VI-2
"Ah so, so, you're into books as well! I am very p-pleased to see this!"
"Yes I... guess I read quite a bit".
Plurimo was looking at a puffy little face that reminded him of a certain someone. Although the person he was talking with was not a female, their traits closely resembled those of a graceful elf lady. Not only that, but the posture, mannerism and skirt worn by his interlocutur simply made him aware that to a certain extent, age and proper skincare can alterate anyone's perception of gender. However, he had not been fooled by this: he was well aware of that elf's gender from the very second he started talking. That was only natural, for Plurimo possessed an innate ability that enhanced his perception of his surroundings, which was crucial to his work. While he may have been just a cog in the machine of war, he was the pivot point around which every other element ran.
However, in that precise moment, he was not at his best, to the contrary, his stamina had been greatly depleted and his tired eyes only asked for a moment of rest. But he knew that such a thing was a luxury that only those who dwell in petty affairs would be able to afford.
He was not such a person, since his role in the defense of the Star City was so vital, he couldn't possibly think of giving in to sleep just about now. And that was because he had figured out the nature of his interlocutor.
No one had ever approached him so casually, yet giving off an aura of extreme power and immeasurable strength. The fact that a tiny little creature, barely taller than him, could emanate such a powerful ki, was proof enough to him that he was facing one of lord Flannar's enemies.
"No doubt he is aware of who I am" he thought to himself while playing for time, "there must be a way to get out of this. But can I even attempt it? ...besides, I'm far too tired".
His mind was giving in to the urge of fleeing. Part of him just wanted to throw his work away and run. He was no coward, but he most certainly valued his life... at times.
The elf smiled at him while holding a large wooden staff in his hands. Plurimo smiled back, a little unnerved by the passive nature of that little devilish creature.
"I was wondering... why did you follow me here?" he asked weakly, trying to put a small distance between himself and that newfound stranger.
"Well I, I took an interest in you, that's all. You, ummm, you seem to be intelligent and capable. I liked that spark in your eyes from the very beginning. And, and, you might be really useful!"
"Useful you say? To you?" Plurimo was frantically searching for a topic, something, anything that would keep the elf busy. His hand reached for the doorknob that would lead his house. He was close, so close he could feel it on his fingertips. he thought. If he could just find the right words to part ways with that creature, he could lock the door, put as many furnitures behind it as he could, and then crash onto his bed for a well deserved night of sleep. It seemed such an easy task, yet so far behind his real possibilities.
"Ah, well me and my friends. And of course, my lord".
"Your... lord?"
"Ummm I dont think I can tell you anything more for now, sorry. I'm not supposed to be talking to you at all to be honest. But, I wanted to be nice. I dont, dont like violence, although some of my friends do. I learned many things lately, you know? I've been traveling all over the world and, umm, I want to know more. About... everything. New perspectives, new ways of thinking and... doing stuff. Can you spare some books to read? Maybe you have some interesting stories to tell, how about that?"
The elf's eyes were bright and cheerful. He seemed sincere. Plurimo wasnt certain, nothing of what was going on made sense to him. On one hand, that conversation was inevitably going to end with him knocked down and captured, but on the other, that almost felt like a possibile way of befriending an enemy combatant. Was that elf really one of the Sorcerer King's grunts? What kind of soldier was he?
Plurimo had seen many regular people, humans and elves alike, being drafted for conscription in his time. He had to serve in the militia for six months as well before the higher ups determined that he was too frail to keep going. Was that the same for the undead armies?
"Nonsense" he thought to himself "the undead are just mindless creatures without fear. They dont need to be drafted, they are being created. Then what is this elf's ultimate goal? Is he here to kidnap me? ... I wish Asta was here. If she was I could just divert his attention to her blabbering and leave".
However, he immediately regretted that thought. Asta, his beloved friend and foe, the one which held a special place in his heart, was no more. The Judge had told him everything, as chief of the municipal R&D's operations and personal guardian, he had a duty to uphold. And so he did to the very end.
As soon as he got told the truth of the situation, his heart had ached however briefly and his mind had been occupied with work alone ever since. If he had stopped to think about that little rascal who so dearly wanted him dead, the girl with whom he had estabilished that twisted relationship of friendship and thrill of death, he might just have had his concentration completely destabilized by a lingering ecstasy that never truly went away after he had met her. No other being had let him experience that kind of disturbing yet compelling feeling.
He knew that there was still hope for her, someone would have surely been able to resurrect her. However he had no knowledge about the matter. Who would even be performing the resurrection and at what cost? Could the Star City even afford losing resources for a single being? Plurimo had thought long and hard about it. Asta was so insignificant in the grand scheme of things, of that he was certain. He himself didnt know what to do with her at times. There were instances in which she had openly defied orders, her brash attitude had caused attrition between the old mayor and the Judge and of course, as a personal friend, he had to be involved in some way or another.
And yet... he knew what he wanted. And he wanted to see her again, just for a little while longer.
As he finished reminiscing about his predicament, he realized that his eyes had averted the elf's gaze for a couple minutes. The little devil had been talking to him for a while it seemed, but he wasn't paying attention. His words were lost in the air like dead leaves.
He looked at his soft, tiny mouth. His lips kept on opening and closing, but all he could hear were boring sounds of vacuous intent.
"Just kill me already" he would've wanted to say, "what are you even talking to me for? You are the enemy. Kill me and conquer the city, quickly. Let it all end before the war even starts. Do this and everyone will be spared".
Suddenly he felt the urge to throw himself at the elf and let him beat his body with that staff. He imagined the gory scene of his skull being mercilessly bashed into, blood sprouting everywhere.
It took a great deal of restraint to not realize that fantasy. But the mere thought gave him a boost of adrenaline and released very pleasant chemicals in his brain. Once again, he felt a little lighter and slightly aroused by the thrill of death.
"Why am I like this..." he muttered while looking at the ground.
"Huh? What are you saying all of a sudden, ummm, did you hear what I just proposed?"
"Ah..."
Plurimo looked back at the elf. He had stopped talking to him. His visage looked slightly upset.
"I'm sorry I must've been spacing out unintentionally. You see, I had a very hard workday. I really need to sleep".
"Oh. Well that is perfect! I was just about to say that, that, you could come with me to our camp. There are, ummm, many friends there. They will treat you well and, and give you plenty of food and heal your stamina back up".
