GOD IS AN IDIOT
Chapter 9 – The Spider
It felt good to let his legs dangle on such a beautiful day. The wind was refreshing and carried sweet notes of young leaves and blossoms, instead of the rancid decay he had expected of a metropolis or the sour ashen smell he faintly remembered from Earth. Fine cloud veils painted the sky in a calming symphony of blue and white. All which was missing were little songbirds coming to rest on his ribcage's bones and sing for him.
Humanitas looked like a veritable paradise from the spires' edge. He saw islands of green rise between the simplistic, yet elegant, buildings all over, and his gaze could travel kilometres along the wide, paved boulevards before it reached the city wall. Here and there, other thin towers like the one he had found refuge on spiked up, crowned with statues of one of the Six Great Gods, keeping careful watch of their chosen people.
The prattle of discordant, and often still high, voices dominated the air, for the vast majority of Humanitas' population had not yet seen their twentieth winter. The capital of the mightiest human nation was a city of children and adolescents.
Momonga had seen smaller markets on the way here, but the wide plaza below him lacked any stands or merchants. Jogging formations of youngsters in black shorts and grey shirts stirred up dust under the barks of their adult instructors, while others, regardless of sex, fought mock battles with blunted weapons or barehanded. He even spotted a few groups who collectively beat up one of their own, while their superiors encouraged them to not hold back.
Compared to that, his own youth might have been dreary, but at least it had been peaceful. This resembled more military drill than any high school he would have liked to attend, yet few seemed unhappy. Under the sweat and dust caked faces, he saw an eager determination to go on, to evolve, to excel.
None noticed the undead creature looming right over them thanks to [Perfect Unknowable], one of the mightiest illusion spells in Momonga's arsenal. It hid him not only behind a veil of invisibility, but from all senses: hearing, touch, heat, smell, taste, or arcane detection. Even his actions became a natural part of the outside reality, if he so desired.
Only detection magic of the Ninth Tier and above, or an exceptional rogue like his old comrade Nishikienrai, could have detected him… and still, he saw a subtle blur in the distant sky, flying at hundreds of kilometres per hour, head straight for him. It might have been invisible to the humans below, but he could clearly make out the arcane runes covering the hidden form like a polygon net.
Momonga looked up past the skeletal face of Surshana, as it circled the spire once on a pair of avian wings before landing to his side.
"Hello, Albedo."
The shape bowed lightly and sat down. Albedo sighed, though he could not tell without an actual face if that was earnest, and greeted, "Good day, Lord Momonga. I had hoped to surprise you, but it seems you even account for low-level magical items like a Ring of Greater Invisibility."
"Actually I didn't, but I noticed the code wrapped around you hiding your form. I still can't see you."
"You... You discovered me by the very magic which was supposed to hide me?"
"Yeah, shortly after you passed the mountain's edge."
"I am no caster, my Lord, but even Pandora's Actor had to cast a spell in your guise to actually see me when I donned the ring, and he was standing right in front of me. Clearly, I underestimated the power of a Supreme Being once again. Please accept my apology."
"There's nothing to apologize for," Momonga dismissed it, but he was still confused. If P.A. assumed his old Overlord levels, even at reduced ability, should he not have gained the same skills of a caster? By now, to him, every spell, every magical item, even the ubiquitous street lamps were caked in black runes, becoming ever more intricate and tighter as the tier of the used magic rose. Yet his own creation, who could also become a Level 100 spell caster, did not notice them?
It boggled him, but for now, another question was more important. "What brings you here, Albedo?"
Her outline tipped its head. "I am the Guardian Overseer, Lord Momonga. I am here strictly for business, of course."
"Then you came way too late. I dumped off the captain barely an hour ago. I doubt we'll see him soon," he said and pointed behind them. Albedo followed his thump to the wall of seamless white stone rising from the centre of the city. Momonga himself had unwanted kindled a smug smirk from Nigun, when he was left speechless at seeing it for the first time.
The palace of Humanitas was a wonder which he would have been hard-pressed to find an equal in size or sheer monolithic presence even in Yggdrasil. Its narrowing walls sported to the ground as far as his exceptional vision had been able to see, not one fugue, and followed a narrow almond-shaped base over three kilometres long. All around it, long stairs on thin round arches led up to the edge 400 meters above, where, beyond their line of sight, stood the Great Cathedral of the Six.
"They call it Corsanctum; can you believe it? As if Tier Magic wasn't proof enough other Players came here before us, the shoddy use of pseudo Latin is."
"Quo probare non."
"Don't you start." Momonga stopped her, but Albedo just chortled and asked.
"Speaking of dead languages… How do your studies of Demiurge's translation fare, my Lord?"
Language was still one of the greatest mysteries of the New World he had to solve. When he was attacked by a short-lived tribe of goblins during his first venture into the Great Forest of Tob, he understood them and they his "Bye" perfectly, as had every other sentient being he had encountered so far, despite the ridiculous chance. Was it because of his own skills, a remnant of Yggdrasil's auto-translator, or an inherent quirk of the world? He had not found one clue so far clearly pointing at one of those explanations, and had to just accept it for the moment.
