reclamation force we launch, it will inevitable end in failure unless that demon is defeated," said the Vice-Captain. "It single-handedly destroyed our protective wall with one powerful spell. The demon even withstood the combined might of the Paladin Order, the High Priestess and the Holy Queen. Moreover, it has powerful underlings, both more demons and leaders of the Abelion tribes. No one man or individual can defeat it, and sending an army into the country will only be met with defeat."

Again, they were met with silence. For an undead, this king sure was slow on the uptake…

No, the King probably has a superior intellect, one above them all and is adjusting his grand plans and schemes as new information is delivered, thought Neia. Or at least, she wanted to believe this monarch was smart enough to realize the threat Jaldabaoth posed.

"I fail to understand your plans here," the king slowly said, as if processing the words.

"Our plans will depend on who we manage to recruit to our cause, your majesty," stated the Vice-Captain.

It was quite clear to Neia that Gustav would not share his plan of action any time soon, much less to a king he clearly distrusted.

"I-I see," was all the King said.

Neia may have been imagining things once again, but the undead king looked like he was at a loss. She wasn't sure why. Did the King expect the paladins to be more forthcoming?

"And why, pray tell, should I assist you?" The King finally asked.

It was a reasonable question, and yet Neia felt her hopes shrink. How did someone go about selling the idea of risking life, resources and warriors for what was, by all purposes, a lost cause? Somehow, the Vice-Captain knew just how.

"Whether to assist us or not is your prerogative, your majesty," the Vice-Captain said. "Just let it be known that you have the chance to do so now, while Jaldabaoth has all its forces dispersed across our country and the Abelion hills, and while the demon does not expect proper resistance from anyone.

"Be mindful, however, that that shall not be the case in a year or two, when the demi-humans finally settle across the country and, with new ground to breed, multiply into large, stronger numbers. In that time, the demi-humans will have probably scoured the land and possess weaponry and armors had they had long been lacking.

"More importantly, they will no doubt have yet more military experience and strength. Never before have they been so expertly led or united, so in due time they will become an unstoppable force, better used to making use of their strengths and overcoming their previous savage and unorganized tactics.

"We understand why you would not assist us, and we will respect that."

The King slowly nodded.

"Did you come up here for any specific request?"

The Vice-Captain and Captain looked each other.

"We would like to meet with Darkness, the adventurer team, any other remaining adventurers still in E-Rantel as well as any mercenaries, soldiers or the kind which could hopefully be recruited, and if his majesty would be so kind to guide us to warriors of renown in his slave – ehm – his vassal state, the former Baharuth Empire, we would be grateful," proclaimed the Vice-Capitan.

"I see," hummed the undead king. "You do understand any requests must be first approved by me, don't you?"

There was a look of silence in which the delegation all frowned at the monarch.

"So the rumors are true," said the Vice-Captain. "You have taken over the Adventurers' Guild. I'm impressed, your majesty, no other nations have dared to take over a strictly apolitical organization for their own uses."

The accusation was palpable, and Neia squirmed in place. What was the Vice-Captain doing? They needed the king's goodwill! Insulting him wasn't going to help anyone, much less their suffering countrymen.

"I have done no such thing," stated the King immediately.

He sounded offended, and Neia couldn't blame him. Still, she did find it curious how the Vice-Captain omitted how the Holy Kingdom had forced adventurers to assist during the invasion… although even Neia couldn't deny they were different scenarios.

"For starters, there were few adventurers who decided to stay in E-Rantel," said the undead king.

That didn't really surprise the delegation. Neia was sure more than one Paladin wondered if any actual adventurer decided to stay.

"Secondly, my own forces have proven to be more than enough to do the adventurers' jobs," the king added.

That no one doubted. They had first hand-experience on the king's lethal forces.

"Is Momon of Darkness… ehm… available, your majesty?" Asked the Vice-Captain.

"Is he even alive?" The Captain grunted.

The Vice-Captain sighed, exasperated, but didn't apologize either. The King, though, took a moment to stare the Captain, before he gave a simple nod.

"Let me assure you, Momon is alive and well within my country," said the King. "In fact, he has stayed and served as protector of the people, to make sure I do not tyrannize the commoners…"

All paladins (and squire) glanced at the dead comrades and the King appeared to squirm as the delegation turned to him, all expressing the same question: and is he doing a good job at protecting anyone?

"Ah yes, we had heard he… volunteered himself into your service, your majesty?" The Vice-Captain cautiously asked.