"Really now? I'm grateful, but I think just sleeping a little bit will suffice".
"B-But, I wanted you to tell me interesting stories about this city. Couldn't you wait a little more? If you do decide to come along, I can remove your fatigue instantly. Ah, did you know? There's this spell that..."
The little elf grabbed Plurimo's elbow and gently moved his body closer. He started explaining the effects of various magic spells, their properties and duration of their side effects. It looked like he had been studying diligently from a variety of well equipped libraries, because his recollections of each topic was practically flawless. As he was talking, Plurimo could feel both an unwavering passion for each subject, and an almost maniacal mnemonic precision.
"You seem pretty good with this. Are you a magic caster?"
"Ummm sort of. I can do many things but I-I prefer to read most of the time".
"I hope you wont take offense to this but you're a bit strange. I mean, it is clear to me that you're not a simple traveler. You seem to be pretty powerful too. Is there something that you need to find in our city?"
Plurimo decided to throw a tiny stone in that endless ocean of words in hopes of creating small ripples on its surface.
"I... I'm not certain. I'm here to scout for information. But, but I also want to know more. About... everything. Meeting new people, going to new places, it is so fascinating!"
The little elf tightened his grip around Plurimo's arm.
"You're, you're special are you not? I can tell".
"You... can tell?"
"Yes! M-Maybe Demiurge can tell us more about you though. I feel there's something inside you... something that I l-like".
As he said that, the elf's attention turned to Plurimo's house.
"There is a lot of stuff in there. You, ummm, build... things, right?"
"Oh, that. Yes I build furnitures. And ...toys. Special toys".
"Wow! What kind of toys?"
"Would you like to see them?"
"Y-Yes, yes please!"
Plurimo was finally able to open the door to his house. He stepped inside, his heart still beating as hard as a war drum.
As always, it was a mess inside. Gears of all sizes and shapes laying around, scattered across a sea of metal rods, leather-clad mechanical tools and instruments of destruction just casually left there half-finished, still possessing enough deadly force to be able to harm even the most careful observer if handled poorly.
Plurimo knelt and pointed at a small ornate box nearby, just next to his bed.
"Could you take that for me? I'm begging you, I'm really tired".
"Ah, dont worry. I can do that. N-No need to beg" the little elf had eagerly awaited for him to say something, anything. He genuinely found that place intriguing, so full of mystery and adventure. He felt that all these strange devices could have been very useful to lord Ainz, but more than that, perhaps for the first time in his life, he truly wished to know more on a personal level. It was such a beautiful discovery for him to realize that about himself; although Mare had never been one to complain, had his sister been around, he would have most likely not followed her orders for a while, absorbed as he was with all those newfound things to do and observe.
With that spirit, he grabbed the tiny box and held it in front of Plurimo.
"Thank you. I'm... not that good of a toy maker. But I hope this entices you".
Plurimo touched a small button just beneath the metallic surface of the box; the upper part made a loud clicking noise, then a flash of light came about from the ornaments and a blinding white vapor spread all around Mare's hands.
"How are you feeling?" the young man asked while covering his mouth with a handkerchief.
"Ummm, I dont know, I feel like before. What changed?" the elf looked at him, puzzled. Plurimo shook his head as if that didnt surprise him in the slightest.
"So this is what you are made of. Lord Flannar wasnt kidding. Nobody survives a smoke puff imbued with raptiramite. If he can sustain inhaling the deadliest poison in the region without consequences, then..."
Plurimo quickly adjusted his facial expression, as well as his composure, to hide his true thoughts as best he could. It was hard not to crumble.
"Sorry I must have done something wrong. Let me try again".
He proceeded to touch the strange ornate box again, this time however he grabbed its lower part and pulled it down with a little bit of force applied to the motion. Smoke puffs came out of it. A second later, Mare's head tilted a few degrees to the side. A large metallic needle had just clashed with one of the gears hanging on the wall behind the young elf's neck. As a result, the gear fell off the wall and hit several small bottles of paint, oil and ointments that had been hastily and lazily stored on several wooden shelves below it. A splashing sound ensued, countless ripples of red paint and a mixture of oil, herbal tincture and lubricants flooded the floor and wetted Plurimo's bedsheets.
"You should, should pay more attention with these kinds of things! If you had opened it yourself, that needle might have killed you. Please don't be so reckless in the future, okay?" Mare addressed Plurimo with genuine concern. His interlocutor sighed heavily and nodded.
As he had predicted, the trap he had set up truly felt like a toy in the hands of a servant of the Sorcerer King.
The needle was supposed to come out instantly, yet even a fraction of a second seemed too slow to compete against Mare's inhuman reaction times. He had simply avoided the hit with the tiniest of efforts.
"I'm grateful for your advice. You are right, I apologize. I've been... practicing my art, so to speak. But I'm nowhere near a perfect maker. Here, this one might be of interest. Definitely better than some rusty old box, the ornaments aren't even that great".
Plurimo couldn't give up just yet. He didn't know why, although he had been blatantly trying to avoid getting caught in te act, his feelings were showing off way more than he had liked them to. That was obvious as his tiredness and lack of foresight when it came to political intrigue, espionage, or otherwise the simplest of diplomatic actions, were taking their toll on him. Even just maintaining his cool felt incredibly taxing as he was facing his nation's greatest enemy, one that would directly threaten his master and his own well being.
There was no use trying to deny it, his next move would have to be decisive.
Two times he had tested his luck, and even though his uninvited guest appeared to be oblivious there was no telling if, or when, that act of his would crumble into pieces.
While he was still pondering on his situation however, Mare finally decided to act in his stead. He moved towards Plurimo's bed, looking straight at a little hand peeking out of the sheets.
"What is this?" he asked, uncovering the mysterious hand from the far end of the bed. Plurimo's face became pale with fear and regret.
"Dont! D-Dont touch that!" he yelled, frantically flailing his arms in the air.
But Mare wasn't listening. The sheets came down and thus a human figure was revealed. It took a second for the little elf to realize that it was in fact a doll, an almost perfect reproduction of a female with long blonde hair, large green eyes and creamy lips that any observer would mistake for real. The doll was wearing a long dress full of small ornaments that ended at he base of her thighs. The joints were badly hidden; knees, wrists, ankles and neck all had metallic parts exposed and large steel bolts inserted in each of them.
