Gagaran grunted while hefting her new axe. She swung down, and a buffeting wind blade cleaved through enemies at least a good six feet out. It was effective against lesser demons, but less so against undead who were more susceptible to blunt impacts. For them, she'd have to get up close and personal.
"Gagaran, the left line is falling," Tia muttered from Gagaran's side.
"Got it."
Tensing her muscles, Gagaran moved to reinforce the left flank composed of a row of sturdy shield men. Undead pushed harshly against the shields, the sound of warping metal echoing as Gagaran's axe bludgeoned an entire row of enemies pushing against the shields.
Veins popped over Gagaran's biceps.
"Orrah!" She completed her swinging motion and immediately eased the pressure on her allies by launching the enemies away.
Clank!
"Don't get careless," Tina said, blocking several arrows fired by a group of undead at Gagaran before vanishing in a blur of speed. She reappeared again by the undead archers and inwardly marveled at the relative ease her new daggers tore through armour and bone alike.
There was no adventurer that didn't understand the importance of good equipment.
Comparing her original weapons, Tina held no doubts that she would have been forced to put them through repairs following this battle. With Shirou of Team Darkness's contributions, she would no longer have to, and if Tina was being honest, she was jealous of Team Darkness.
Just with Shirou alone, Team Darkness was bound to join the Adamantium Rank, let alone the fact that Momon and Nabe seemed just as capable.
"Tina, ahead," Tia called out to her sister in warning.
Tina nodded, and together, the two rogues retreated by Gagaran's left and right.
The ground was shaking.
What is that?
The enemy lumbering towards the defensive line looked like a cross between a man and a frog accompanied by skinned humans with exposed musculature painted with slimy black liquid.
"An Overeater and Gazer Devils!" Gagaran warned.
The Overeater was the lumbering giant that appeared like a mix of man and frog. The wart-like lumps over its oozing skin were nothing less than the terrified faces of those it had consumed whole. Around it were the Gazer Devils, the eerie red glow of their eyes penetrating into the crowd.
Moving directly towards the defensive line, the Overeater's mouth seemed to unhinge before a piercing wail reverberated into the streets.
Blue Rose's members covered their ears by instinct, but not everyone reacted so quickly.
Blood leaked out the sides of people's ears from shattered eardrums, many staggering from a sudden sense of vertigo. The high-pitched noise was enough to shatter glass from distant window panes, creating another problem as sharp slabs came tumbling through the air. Many splintered into shards cluttering over the ground, but several struck those dazed by the shriek, cutting profusely bleeding injuries over the skin.
Gagaran winced while making eye contact with Tina and Tia. That bastard had to go.
Fiddling through her equipment, Tia and Tina took out several poison darts which they threw at the Overeater. The almost viscous layer of slime over the Overeater's skin meant that few of any of the thrown darts proved effective.
They would have to get in close. However, this came with its own complications.
The only reason the defensive line was holding was due to Gagaran, Tina, and Tia's ability to reinforce or alleviate pressure from their allies. If they diverted their attention on a single group of enemies, it wouldn't be long before the defensive line would be breached and overrun. That would spell overall defeat if Lakyus and the others got pincered by superior numbers before dealing with Jaldaboath.
While caught in a dilemma, all noticed when the Overeater unhinged its jaw once more for another scream.
The decision was now out of Blue Rose's hands. They had to act. Their allies wouldn't be able to stand another ear-piercing shriek.
Gagaran sprinted forward, but it was Tina and Tia who were the fastest, each striding towards the Overeater from the left and right flanks.
The Gazer Devils moved to block the way, but before Blue Rose even reached the enemy, a sudden change occurred.
The Overeater froze, a blade suddenly stabbed from beneath it, cleanly tearing it in half in a single stroke from the bottom up.
Blood dripped from an excessively long sword held in the hands of a noble looking man in purple. He flourished the blade clean, and the blood splattered out in arc.
"That makes forty-two," the purple-haired swordsmen said flatly before a blur of red flashed over the Gazer Devils.
"Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-One."
With each number spoken, an enemy would fall under a heavy sword. When the last Gazer Devil was defeated, it was only then that the figure of a woman appeared smiling smugly at the purple-clad man.
"And that makes Forty-Two. We're still even pretty bo-" the woman grunted before flicking her sword to the left all too late. A longer sword had already reached it.
"Forty-three," the man in purple let out a small smirk as his two-meter long blade bisected a bloated flier faster than the woman's blade could react. "I maintain the lead."
"..." The woman's expression was a mix of grudging acknowledgment and unwillingness to lose. She clicked her tongue, and turned away just as another man appeared panting for breath.
"I let Brain kill one," she complained.
"We both did."
The woman fell into muted silence once more, while Brain, the newest addition, felt another hit to his self-confidence after just getting some of it back from getting two kills on his own.
These three swordsmen that showed up were none other than Musashi, Sasaki, and Brain, behind them, a path of blood and enemies.
The sight of the three swordsmen's capabilities roused the spirits of many, the arrival of these three sparking the beginning of a shift from defense into offense.
Above them all, a flock of crows circled the horizon.
Their eyes flickered to Gagaran and the others, but didn't seem to find what they were searching for.
The crows continued onward.
As planned, Ainz carefully approached the variant of one of Demiurge's trusted demons with an appearance identical to Evil Lord Wrath. Something akin to a high-tier disposable summon.
Outwardly, Ainz presented the image of a stalwart warrior bravely stepping into the field of battle, but inwardly, he was trying to process and reformulate a conclusive end goal for Demiurge's arrangements. After the discussion he'd had, he'd managed to glean the main point of things, but not the short-term repercussions. Instead, he was just fortunate to 'grace' Demiurge with his aid, no doubt to deal with any unexpected fallouts while making sure Operation Ghenna succeeded.
Everything Demiurge had orchestrated had come to this.
From the publicity of his intent in letters, to the distribution of forces and arrangements to encircle the capital of Re-Estize, and finally, to Cu's spear that tied everything together.
…If successful, the ends would surely justify the means.
Failure in comparison factored little into the equation, as they were likely to be hunted down whether they acted or not considering the nature of Nazarick's denizens. In such a case, taking the initiative was more appealing than waiting for the inevitable.
He'd instructed them to be lowkey intending for them to avoid confrontation, but frankly, this was too naive. Were they to simply wait in the Great Tomb forever, barred even the notion of freedom? Ainz couldn't accept that. Moreover, what of him, and any potential Guild Members that may have also ended up in this New World? Were they doomed to be left abandoned and at the mercy of monsters that could kill them because Ainz couldn't muster the courage to expand and search?
Ainz realized this point now, but smarter people like Demiurge or Albedo must have already realized earlier and had assumed he was of the same mind. He himself was the one who told them of his overall goals. They took it as a message to bide their time and carefully prepare with due caution, creating appropriate fail safes and nuanced countermeasures where appropriate.
Operation Ghenna was one such implementation orchestrated by Demiurge and Albedo's coordination.
With Ainz's participation, he hoped to achieve the best results.
It was all that he could hope for.
Discreetly, Ainz nodded at the higher tier summon before him posing as Jaldabaoth, the icy fires in the demon's eyes flickering to life.
"How noble." Jaldaboath rasped, its voice like rubbing matchsticks. "So you choose to face me alone, mighty warrior? Let it be said, but you are not the first."
"Is that so?" Ainz hefted his double greatsword, having stored away the swords Shirou had gifted him until he could decide what he wanted to do with them. The skill Perfect Warrior had its limitations, and didn't provide him actual Warrior skills. Sticking to what he was used to would make him better in this script. "Then I will surely be the last."
"Oh?" The Demon breathed in a light imitation of a chuckle, tongues of fire lighting over its face. "How amusing."
The Demon suddenly struck with an unwavering ferocity, fingers curled, claws extended.