"Quite right," boasted the king. "Momon is deeply concerned in the welfare of the common people."

"Like most adventurers, I suppose," snorted the Captain.

"Indeed," said the king, oblivious to the implications of his admission.

Ah, his majesty probably doesn't understand how we view adventurers back in the Holy Kingdom, realized Neia.

One thing Neia didn't really understand was how adventurers were seen as something like heroes in the Re-Estize Kingdom and Empire. To the people of the Holy Kingdom, they were little more than mercenaries, monster-exterminators that only acted for the sake of money. After all, the Holy Kingdom saw it as a public service to exterminate demi-humans, and Paladins, and the Holy Army, did so for free.

Neia eyed the King, from top to bottom. Considering the expensive statues at the gates, the gold staff and grand clothes worn by the undead king, Neia could understand how someone like Momon could be comfortable working for the monarch. Momon probably got a lot of good gold for being the "protector of the people".

Neia shook her head.

No, not all adventurers are like that! Thought Neia, Blue Rose said that Momon…

Suddenly, thinking about that mercenary group left a bitter taste on her mouth. For all their renown, Blue Rose seemed to demand quite a hefty amount of gold for information they should have provided more freely, at least in Neia's opinion. Seriously, why ask for the gold like that for information that should be publically available? Why keep anything about Jaldabaoth so close to their chest?

It had been thanks to Blue Rose's word that they had rushed to the Sorcerer Kingdom. They had believed them, mostly because they somewhat trusted the adventurers and because they were desperate. And yet, Blue Rose hadn't given them the slightest warning of what to expect.

They probably would have demanded an extra bag of gold for that information, angrily thought Neia.

The young woman quickly pushed down those unbecoming thoughts.

I am must be really tired if I am starting to think like the Captain, Neia thought, shaking her head of such thoughts. In the end, she decided Blue Rose was entitled to what they did… even if Neia wished adventurers weren't so greedy.

"Anyway, your majesty," the Vice-Captain finally broke the silence that had befallen the two parties while Neia was lost in thought. "Would you allow us to take adventurers such as Team Darkness to fight this Evil Deity?"

"I am afraid I cannot," said the undead monarch. "They are necessary to ease tensions between human and non-humans citizens. If I were to give them away, there would be unnecessary panic and fear from the people. However, in due time, they should be more than available for hire."

The Captain and Vice-Captain, as well as the rest of the paladins, were not amused. In their eyes, the undead was probably come up with excuses as not to help them. In fact, this wasn't the first time the delegation had heard similar excuses. Neia, though, could understand where the king was coming from… without someone famed like Momon, she too would have lived terrified of those hulking Death Knights.

She glanced at her dead comrades and her shoulders slumped.

Not that having Momon around spared innocents from getting butchered, thought a bitter Neia.

"Before we discuss the availability of Momon, I need to ask," the King hummed. "What kind of remuneration can the Holy Kingdom offer me in exchange for the provision of my nation's aid?"

Again, the delegation was not impressed. It was a reasonable question, that much Neia could concede, but it came off as a bit greedy and thoughtless when he had just been told that an Evil Deity was rampaging the country. It was like asking a beaten desperate child how much he was willing to pay in order to stop his abuser. Still, it was a question that needed to be answered and within his majesty's right.

"As of right now, we could promise gold, lands, titles, trade-deals and many other things," said the Vice-Captain. "However, the situation is still developing, your majesty, and it all depends mostly on how much aid you are willing to provide… and the state of the country after we eradicate the demi-humans."

Sadly, that was the best they could say, for it was the truth, and saying anything other than that would easily be dismissed. All in all, though, it was better than promising something stupid like "my country's friendship, trust, and respect."

Technically, Neia wasn't sure if the Paladins had the authority to make any promises at all. Admittedly, Remedios, as the Captain of the Paladin Order, did have political authority, but Neia wasn't sure how much. Moreover, Neia was sure anything the Captain promised would be shot down by the assholes of the South. Those accursed lords would have to be dealt with eventually.

The king hummed, thoughtful.

"I suppose I should have expected such words," he said. "I apologize for making light of your situation. It is clear we must first assist the people of the Holy Kingdom before we can engage in any talks about rewards. I must admit, you made a good point, this Jaldabaoth needs to be exterminated," said the King.

The Paladins, Neia included, were actually surprised that they had apparently convinced an undead of all things to help them.