"That's... private, okay? I'm a young man after all. You cant possibly-" he stopped there. Was the elf even getting it? He didn't want to know.
"Oh... I see" Mare nodded firmly as if he had an idea formed into his mind, "you are, are not the first to have this kind of device. I-I mean I have seen, seen it in other places. It is called... dakimakura is it?"
"No, that's not... I... it's complicated. There are steps after what you just described... oh, forget it".
Plurimo's face was red with embarassment, anxiety and pure terror. Nobody needed to know what he had been working on in secret. His delightful , perverted self. The face nobody had ever witnessed. Yet, he deemed it necessary for his own survival. A young adult needs its own privacy, but he had none. Whether Asta, or the Judge, or more recently lord Flannar, his urges were ignored. Thus he had sought out comfort in his genius and with it, he had unleashed a new kind of creativity, the innermost part of him, the beastly instinct of selfish reproduction, had called for action and begged him to consider his options. And so he had acted, and his vision took the form that was now been exposed for Mare to see.
"Please dont tell anyone that you saw this. I'm serious, I need you to leave now". Plurimo's mind had suddenly been broken. Torn between fear of death, lust, fear for his nation and a deep sense of shame, he was completely out of it.
"Why should I leave? This is really beautiful!" the young elf praised him with genuine admiration "p-please consider telling me how you did it! Beautiful skin, amazing, amazing work! So it's not a dakimakura, what should I call it?"
"I said... Leave. Now.".
Mare looked at Plurimo with worry. He had taken something from the ground, probably unknowingly so. It appeared to be a tool of some sort. A wrench large enough to break an average human skull with a single swing. It looked heavy, but strangely Plurimo did not feel any weight.
"Get out of my house. Please. I... I need to sleep. You've stayed long enough".
Mare sighed. What a troublesome human that was, he thought. But there was nothing to be done: not all humans can be friends, he had learned that much the hard way multiple times now. Still, he wanted to try in earnest to get to know more people and cultures. He did not know why Plurimo was acting like that, but he was guessing that it had something to do with the doll. Maybe it represented an ancient cultural idol? Or perhaps a sacred symbol of his ancestors? Maybe by revealing it like that he had offended some deity.
"I understand. I will leave now. But... but, you need to come with me. I'm sorry. I promise I'll do my best to treat your fatigue. We wont be out too long, trust, trust me".
Plurimo's eyes went wide as his uninvited guest abandoned his doll and came closer at a fast pace. As soon as Mare's fingers touched Plurimo's, his hand lost all strength. The wrench he was holding fell to the ground, and so did its owner.
On his knees, the young man let his head gently hit Mare's chest.
"If it must be... I cannot avoid it, can I? Whatever. Just dont hurt me. And put my little Bley where you found it".
"Ummm, who's-"
"M-My doll, for Hilda's sake. Hide it under the bedsheets".
"Ah... understood. No, no need to panic. I want to help you. Of course I wont hurt you, who, who do you take me for?".
To the young man's surprise, Mare obeyed and granted Plurimo's request with the utmost care. Then, he put his shoulder under his chest and helped him walk to the door.
"We, we'll make a little trip to my friends' camp now. Please be patient. I swear I'm saying this for your, your own good. You will not be harmed, I promise".
"I wish I could trust you, really. But... although the stories people tell are often untrue, or exaggerated to impossible extents... yours is too big of a menace for them to not be real. I just hope I'll be able to get something out of this before I die".
Plurimo decided that thinking too hard on it would only be detrimental to his own mental sanity. He conceded defeat and let his subconscious drift into a slumber. He would finally be able to sleep a little.
.
"Esteemed colleagues and comrades, welcome. I'm glad we were able to finally establish a meeting with all parties involved".
The man who just spoke sat on a comfortable golden armchair, his legs crossed as if to imply that anyone who spoke afterwards had no say on the matter at hand.
In front of him, a large round table full of all sorts of paperwork barely had enough space left to contain some glasses of wine and a couple bottles of fine liquor. About 70 or 80 seats all around it were presently filled with people in formal dresses who looked like high ranking officials.
"It has come to my attention that the militia has just been beheaded. Vashtblaff has been killed in action".
Those words had generated a considerable amount of consternation amongst the listeners, whose eyes were now full of anxiety and fearful resentment.
"How did it happen? That's almost impossible to believe" someone pointed out while scratching their head.
"Such a powerful warrior, defeated? No, killed? What kind of a monster are we dealing with?" another one uttered these words with pure terror in their hearts.
"Now now, let me finish. The news comes from a direct witness of the events, one of his personal cavalrymen. As a matter of fact, the soldier I just introduced had barely enough life left in him to come to our post and tell his story. He died shortly after of utter shock. Whatever he saw, must have been so terrifyingly ominous... yet, he valiantly survived long enough to warn us".
A brief pause ensued. Some of the onlookers started taking notes as if they were writing the most important message of their lives.
"I believe that single cavalryman has been left alive on purpose. They were trying to send a message. We are not dealing with common brigands nor invading nations from beyond the desert. This is far worse. Someone among the militiamen is convinced that we will soon be dealing with... the Sorcerer King himself".
"Nonsense! Why would he even come here? Has that monster run out of nations to conquer already?"
"Regrettably, it appears as such. Whether he's here to obtain resources or mere pleasure it is unknown. However, we do know that there is some activity in and around the forests directly across the plain and beyond the Star City. The scouting squadrons have been dispatched a few hours ago and some of their reports appear to be bizarre.
Apparently someone is trying to mobilize a large amount of wild animals for unknown purposes. We know this because almost all wildlife in the outskirts of the forest has been completely wiped clean".
Visible concern arose from the onlookers as they frantically tried to keep their cool. The bottles of wine left on the table were alraedy empty.
"... despite all this, I need you to keep your individual situations under control. While it is true that one of our best assets has been lost, we are still in full control of all supplies, recruits, conscripts and equipment. As leader of the municipal college, I am obliged to remind you all of your role as guides of the populace and peace keepers. I did not summon you here to see you scatter, rather, I want you to unite and instill courage and pride in all members of your departments. We need to coordinate with the militia to assess the situation and resolve any local conflict before we even think about waging war against a foreign nation, let alone the Sorcerer King himself".