Ainz reacted as if watching the movement in slow motion. The sword in his left hand gleamed before rising in challenge with nary a grunt before the two forces collided.
Clang!
Spectating, Lakyus and Evil Eye tensed at the first exchange, but neither could keep the astonishment out of their eyes when neither side was able to gain ground. Momon himself was only using one arm.
Stiffly, it was at this moment that Blue Rose began to understand that no one in Team Darkness was normal. Look at Shirou and his ability, and the relative ease he allowed Momon to fight such an adversary alone.
Meanwhile, Shirou had found several people buried under the rubble of nearby buildings and was moving to evacuate them. Lakyus and Evil Eye felt like they should have helped, but their attention was too focused on Momon. At the slightest sign of him failing, the two were going to intervene, etiquette between warriors and knights in solo-combat be damned.
An orange glow encompassed both Ainz and Jaldaboath.
Hardened scales grated against the edge of a sword in a clash of power, heated sparks showering over the ground and leaving mottled black spots of soot.
Ainz raised the sword he held in his free hand, and struck it down.
The level of skill was not outside what Lakyus could manage herself, but the sheer difference in power was something that she didn't think she'd ever be able to overcome.
Cutting wind formed from a result of Ainz's swing, the subtle shifting of the Demon's posture enough to evade the strike and allowing it to touch the ground. The tiles over the road didn't simply crack. No, it exploded, leaving a growing scar that spanned deep into the dirt.
In contrast, heat flared around Jaldaboath's fist, the temperature of which ignited into fires that glowed a fiery white. The acrid scent of melting tar and glue from the debris of nearby buildings began to waft.
"You can't block that, dodge!" Lakyus couldn't help but warn.
It was for naught.
Ainz deflected the strike with a sweep of the sword in his left hand, while countering with a stab in his right. Forced to withdraw his arm or risk losing it, Jaldaboath forewent his attack. Flapping its wings, the gusts of air produced propelled Jaldaboath quickly to the side where Ainz was already waiting.
"Impressive." Jaldaboath beamed while mounting a defence and crossing his arms. Ainz's attack struck true, but tendrils of magic energy surged beneath the Demon's scales and bolstered its defence. Rather than cut, Jaldaboath was instead sent flying. "To think a human this capable still exists! Marvelous!"
He's doing it. Numbly, Evil Eye hadn't noticed that she was balling her hands into fists. How long had it been since she'd felt like this? A feeling reminiscent to the beating of her dead heart?
The candour of a Hero had once more appeared before her.
Ainz remained unphased at the Demon's words. "Praise will get you nowhere."
He stuck close, striking with a flurry of strikes that Lakyus could only describe as brutish; effective only because of the strength of the swinging arms. Evil Eye didn't seem to care about whether 'Momon' was a skilled swordsman or not, only that it was working.
"If its him, he just might be able to win on his own," Evil Eye muttered.
Lakyus grudgingly agreed.
In the distance, Ainz continued pressing the assault. No matter what Jaldaboath did, it was doing little good but to drive the match into a prolonged slug fest.
Ainz would strike a blow, then be thrown back from Jaldaboath's counterstrike.
The intensity of their clashes caused tremors to spread through the ground and buildings, while their strikes ruined the entire area. One blow smashed Ainz into the central clock tower of the market square, while another cut had caused Jaldaboath to bleed turbid purple flame from the wounds.
No matter how long the duel was going, by now it was clear to see what would result for everyone.
A stalemate.
"In your current state, you will not defeat me." Ainz shook the dust and dirt clinging to him as he picked himself off the wreckage of a now ruined shop. Jaldaboath floated in the air above him.
"This isn't even counting my allies that watch from the back," Ainz continued.
Jaldaboath could only laugh in mockery, the signal to begin the next phase.
Ainz and Jaldaboath took in deep breaths, but this was the moment.
If who Demiurge was right about being out there was out there, this next act would not be able to be ignored.
"On the contrary, I've only just begun!" Jaldaboath landed on the ground and tensed in preparation.