"However, dispatching Momon is still very difficult. Even if he dispatches Jaldabaoth, Momon's absence will lead to uneasiness in our political situation and alarm the people. In that case, what should be done? If I had more time to stabilize my nation's internal politics, I would then send out Momon — with his approval, of course."

As one, all paladins visibly deflated and went back to grinding their teeth.

"And, may we ask, how long do you estimate that will take?" Wondered the Vice-Captain.

From the tone in his voice, Neia could guess Vice-Captain wasn't really holding his hopes up. He sounded tired, too exhausted to bring himself to care about anything, and clearly, any trust he had on the king's words had long since vanished. The less was said about the Captain, the better.

"Umu... Albedo, what do you think?"

"After considering the gradual induction of demi-humans into our nation, it will delay the process more than anticipated. It might take a period of several years. Yes... if we had five years, it would not be a problem."

"Just so. I trust you have no questions?"

Neia's heart ached at the number. Five years. That's too long for anything. By that point the Southern Kingdom would have been invaded as well. Hell, the demon bastard would no doubt have moved on to invade another country.

The calmness it was said, though, nearly grated on Neia. They were talking about dealing with a bloody Evil Deity! What was the point of bloody political uneasiness with a demon and his army looming over the horizon?!

No, his majesty is trying his best, right? We knew that Momon might not be available, Neia tried to tell herself.

The Paladins, though, remained there, arms crossed and standing without a hint of emotion. Clearly, they had expected as much.

"Five years, huh?" 'tched' the Captain with annoyance.

"I am sure that's the best his majesty can offer us, Captain," the Vice-Captain said, sharing the same tone as Remedios.

The undead king must have realized how he had came off, being so calm about the rather urgent situation, because he appeared to squirm under the combined stares of the unimpressed delegation and judging eyes of the Captain and Vice-Captain.

"I see... indeed. I ought to have considered your country's situation. After all, it is a request from a friendly nation," quickly amended the monarch.

The Sorcerer King placed particular emphasis on the words "friendly nation." To Neia, is sounded as if he wanted to make clear he wished to assist someone that should be considered close to his own country. The Paladins, though, who bristled, it probably sounded like sarcasm.

"Our country will do our best to accelerate the process. Albedo, what is the minimum time needed to carry this out?"

"In that case, how about three years? However, that might lead to unrest in our country."

"That cannot be helped. We're saving a friendly country, after all. I suppose there will be some loss of life on our part... well, metaphorically speaking."

The Sorcerer King seemed to be making a joke, but nobody was laughing. "..Ahem. Now then, how about that? We've sped it up by two years."

No, all he did was throw arbitrary numbers and promises in the air about a process Neia didn't really understand how it could be calculated in the first place, nor that could be guaranteed. Moreover, Neia wasn't sure what the role of Momon would be in all of it. Clearly, he wasn't that good at keeping anyone safe, and even then, it didn't appear as if the king had received any retribution either for the death of innocents.

If the efforts to "stabilize" the country was anything like the way the king handled the gates to his city, then Neia wasn't sure why the king cared about "unrest". It was clear his servants were free to make short work of dissidents anyway, or anyone who posed a remote threat to his majesty's rule. Hadn't the gatekeeper claimed he had seen the Death Knight slaughter people before?

What kind of king allows that? Neia wondered, only to push down that dismaying thought. No, his majesty must care. He did came to apologize, after all. Maybe he is here and being friendly to us, to make amends lest he incurs Momon's wrath?

While Neia's heart ached at the thought of her country enduring such a long time (for she sincerely hoped upon all hopes that the undead king was actually being sincere), such process of making claims of help and throwing numbers of years wasn't new to the delegation.

Neia could remember many a steward, merchant and minor noble, back in Re-Estize Kingdom, saying pretty much the same:

"We would love to help, but our country has just suffered a terrible massacre! Perhaps in a year or two…"

"The situation of the Kingdom isn't good, my dear, but I am sure the situation will improve enough to help and we will be able to assist your nation in a couple of years!"

"My heart goes out for you, my dear! I will see that supplies are sent… but I can't guarantee anything before the winter is over… and then there is a matter of expenses and acquiring extra funds… that will take a few more months…"

After all, inventing numbers and excuses to extend a deadline of a promise until the issue was long passed was a very polite and political way of saying "I really do not want to help but I do not want to say so".

In other words, it was politics, and the Paladins had long learned to understand the subtext of it.