"So what are we supposed to do, prefect Bormeliar-Vaacur?" someone among the crowd of gentlemen and high ranking officials addressed him directly for the first time.
It felt like an eternity had passed since anyone had given him the time of day, for he was a former soldier, member of the militia, and ex foreign dignitary, yet his old age and lack of flexibility had prevented him from advancing any further than that. He had always wanted to become mayor and finally set new standards for the city he had loved more than his own life, the place he felt was his true homeland. However, being the head of the municipal college required that his efforts be concentrated all in one place, managing the internal affairs and complex hierarchy of the state while also ensuring that no conflict arose between the Elves of Purity and the other races. It truly was a daunting task, yet he seemed to be tailored for the job. To him, it felt like a badge of honor, and a terrible burden at the same time.
"At present, the militia is retrieving their equipment and guns from the municipal arsenal. I've already granted permission as soon as it was requested. Moreover, a small force will be soon dispatched to deal with a particular fringe of political dissent among the merchants. It would seem that a woman named Varma has been leading the merchant guild for a few days, yet she was able to change their views on lord Flannar and the city as a whole in such a small amount of time. The protests are starting to get violent, we cannot overlook it anymore".
Prefect Bormeliar took a piece of paper out of his pocket, then he passed it on so that each of the members of the municipal college could see it.
"This is a sketch of the woman I'm talking about. As you know, we would normally issue a warrant and conduct our own research. However, this person appears to be an outsider and her facial traits have been recognized before by many. No matter how well she conceals herself, with help from direct witnesses and magic casters around the globe who are passing on their own info as we speak, we were able to identify this woman. She is none other than... Solution Epsilon".
The room suddenly became very lively as if a large party had just been thrown amidst the bystanders.
"That's it! We have proof now! The Sorcerer King is trying to deceive us! We can issue a request of aid to our allies beyond the desert and-"
"... and what of it?" prefect Bormeliar smiled bitterly as his glacial eyes kept staring at the sketch, "that wouldn't do at all. It would take far too much time for us to prepare, and besides even if we managed to pull it off, miss Solution would most likely be able to subdue any repression. She's been acting quite fiercely as of late. Remember the destruction of the former kingdom of Pau-làm or the savagery at the battle of Quadmanli three years ago? Thankfully, we have many reports that detail her abilities, as there have been no shortages of atrocities committed by her comrades, so we can act accordingly. I'm here to propose a plan of action. Since we will most likely be unable to fend off our attackers... we must take her hostage".
The onlookers went silent. The mere notion of something as absurd as that felt like a tasteless joke. It was, for all intents and purposes, a complete shot in the dark.
"How in the world would we accomplish something so reckless? It's impossible for commoners to even attempt something like that!" someone shouted, visibly upset.
"I know that. I never said it would be an easy task. I've mentioned that the militia is gearing up and a small force is being dispatched to deal with the merchants. I have requested that their numbers be increased to two full companies, amounting 250 men total. Of course I did not disclose the identity of the merchant guild's leader to anyone but you, esteemed colleagues. Thus... regrettably, the militia will act as bait, while our real trump card will play their role in the shadows".
"You want to sacrifice two-hundred men for something that is doomed to fail from the start?! Madness, I say. We should negotiate with them instead!" an official spoke his mind.
"Yes, I am asking for quite a lot. No matter how you look at it, the situation is desperate. There is no telling when and if our chances will ever improve. We get one shot at it, after which lord Flannar will come into play no matter how things are going. I have assembled a small squadron which has the only purpose of sending messages back and forth between the municipal college, the militia's headquarters, and lord Flannar wherever he is. There are 46 men and women each equipped with a concealed message tube. Of course 45 of them are fake, issuing completely absurd orders, detailing fictional map coordinates. Only one of them has the true instructions".
"I see, and how will we be able to recognize who has the real message?" an oblivious large man who had since been half-asleep at the far end of the table asked that question almost nonchalantly.
"The officers in charge of receiving the instructions already know how. There is no need for me to detail something like that. It is classified".
Many looked at the large man with suspicion. He smiled as if he had known his question would rise some eyebrows. Nonetheless, he shut up and kept his cool.
"Now, I shall listen to all your concerns in order. However, be advised that my decision is final. I will not change the official stance of the municipal college unless directly ordered by lord Flannar himself. We have no time for internal quarrels, I trust that you know this".
Two hours later, prefect Bormeliar was finally free. He exited the busy meeting hall with due haste, massaging his temple with feverish enthusiasm.
"What a nightmare. I'm glad it's over" he thought while entering a service corridor just outside what had been the mayor's former office.
"Hey there old geezer. Long time no see huh!" someone addressed him from behind closed doors. The prefect turned around just on time for the double doors leading to the mayor's former office to open wide. The Judge, or as Bormeliar preferred to refer as "lord Flannar's lackey", emerged from the shadows.
"You've seen this? What a mess huh? Enemies all round, I tell ya! We need to keep our guard up even here. Someone's been plotting against the mayor for quite some time. I've sent some patrol officers around the city but no luck so far. Do you happen to know something I dont?"
Bormeliar hated the Judge with a passion. He thought very little of him as a man: his attitude, demeanor, and constant suspicion of anyone nearby was starting to get on his nerves. On one hand he understood why he should be wary of any possible intruders and spies, but on the other, the sheer disrespect for any kind of formality and his rude behaviour just didnt sit well with him.
"Of course I would inform lord Flannar of any urgent discovery. I've been in contact with elector Hendryckvor for a while as well. It would seem as though the archbishop is slowly waking up. I would imagine the resurrection ritual has been successful".
"Ah yes, that's good news indeed. At least it came about before we were formally attacked by a foreign nation capable of nuking us all into oblivion, ahahah!"
The Judge slapped his own belly like a happy kid, as it was customary of him while under pressure. Prefect Bormeliar was no fool. He understood his mannerism quite well. He believed that the human body can tell much more than what meets the eye. For that precise reason, he had gathered all of his colleagues and close cooperators in one room.
The Judge's facial expression suddenly changed, and with it his voice tone. Every word felt like a whisper in the wind.
"... so, how many?"