An ominous aura exuded from Jaldaboath, the decrepit smile it kept on its face, never leaving it as its hand seemed to tear through space to take something out. The air rippled like pebbles thrown into the water of a still lake before the hand grasped at something and pulled.
The hairs on the back of the neck suddenly raised, goosebumps running down the skin even as the muscles of Jaldaboath's arm began to twitch and spasm. A wave of energy followed, bringing with it the abrupt attention of numerous eyes.
Steadily, an object was drawn.
A red barbed spear marked with vein-like patterns that pulsed with energy as if alive.
-Caw!
Lakyus shuddered from a growing sense of unease before she glanced up at the noise above. Her pupils dilated at the sight of 'them' who began to circle on pinioned wings of black. It started with one, but with one came two, then three, and onward.
Crows?
Lakyus thought distantly before shaking her head and refocusing. Her nerves were probably getting the best of her. What she had to focus on was the spear the demon drew. "W-What sort of weapon is that?" She muttered, never feeling anything like it.
"A-Ah."
A gasp caused Lakyus to glance at her fellow party member, noting the less than subtle trembling of her hands and shoulders. "Evil Eye?"
-Caw! Caw!
No answer.
Evil Eye swallowed, feeling the inherent danger of that spear more than Lakyus ever could as a Vampire, an undead.
Shirou in comparison was no longer as reserved when that spear came into sight, his features darkening.
As the spear was fully drawn, the area around it seemed to darken and twist with a dim yet fiery aura.
"Do you feel it?" Jaldaboath boasted. "The bloodlust, the murderous intent?"
-Caw! Caw! Caw!
Louder and louder, the unwarranted noise continued to rise.
Lakyus frowned, finally staring up at the sky again and falling into abrupt silence.
The hand Jaldaboath was using to hold the spear was sizzling, smoke wafting as the weapon seemed utterly incompatible with its current wielder. Tangible red arc-like magic energy threatened to sear the flesh right off of Jaldaboath's hand, but the demon seemed to not care and gripped tighter despite the pain it must be enduring.
It was the sin of pride.
-Caw! Caw! CAW!
"This spear is my trophy, my crowning victory against the man who once wielded- will these damn…bir..ds…no..t…"
-Caw! Caw! CAW!
Everyone was staring up now, Ainz more than anyone feeling a chill work its way down his spine. Crows, crows, and more crows continued to arrive and glide in ominous circles, the color of their pupils a piercing yellow. In the circling flock, a hole was cordoned off by the sound of a whistling object.
Ainz's jaw locked shut in confirmation.
This almost CG-like animation sequence-
The flutter of black feathers gave way to a soft voice carried in the wind.
"Step aside, warrior. This battle is mine."
A red blur came crashing from up high, forcing Jaldaboath to evade by flapping its wings and jumping to the left.
Dirt and debris exploded, cratering the point of impact, and sending plumes of smoke outward.
All held their breaths.
The sudden appearance of an identical red spear striking the ground where Jaldaboath once stood put an end to the demon's fickleness.
Lakyus blinked, and in the moment it took to open her eyes, a veiled woman then appeared next to the thrown spear; a raven perched on the spear's top before it unfurled its wings and took off.
The woman said not a word, rather, her gaze was trained intently on the weapon held in the Demon's hands.
A murder of crows blotted the area, and continued to cry; all moving to perch upon the edges of surrounding buildings.
They were familiars, the heralders of the Queen, the Witch.
For she arrives in the silence of the darkness-
The ruler of the Land of Shadows.
Heeled footsteps echoed as they fell into stance.
Undead and the depraved.
The glare of red eyes shone behind a veil amidst the eerie cackle of the scavenging birds.
…Thy judgment hath come.
Staring at the adversary before her, Scathatch had her doubts.
It didn't make sense.
She narrowed her eyes and felt her blood begin to sing within her veins. Battle called to her like an old friend fueled by a simmering rage. It swelled and ebbed like the flowing of a tide beating against the shore, fighting for attention.