"Very well, your majesty, we understand," said Vice-Captain. He had such an even tone, clearly conveying he really hadn't expected much better. "If that is what it takes, then we appreciate being forward enough."

He offered a curt and somewhat rude bow before exchanging nods with the Captain.

"We shall depart your kingdom shortly then," said the Captain, sounding like she couldn't wait to leave the gods-forsaken backwater land of death, monsters and who-knows-what else.

"You are already leaving?" Asked a dumbfounded undead king.

Seriously, Neia had to admit the amount of emotions an undead skeleton could emit. How was it even possible?

"Of course, your majesty," grunted the Vice-Captain. "There is an Evil Deity out there that needs killing and thousands of innocents suffering; we can't sit idle for… how long was it, Captain?"

"I think he said three years?" The Captain scoffed. "I suppose that means we have more than enough time to find aid elsewhere… somewhere more inviting, perhaps."

Neia's heart dropped. After the incident the previous day, and the ongoing conversation, it was clear the Captain and Vice-Captain (and perhaps all Paladins) had come to the conclusion that any promise on part of the king would probably not be sincere. Their hopes and expectations, and any trust they might have had that a filthy undead could be fair and just, had died with their subordinates.

It was actually quite amazing how far the paladins had been willing to go for their people… if only their expectations had been met.

"Please, I understand your haste, but wouldn't you prefer to re-supply and rest? I feel obligated to extend my kingdom's hospitality, especially after our failures thus far," the King said.

The paladins, Neia included, traded confused faces. Even the Captain looked surprised.

"Eh… you wish us to stay?" Asked the Captain.

Thankfully, the Vice-Captain quickly jumped in to smooth the dialogue.

"We apologize for our prompt departure, but we arrived for the sole purpose of getting help. We were not fully aware of the very serious and complex internal complications you were facing, your majesty," the Vice-Captain said with practiced ease. "It would be best we depart lest we complicate your very delicate and fragile political situation."

Truth of the matter was that the Paladins (and Neia) had absolutely no idea what was happening inside E-Rantel. If they had to base their opinions on what happened at the gate the previous day, then the King ruled with a murderous brutal army of carnage-happy undead and whatever poor souls were in there quietly endured their suffering, all while the likes of Momon sat back and took in the gold of his majesty, serving as an extra goon in the nefarious forces of the King… if he was still alive, that is.

Shouldn't we try harder? Neia thought. We must do something! Our people are dying and suffering!

And yet, Neia couldn't bring herself to do anything herself. Even she had her doubts about Momon. Could he be dead, slain by the king to have complete control over his domain? Could he be little more than adventurer, sitting on the sidelines until someone offered gold?

That and Neia wasn't so sure this king could be trusted to begin with.

"I see," sighed the dead king. "It saddens me my country has failed in such a manner. Again, I extend my hand of friendship and hope our nations can reach mutual understanding in the future."

"All we hope if for our nations survive, your majesty," said the Vice-Captain. "Thank you for your time, your majesty; we promise we shall not bother you again."

"May I not convince you to at least accept supplies? Perhaps new horses?" The king sounded almost like he was begging them to stay. "The least I can do is try to make up for my egregious failures as ruler of this city."

"My lord!" Albedo gasped, horrified.

"Albedo," warned the king.

The undead being then turned to the delegation with what looked like solemn and genuine interest. Neia was quite touched by the generosity of the king. Clearly, even if he didn't care about the deaths of paladins, perhaps he wished to foster better political relationships. Maybe he was even sincere about Momon…

Thankfully, on the topic of supplies, the Captain and Vice-Captain could agree, if only because they didn't have a choice. The horses weren't going to miraculously recuperate, they needed food and they could all use some calm and peace for once.

Neia glanced once again to her fallen comrades. It seemed that their deaths had been in vain, in the end.

Then again, who was holding up any expectations that a murderous filthy undead who had butchered thousands so callously would be anything but uncaring about their plight?


Author Notes: Second of four chapters.

Next Chapter

If you like this fic, perhaps you'll like my other story, "makings of an Overlord" which is a human(-ish) Ainz slowly growing in power and knowledge into the role of Ruler of the Tomb of Nazarick. It is slow, there is a harem (although Ainz doesn't go screwing everything that moves) and slight (and not so slight) differences from canon, just to explore different things such as unseen character interactions, get more of Pandora, and rare pairings.

Please, review if you can. I'd love to hear what think of this.

Cheers,

The Emerald Commander