"What are you referring to?"
"Come on, I know you well enough. How many were there?"
"... about 20. Probably less, but it is a good estimate".
"What the hell, that many huh? Lady Hilda preserve us. So then, what will you do now?"
"The only reasonable thing to do would be putting them all under surveillance. But that would be futile. I cant deal with an enemy who's well above my own perception of reality".
The Judge looked at Bormeliar right in the eyes as if the two men needed to be on the same plane of existence for the following question to make sense.
"So then... the squadron, the one real message-"
"Oh? You seem to be intelligent enough to notice. I'm surprised" Bormeliar smirked at him out of spite, "yes, there's no real message. All 46 of them are fake".
"Tch. Some fox you are. You don't need to spill the beans in the middle of a corridor. Someone might be listening".
"And what of it? Should I be concerned?"
Bormeliar didn't wait for the Judge's answer. Instead, he pressed something on his chest. It looked like a small box with a single inscription carved on it.
"Take this to Plurimo as fast as you can. Tonight, we need two muskets ready to go".
"Huh? Just two?"
"Indeed. Now go, you've got your orders, have you not?"
"Baaah! Stop treating me like a kid, old man. I bet you're going to get senile before this war even starts!"
With that said, the Judge hastened out of sight. What a brute, rude and unrefined. Bormeliar had always wondered why lord Flannar would choose such an imbecile instead of him, a proper cleric with the gift of dark vision, whose unique talent granted him enhanced perception, a complete understanding of body language, and extremely high intelligence. With his heightened senses, he was able to tell apart humans and heteromorphs with ease, no matter the disguise. Such a powerful combination of abilities had been useful to him countless times before; he had avoided death more than once, for he was not liked even among the Elves of Purity, the majority of which eagerly awaited his demise.
"I guess everyone has their own place, in some twisted way. Fate can be kind and cruel at the same time" he thought, reminiscing on his own merits.
He told himself that there was no reason for him to dwell on it too much. Bormeliar would never understand his master's intentions. For all he knew, lord Flannar might have had a 100, 1000, or even 10.000 years plan in the making. And somehow, he was convinced that it might have been the case. What was he, a mere mortal, compared to a god? All he could hope to be was a faithful servant and an exquisite strategist.
"When the time comes, I'm sure... I will demonstrate my usefulness. You'll be proud of me, no matter what happens".
.
Night had finally claimed each and every shadow in the city. Mare was travelling at a hasty pace, while maintaining a perfect balance to not upset Plurimo's movements. Even though the path to the suburbs was quite clear, he was still wary of the small streets suddenly changing shape, the houses stretching and slimming depending on his desired destination, and the uneven terrain that had become increasingly hostile to his presence. Just like before, it felt like someone was constantly watching his movements. This time however, it was much amplified. Even with his World Item equipped, somehow he could hear a whisper just at the base of his neck.
"Was this what miss Nabe felt earlier?" he thought to himself while hovering over a small shed to figure out which way would be the quickest.
Despite all those small impediments, he wasnt concerned in the slightest. If anything were to happen, Nabe was well within reach anyways, so they could regruop easily and escape. And regardless of what he felt, he could just destroy a couple of buildings and make his way to his next destination effortlessly. Not doing so was entirely up to him; he thought it would be considerate of Plurimo's feelings to not flatten his fellow countrymen's houses for now. He wanted to keep his morale high and truly try his hardest to become friends with him.
He didnt quite understand why. A mixture of potential, intelligence, sheer creativity, and possibly even his voice made Mare aware that the person beside him, someone outside of Nazarick, could become another friend. And, since the world was in such a state of chaotic hatred towards lord Ainz and his companions, he wanted to keep close as many supporters as possible. Not just for the sake of his master, but for his own as well. Loneliness was a terrible feeling that he got to experience for a time several decades prior when his sister and a large group of Guardians had to abandon their post to wage war on the world. While it took only a few months in total, he swore that he would never again repeat it.
Suddenly, a surge of power came about somewhere close by. Mare could clearly feel it, someone or something had been creeping out in the darkness. He jumped off the shed and let his body lay on a haystack, while protecting Plurimo's unconscious self with his cloak. A loud rumbling sound broke the silence of the night. Then, countless piles of rubble scattered all over the nearby streets, while large smoke puffs erupted from the naked earth. As if it had come out of nowhere, the power Mare felt vanished in an instant.
"What a mess" Flannar timidly entered Plurimo's house. The door had been left half-open, countless fallen objects were covering the floorboards. He had planned to announce his visit politely if he had found him alone still, but the traces of red liquid leading outside had made him aware that wouldnt be the case. A sudden realization froze him in place: he hurriedly covered Cyrus' eyes with his hand and clenched his teeth in disgust.
"Dont look. There's blood everywhere".
"Ah... I-I understand, master. It could arouse my appetite. I'll look away now, you dont need to worry about me".
Obediently, Cyrus turned around and sat on the floor, waiting for his master's inspection to end.
Flannar looked at the bedsheets in horror as he felt his stomach ache with rage. A hand, and long blonde hair were peeking out of the sheets, completely drenched in blood and oil.
"By my mother... what the hell happened here?! Plurimo must have been abducted very recently" he concluded, averting his gaze, "surely that devilish fiend must have conducted a bloody ritual to charm him. There is no other explanation for this. Poor soul... and this wrench, no doubt the boy tried to defend himself with it. But nothing came out of it... this is bad. Very bad".
"What would you have me do, lord Flannar? Please order me something, anything. I will avenge this offense". Cyrus' fierce response betrayed his deep desire to fight. Anyone who would dare defy his master would soon know who they were dealing with. Even overweight, he could still smash a skull into pieces with a single finger. No mortal could oppose his resolve, and the more he thought about how sweet human blood tasted, the stronger his hunger for conflict became.
"We must restrain ourselves for now. The priority remains finding Plurimo and bringing him back. We must avoid any conflict as much as possible".
"But... you said that we may have to fight anyway, right? What if we cant talk ourselves out of this situation?"
"Then... we will need to confront them one at a time. In that case, I need you to disperse your pursuers and go find Rose & Chrysanthemum as fast as possible".