Yet rage would not cloud her.
Magic energy swelled from within and burst out in a torch that enshrouded her in tendrils of arcing purple-red aura.
The Demon flinched if only for a moment, but it was as if Scathatch could see right through it.
Cu would not have fallen to something so weak. She'd taught him better. It would at least take a Daemon to take him down, and this, this was not it.
Even still, by proxy of possession, it meant this demon had correlation to her hunt.
'Wisdom of DunScaith.'
Her eyes flickered with runic energy, making them almost glow in the tense silence broken only by the protégés she'd stumbled upon in passing.
"W-Where did you get that?!" Charlotte pushed out from the protection of the crows, restrained only by the white-knuckled grip of her brother who quickly connected the dots.
Charlotte in retrospect, may have realized it even faster than Chris, but denial was a strong factor in self-delusion. It made sense for Scathatch to have the same red spear if she was Father's Cu's teacher, but why would one be in the hands of a Demon?!
For a second, the fury welling within Scathatch waned, if only through the subconscious need, maternal or otherwise, that came to placate a despairing child. It must have been her sore spot. First Cu, then the rest of her students. They had always come at a young age, and she as the teacher had been the one to watch them grow.
"Child," Scathatch warned, shaking her head. "This is not your place."
Unfortunately, the Demon Jaldaboath was more than willing to delight in breaking a child's innocence through depressing anguish.
"I took it from a spearman too in over his head. Why?" Jaldaboath smiled, seeing as Scathatch made no movements to intervene. The Demon within grew emboldened and indulged in the way Charlotte's features began to break down into whimpering denials. "Did you know him? Blue hair, red eyes, earrings? Hehehaha, he died meddling in matters far over his head."
"Y-You're lying!" Charlotte threw the practice spear Cu had made for her and her brother, the wooden twig doing little more than snapping in two as Jaldaboath batted it away. "Cu would have never lost to some Demon like you!"
"-He speaks the truth, child." Scathatch intervened. She was never one to hide such things, and through hardship, one can grow to possess the sturdiest of hearts. Scathatch was not a teacher that believed in hiding the truth let alone babying those that would carry the legacy of her tutelage. "Your senior disciple was killed. I have come to avenge him."
"…"
Chris wordlessly caught Charlotte as she fainted, barely able to keep his own emotions under check while staring hatefully at Jaldaboath.
"So, you admit it then?" Jaldaboath goaded, turning away from the children, and staring directly into Scathatch's unflinching eyes. "This spear has become my trophy. You are not angry?"
Scathatch's expression remained stony at best, but the storm of magic energy around her told of another story. She pulled her spear out of the ground where it had erected itself and pointed the tip at Jaldaboath. "The spoils of war belong to the victor, but worth is decided by whether or not one is able to keep it."
"How amusing, a threat from a mere huma-!"
"Weak."
She appeared directly by Jaldaboath's side, watching the lumbering demon move ever so slowly in reaction. Her leg raised up, and side kicked him far before Jaldaboath could even react. Her heel struck first, then the base of her foot. The sheer force had the demon's body fold over her foot, the sound of snapped bones reverberating as a burst of runic energy sent him sprawling face-first into the dirt.
"Cu would have destroyed you."
Silence, Ainz swallowing dryly as he took a step back from the scene, Lakyus, Evil Eye, and even Shirou himself stunned at Scathatch's sudden arrival.
Hammering his fists into the dirt in frustration, Jaldaboath pulled his face out the ground and pushed himself up with his elbows in a bid to get back onto his feet. Blood trickled down his face, the horns that protruded from his head, heavily fractured and hanging on by little more than a thread of keratin.
Hearing rapid approach, Jaldaboath countered and whirled a backfist around him…straight into the tip of a waiting spear that traced the trajectory of his very attack.
It pierced his hand, stabbing his palm, and then right through before the spear was nailed into the dirt, pinning Jaldaboath's hand beneath.