"Allright! And then I'll destroy them with these hands!" Cyrus looked at his own palms, the surface of which was starting to get populated with small, almost invisible claw-like bone formations. It had been Flannar's idea to modify his skeletal structure as such, so that his high mobility could be complemented with a very strong and quick retaliatory response to shake off his enemies. That was necessary because of Cyrus' lower than average HP, something which was concerning Flannar quite a bit. Against a typical human, or even a high level Elf of Purity, it would be no problem at all. But he had no data on the Sorcerer King's troops, apart from vague recollections of the survivors arriving at his doorstep and some made-up stories heavily exaggerated by the villagers at the edge of his realm.
Mare was still hiding in the haystack when a thunderbolt came out of nowhere and struck near it with an intense powered up aura of malicious intent. It felt like an explosion of malice directly threatened the area affected by it, as if the very source of the electricity had struck to kill all life in that precise spot. He felt it in his bones, although the protection of his gear plus his World Item granted him total freedom from harm of any kind.
Someone had definitely appeared in the near proximity of his location; there was no way of knowing which kind of threat that was, but if he had stayed there there was a non-zero chance that his new friend might have been harmed. So he decided to act immediately and promptly jumped out of his hiding spot, taking Plurimo with him. He did not deem that location safe enough for him to keep his unconscious companion too distant from him.
As he hovered above the area trying to find the source of the thunderbolt, he saw a flash of red light approaching at fast speed. He dodged whatever the obstacle was, simply by moving out of the way a little with an incredibly fast reaction.
"Hoooo! Impressive! Y-You managed to dodge that, huh". Someone made their presence clear by speaking to Mare directly. It looked like a boy with long, blonde hair, wearing a red attire reminiscent of the mid level vampires Mare was used to from back when he still was in YGGDRASIL.
His large belly was partially exposed, as he clumsily tried to toughen up; he put his shoulders behind his chest, hands gripping his hips, his face looking slightly amused. However Mare was certain that something was amiss.
"You... are not human, right? I can feel it. If you're not human could, could you leave me alone please? I don't have time to play with you".
"Oh? W-Well I don't have time to play with you either! So hand over my compatriot at once!"
Cyrus' eyes were crimson red, flaming from both irises. He pointed his claw-like index finger at the unconscious Plurimo, whose eyelids had just twitched a bit.
"Why, why would I do that? This is my new friend, we are just taking a trip outside, that's it. Ummm now that I think about it more calmly, perhaps you can help me? I wish to go out of this city without breaking anything. Can, can you guide me?"
"Huh? Oh, sure, sure. Maybe you'd like a cup of tea as well?"
"Ah, that, that would be lovely! I really like your, your people. Such hospitable fellows. I mean it, I wish to keep a good relationship with you!" with that said, Mare smiled kindly at the stranger and eagerly awaited for his tea.
Cyrus couldnt believe his ears. That response seemed awfully genuine. It felt as if the little elf he was confronting had no intention of fighting. No, that wasnt it. It felt like he wasnt even a threat to him.
The young vampire inhaled profusely, making his puffy cheeks even larger. Then, he released all the air he had stored at once. As he did so, an imperceptible electric field covered his body from head to toe.
Mare could feel his aura rise. His bright irises became sparkling with joy.
"Oh! Wow, so you are almost as powerful as... ummm no, a little less. Well, that is pretty good! I think you should come with me as well, after I've finished my trip I'll come back and pick you up. Would you like a tour of, of the plains?"
"Are you making fun of me? Stop it at once you fiendish devil!" Cyrus snarled at him like a feral beast, exposing his canines as sharp as steel.
"I'm sorry. I probably, ummm... how do I put it... I'm not used to your culture. Maybe I should consult that useful brochure once again..."
Mare tried to use his free hand to search for the small pamphlet he had taken out of Luma's tavern a few hours earlier. However, Cyrus would not remain there waiting any longer. A fraction of a second later, the air around his body bolted away from it as if exposed to the vacuum of space, then the young vampire moved towards Plurimo's location as Mare blinked. The two were eye to eye. The little elf immediately responded to this action; he swiftly escaped Cyrus' attempt with a pirouette, then he promptly reached the ground, where he ran for cover. Cyrus was surprised, nobody had ever bested him as far as speed goes before then. He told himself that it was just due to the initial recklessness of his action, it would not happen a second time.
"Come back here! Give me my compatriot back! I dont have time for this!" Cyrus insisted as he flew towards the ground and, jump after jump, his feet acquired even greater momentum.
He quickly caught up with Mare again, this time however, it was the little elf who made the first move. He sprinted forward, moving in a tight alley behind several dilapidated buildings. However, much to his delight, Cyrus could go toe to toe with him. The two never really separated, their speed kept increasing and yet their eyes were fixated on each other's visage with no intention of letting go.
"You're pretty good! Maybe we, we could race sometime? But, I really need to go now. So if you dont want to help me, please leave. I will, will try to find a way out on my own".
"You're not getting anywhere with him. Give Plurimo back!"
Cyrus' hand reached for his compatriot, then it suddenly made a detour for Mare's neck. The little elf dodged the hit flawlessly, but in doing so he had to slightly adjust his trajectory. He tripped over several debris on the ground and rolled over to protect his new friend, thus exposing himself to a possible attack. Cyrus was ecstatic as he would soon sink his teeth into that tender flesh and rip it apart.
However, much to his indignation, as he attempted to reach his enemy by jumping over him at high speed, Mare leaped forward as fast as a bullet. It was hard to maintain his balance with his new friend at his side, but he would not let go of him under any circumstance.
"You are not very nice. If, if you don't stop this nonsense, I may need to hurt you. Please don't, don't make me do that. I don't want to upset my friend". Mare's eyes were now completely fixated on Cyrus' movements. He was serious: the slightest hint of aggression would soon trigger a violent retaliatory response.
"I don't want to fight you either! Give Plurimo back, stupid! He was my friend first!"
This time Cyrus didn't wait for an answer. He put both hands together, exposed his palms to Mare and casted his spell.
"Tier Seven: Blood Shield".
An explosion of dark red matter flowed from Cyrus' wrists all the way to Mare's back; a large pool of blood gathered in mid air, solidifying instantly as the shape of it became reminiscent of a large tower shield.
Because he was moving in mid air as well, jumping once every few seconds to maintain his momentum, Mare ended up hitting the newly formed shield with his back at full speed. The impact was severe, however the shield didnt break yet. Normally the little elf would recover immediately, but the surprise of the attack made him hesitate for a moment. It was the perfect opportunity to strike. A figure shrouded in darkness appeared on the side, emerging from an alley nearby. Countless snakes were hissing at Mare, revealing their crimson eyes in the dark of night. Then, a face appeared amongst them, followed by a vigorous hand.
"Got him! Cyrus, make another one!"
The mysterious assailant grabbed Plurimo's clothes and took him from Mare's grasp. As this was happening, Cyrus created a second Blood Shield just above the two. The assailant jumped on a nearby wall, thus giving himself momentum to land on the shield and then hover above the rooftops.
"Mission accomplished, dont waste time on the ground! We have to hurry back!"
"As you wish my lord!"
Mare looked helpless as his eyes frantically searched for his new friend on the rooftops, where the two assailants, now shadowy figures moving at insane speed, were rapidly gaining ground. Something in Mare's mind snapped. A fleeting moment of sadness, a second of solitude, a fraction of loneliness. That was all it took.
"Lord Flannar, can you feel this?" Cyrus hopped over the next cimney as his eyes widened in disbelief.
"I do. Keep moving. That's a..."
He tilted his head for but a second. Large waves of freezing wind hit their backs at high speed, as if the climate had suddenly changed. Then violent hissing above and behind them made Flannar aware of how dangerous the situation was.
He jolted to the left, taking cover behind a mass of wooden barrels, while Cyrus went in the opposite direction and sought after a series of pillars just above a large alcove.
Countless meteors of varying sizes were flying in their general direction. Above their heads, on the sides, and below. Flannar watched in disbelief as countless houses were being mercilessly hit by the first wave of oversized rocks destroying anything in their path.
Huge dust clouds partially covered the path behind and ahead of the duo. Upon taking a small peek, Flannar could see his pursuer standing still, wielding a large staff with stone-cold eyes that seemed made of pure crystal under the tenuous moonlight.
Bright green and bright blue, unmovable, never blinking, terrifying. He seemed determined to wipe out every single alleyway.
"... druid!" those words escaped Flannar's mouth as he looked for a way to escape that situation. His mother had warned him time and again about their powers, however he had never encountered one before. He had dealt with plenty of paladins, regular soldiers, monks, priests, clerics, assassins and bandits, champions of all sizes and constitutions. However, druids and magic casters were a rare breed on these lands. He had limited knowledge of their lore and measure of their powers, but he could take measured guesses. And so he had determined that with the current situation, the little druid might have changed the weather. On top of that, he seemed in control of external forces of Nature itself, such as meteors from space. Of that he had also limited knowledge, despite him having consulted prolific scholars of the stars multiple times in the past century.
"There is no other way. I need to preserve Cyrus and our resources as much as we can. So all I can do... I must do it quickly".
Flannar called upon the power within himself as if he was praying. He wasnt seeking for strength nor agility. He was not abiding by any rules, not even his own. With his hands firmly gripping around Plurimo's body, he called for someone.
"Delatur'xe, I call upon your aid. By lady Hilda's grace and command, I summon your likeness. Gaze upon our land once more for I desire not to conquer, but humbly serve. Bestow your wisdom in times of need".
"YoU DoNT NeEd tO bE SO ForMAl wITh mE, FlAnNar. I Am nEver gONe. NeVeR wiLL I gO anYwHEre".
A deep voice void of emotion, as solemn as a pact between men and gods, came to him like a thunderbolt. In the deepest recess of his mind, even Mare could hear a whisper, if feeble and distant miles away.
"COLlect yOurSElf yoUNg LoRD. pAnIC iS nOT Of oUr WoRLd".
Flannar took a deep breath and tried to visualize his own body. Then, he plunged his fist into his life pool. He could feel every ounce of energy emanated from the countless souls embedded in his own self, like small crystallized globes of light. The souls of his own subjects, embraced in a fleeting moment of passing thought that encompassed generations over the span of 400 years.
"True wisdom of the ancients. I shall not be kept silent by this feeling. I renounce my fears. Now in front of you... I offer part of myself. Please, take my life force".
He reached out to an invisible entity in front of him. His hand was empty and yet, he felt that his very being was being pulled from the bottom of an endless abyss. His HP pool went down a good chunk. Vertigo, the urge to vomit, and then his heart racing way above normal. He felt dizzy, unstable. For a brief moment, the embrace of true Death itself came and went in its full capacity and took hold of his essence.
"VeRY wELl. WhAT Do yOu sEEk fROm mE, yOuNG lOrD?" the voice once again manifested itself. The meteorites kept on flying above Flannar's position, some coming very close to hitting Cyrus point blank. Mare didnt seem intimidated by this new nuisance in the slightest. If anything, the youg elf had even more resolve left in him. He advanced a few paces, taking his time as he recalled his own promise not to destroy the city entirely. For the moment, he only had crushed a few houses and leveled an alleyway or two. He swung his staff and hit a wall nearby, making it crumble like butter.
"Come out please. I, I wont kill you. Let me, just, just let me have my new friend back. We can still put it behind us, okay?"
The deep voice asked again: "WhAT Do yOu sEEk fROm mE, yOuNG lOrD?"
"Knowledge and Protection".
"AS YOu WISh. BeHoLd, TrUE wISdOm oF tHe AnCIEnTs".
A blinding light known only to Flannar made him weave for but a second. Then his vision cleared.
He looked at the young elf with eyes of stone. Now he knew.
Just above his head, he could see it bare. His HP, his MP, his spell casting abilities. a small sign next to his full name was floating in mid air as if moved by a force known only to the gods themselves.
Flannar reached out and touched it from where he stood. As if air and solid matter were one and the same, he moved that sign with the same ease one creates ripples on the surface of a pond.
Now he could see the young elf's equipment, and understand its nature.
"...World Items. I see. That's why he doesnt seem affected by Delatur'xe's presence. But... that will change now".
Flannar looked at his opponent with the same severity of a father staring at an unruly child. Likewise, Mare looked at Flannar with the same severity of a child staring at an irresponsible adult who has no clue about the world around them.
"Delatur'xe, heed my invocation. Release this child from the shackles of his World Item. Let him experience your presence in full".