"Strength without technique is merely the flailing of a child."
A growl escaped Jaldaboath's mouth as it tried and failed to free its left hand. However, he froze the moment he realized Scathatch had leisurely walked up beside him with an utterly impassive face.
"Does it hurt?" She asked, raising her index finger which began to draw floating primordial runes in the air. They reeked with an ominous energy of death and anguish which she brought closer and closer to be branded upon the flesh of his pinned arm.
Before Jaldaboath even knew it, the runes were already cut into the skin of his left ar-!
"A true warrior does not show their pain. If you don't wish to die, I recommend cutting it off."
Jaldaboath's face contorted with indescribable agony, the arm branded by the runes blackening at a rapid rate and crawling to his bicep in the blink of an eye. The blackened parts writhed and peeled like rotten strips of flesh that dissolved into black ooze.
There was no time to think. With the red spear still in his right hand, Jaldaboath cut his left arm off by the shoulder, watching the limb vanish with the inane whispers of death carried in the runes.
"Aargh!" Jaldaboath screamed, channelling the full brunt of its power into an aura that surrounded it.
An emotionless glare was the only response.
"Is that the power that killed my disciple?" Right now, Scathatch had determined it as she once more pulled her spear out of the ground. "You are not the killer."
"Shut up!" Jaldaboath used the very spear Scathatch had crafted for Cu herself to strike at her. The iciness of her features only grew colder.
"A weapon in the hands of a fool is no more dangerous than a fancy twig!"
With a single thought, Scathatch moved. She didn't even bother using her own spear and rapidly struck at the joints of Jaldaboath's right arm before finishing with a disarming strike to the wrist. The pilfered spear then returned to the hand of its original creator.
She held her own spear in her left hand, and her student's spear in her right.
She stepped forward.
Jaldaboath stepped back, flustered. "I may die, but you won't get anything from-"
"Kill you?" Scathatch's features darkened as she cut Jaldaboath off.
"No." She shook her head while flourishing both spears and stabbing them through Jaldaboath's legs, keeping him in place. "I intend to send you back to where you belong. We'll have plenty of time there."
Something about the words struck Jaldaboath far more than anything that could have been accounted for in any plan. One could forget, especially as a Player like Ainz who came from YYGDRASIL, but this was not YYGDRASIL any longer.
A power that was attached to a name would descend here.
Wind began to pick up again, the sound of the crows suddenly rising higher and higher in volume. It was a mix of flapping wings, screeching caws, and drifting feathers.
Scathatch stretched her hand forward and began to invoke the landscape tied to her very being.
'In the darkness of the brightest day, the road stands open upon the isle of Skye.'
She closed her eyes as she pictured the image forever preserved in her heart and soul, speaking them aloud as if nothing had ever changed or ever will.
"Walls by the sea, gates over the sands, a castle looms on the foot of a bluff."
The words flowed with runic energy, ripples forming in the air that dimmed even the flames of Ghenna.
'Hear me and show the way through the council of the highlands.'
She focused inward, drawing further and further into her inner psyche. Power swelled and manifested not only in her thoughts, but bled into reality. All along, she had always been the key, the guardian tasked to an eternity.
'O timeless fate. O ill begotten watcher. The immortal Queen that awaits the end beckons thee.'
Deep within the earthen hollows of the leafless trees lies a gate standing within the shadows.
'Come forth.'
Ice has formed on the edges, staining the metal almost black on either side.
'Come to me.'
Ancient runes are engraved on the steel, twisting along the hinges and downward to the base.
"Reveal the boundary of the living and the damned!"
Crows and ravens lay perched upon the arches, and the bones of animals and humans alike adorn the area beneath.
'My duty! My home! My curse!'
The heavy doors of yew wood began to creak, massive clinking chains releasing the seal.
"My Fortress of Shadows!"
The gates open, creaking with the shattering of spectral ice and groaning metal.
'Open the Gate!'
Seen through it, was the Land of Shadows itself.
"Gate of DunScaith!"
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