"aRE You sURe, YoUng loRD? tHat WiLL coST YOu eXTrA".
"...please do it".
He had just spoken when a smaller meteor hit him in the chest at full speed. Flannar got thrown away into a nearby building, and there he sunk deep into the basement of a long gone tavern. Cyrus saw everything from his vantage point up above his position and thus was able to catch Plurimo at high velocity just before he fell to his doom.
Now Mare and Cyrus were staring at each other, just short of a few hundred meters. None of them seemed ready to let go of their targets.
But as soon as Mare went for a decisive blow to Cyrus' arm, he felt pressure around his wrists. An invisible force, so massive and persistent, something he was unable to stop. In a moment, his staff fell, as well as his World Item. Avarice & Generosity were pulled out and tossed on the ground. In the very brief moment when Mare's incredulity gave way to uncertainty, his mind felt assaulted by something tha could only be described as a mass of thorns piercing through his brain.
"Ha! Not so tough now huh, little rat. You re-really had me worried there for a second, you know?" Cyrus taunted him while exposing his flopping stomach out of pride, "now watch! Lord Flannar will- gack!"
While trying to recover from the sudden headache that had afflicted him so, Mare uneasily moved forward and accidentally threw the back of his hand towards his side. It hit Cyrus' obscenely large belly so severely that it made him spin on the ground for a good while, until finally his body made contact with a mass of wooden crates and got stuck amidst their remains once he had destroyed them with the sheer force of his weight.
Plurimo, still partially unconscious, had been left on the ground right in front of Mare. The young man was beginning to wake up; at first he did not recognize his surroundings, but then he gradually understood his whereabouts.
"Why are we still here? Did something happen?"
A quick glance at Mare's uncertain stance made him realize that something must have prevented him from moving outside the city. Maybe he might have been able to escape to safety?
Still too weak to run, he tried to get away in vain. As soon as Mare had regained his composure, he easily grabbed his arm and weakly flew above the rooftops once more. Recovering Avarice & Generosity had been harder than he thought, for some reason. Picking them up and putting them on again had felt as difficult as heavy lifting would be to a middle aged human that never exercised before in their life.
"What a terrible evening. This, this is just so... ummm difficult? I guess you people really dont like me. I'm sorry, from now on I will try to understand and learn more of your culture". He spoke frankly, although he did not understand the causes of all that animosity fully. The headache had still not subsided. Healing would not work as it should have, in the back of his mind he felt that casting any spells to improve his condition would be futile. Why was that? He didnt know. All he wanted now was to get out of there as fast as possible. He decided to avoid all confrontations all together for the time being.
"This... isnt over yet".
Flannar had emerged from the mass of rubble that had been covering his body for several minutes. He appeared weak and frail, but his eyes were still full of life. He jumped over a handful of buildings and caught up with Mare.
"Plurimo, you're awake! That is such a relief!" Flannar called out to him.
"Lord Flannar? What... are you doing here? Have you come to rescue me?"
Mare hovered over a building nearby and left his new friend there to regain his stamina.
"Why, why is it that I feel so bad? What have you done to me, strange snake man? Ummm, would you please release me from this... curse? You are way too cruel with your guests. Dont make me regret being so polite". In reality, he would never regret it, as lord Ainz had instructed him to always be wary of local forces and seek aid through politeness.
"Guest? Do guests usually start demonic rituals wherever possible?" Flannar had enough of that charade, "I saw what you did. I entered Plurimo's house".
"What... he did?" Plurimo, now seated at the edge of the rooftop, was hearing the conversation with the utmost attention.
"All that blood, the wrench on the floor, and... that body..."
"What body? Did he... no... oh no, please no..." As he realized what Flannar was trying to say, Plurimo's fears turned into anguish.
"You should repent and turn yourself in. If you decide to apologize to us and cooperate, then I'll see it myself that your afflictions be cured within the day. Alternatively, you can leave this city, without Plurimo of course. Then tell your master... that we want nothing to do with him. We shall remain free from anyone's grasp for millennia to come. Tell him that there is nothing valuable here and we serve no other purpose than our own survival".
Flannar had kept his mood as neutral as possible and his words in check. He needed to be extremely careful not to upset the little druid too much, even more so now that he could see his HP and MP pools and abilities. That was no mere NPC he could just bash once or twice.
Plurimo on the other hand, could not sustain the shock. His master's words kept echoing in his mind. He must have seen it, he did see it. There was no mistaking it, his secret had been exposed.
"The shame... oh the shame... my Bley..."
Suddenly, the young man stood up on his feet and walked towards the edge of the roof.
"Plurimo! What are you doing?! It's dangerous, get away from the ledge!"
"Ah, w-wait, please dont do this!"
Both Mare and Flannar stopped talking and bolted instantly towards Plurimo's location. He made the jump, with a single tear leaving his cheek.
"So shameful... goodbye my lord..."
An eternity later, Plurimo's eyes opened again. He was being carried by someone else; not the young elf, nor his lord. A girl with a long ponytail, stone-cold expression on her face. Beside her, a weakened Mare was flying while supporting himself onto his companion's shoulder. He appeared to have a bruise on his forehead.
"What in the world happened? I couldnt believe my eyes. I know it is not my place to ask, but I really need to know. Why would you risk your neck for such a lowly human piece of trash? When I saw you hit your head against that... half-snake monster I thought you were being controlled by a World Item, however senseless that thought may have been. I get that you've taken an interest in this man, but please dont be so rash in the future. If lord Demiurge hadnt called me back to base I wouldnt have been able to aid you".
"I'm sorry. I'm aware that I've done more than I should have. We wanted the same thing, me and that snake man. That's why we collided. In any case if, if lord Ainz deems it correct, then I'll... I'll receive just punishment".
Mare hanged his head in shame. He didnt regret anything, but he did acknowledge that his actions had been dictated by emotions rather than logic.
"I wonder... why did I lose my cool back there? If, if only for a moment..."
"You too then? This city... there must be an even deeper secret. We'll figure it out together. For now, I'm just glad that I was able to rescue you in time".
With that said, the two finally reached the edge of the Star City. Their newly acquired captive, Plurimo the natural genius, would have been a fine specimen for Demiurge's plans. Narberal was hoping that the information gathered during those two days would serve their cause well.