He had used the time on the train to read up on the devil's conversion of kanji to the New World's Draconic Alphabet, which was seemingly used by all the surrounding nations. Instead of distinct signs for each word, they used symbols corresponding to the spoken syllables, as had been common in many of the western societies on Earth. The Draconic only used sixteen symbols, but each could represent up to 5 different sounds, so it still required some interpretation to read the words correctly.
Demiurge had also thought of that, and added examples of Japanese words to the included preliminary dictionary, which resembled the required sound when spoken aloud, and added further simple, yet distinct, pictures for each object or task listed. Sometimes, Demiurge even added a short cartoon of his own face speaking each syllable in special cases like names or objects, which had no corresponding equivalent in the Old World.
In Momonga's mind, it was an exceptional work, especially since the Guardian wrote it in just a week, giving the End one more reason to fear the devil's intellect. Yet the most troubling problem of the translation was not his servant's genius; it was his own inability to work with much of the book. He didn't recognize many of the symbols any-more. The memory of him staring for half an hour at one before at last realizing it had to mean something along the line of "Sasuga!" – "As expected!" – still irked him, and the dead ends repeated all over the book, often several times on one page alone.
His studies had hit a wall.
"Well enough," Momonga replied.
Perhaps too fast, as Albedo waited a few seconds before pointing at the large blue letters hanging over the opposing corner of the Plaza. "What do they say?"
'Shit.'
"Glo- Glory to Surshana, Lord of Death," stammered Momonga.
"To the Toilets. No Fornicating. The last part with an exclamation mark. That one?" Her finger moved to a big board with bold red letters, under which several of the instructors rested.
'Gimme a break.'
"That's today's timetable for classes."
"Fascinating. So the maggots will learn about 'omelet with baked potatoes' after they finished 'turnip cream soup?' I can only wonder what lesson 'Meat Balls with Trumpet Mushroom' entails." Albedo laughed and was about to move her hand, when Momonga grabbed it and groused.
"Enough."
"Excuse me?" The black polygons mocked.
"I said 'enough'."
"But I want to be a useful servant and learn from you, Lord Momonga!" She chided back and slipped out of his grip. He could swear she was grinning at his misfortune under the spell's veil, while his metaphorical blood started to boil. The woman's malicious joy was totally uncalled for. For Pete's sake, he was still her boss!
"Gimme that ring!"
"I think not," Albedo rebuffed him and inspected her hand.
"Gimme!"
"No," she defied him and evaded his snatching hand, raising his ire further. "That would not be wise, my Lord."
"I don't care! Take off the ring!" Momonga fumed and continued trying to grab it, which she in turn avoided again with a giggle.
"Gimme!" – "No." – "Gimme!" – "Na-ah." – "Now!" – "Maybe later." – "This instant!" – "Or what?" – "I'll make you squirm!" – "I would like to see that." – "WOMAN!"
She avoided his hand at every turn, till he had enough and pounced on her. Albedo squealed and wriggled, but he kept her pinned under him between his knees. She was too quick and nimble for him to catch her hands, so instead he grabbed her upper arms and growled triumphantly.
"Gotcha!"
His claws travelled up her smooth skin till he got hold of the gloved wrist. She barely resisted as he forced her arms above her head together.
"What if someone sees me, Lord Momonga?"
There was no hint of worry in her words, just more tease. He changed his grip so one of his hands held her relatively tiny wrists together, while the other at last got hold of the damnable item. As he pulled it off, the arcane runes paled, and he finally gazed at Albedo, red-cheeked and with the pearly grin he had suspected she's sporting all the time.
"You have won, my Lord. What now?" She breathed, and he thought he heard her heart beat while her slitted eyes stared at him.
A loud bell rung under them and shook the spires tiles. It had not been her heart, but footsteps he had heard. He signalled her to remain silent with a finger to his teeth and quickly extended [Perfect Unknowable] to cover her as well, before leading her back to the edge, still holding on to her hand.
The kids below stopped their drill and rushed to the spire's base, where they sat down on the packed sand with their instructors. The bell kept toiling till the whirled-up dust had settled and a fully-grown man's voice shouted, "Class 579-83, greet your rector, Madam Pon Las Feyar!"
The kids raised a fist to the sky in unison and cried with all their might, "HAIL, MADAM FEYAR!"
Momonga heard another set of feet enter the cabin below and softly addressed the former speaker, "Thank you, Maduo," before she greeted her young audience with a trained and commanding voice. "And hail to you, Aspirants! I feel blessed once more by the God of Life, when seeing such fine stock toil for the future.
In the four years you have lived in Humanitas, you have grown strong, thanks to the harsh lessons of Lord Fuji Salfer.
You have become smarter under the tests of Lord Yalla Himi.
You have found pleasures and content in Lord Kaloahalii's bountiful blessings. and…
…you have accumulated wisdom of your own in Lord Plutonios hallowed city.
You have almost walked the same path as I once did. As every proud of citizen of Slane once did. But your path is not finished yet. The last steps to becoming men and women still lie before you. I see it in your eyes. The burning desire, the inner turmoil, the restless legs, the hidden fear.
What am I talking of!?"
"THE TRIAL'S OF SURSHANA!" The aspirants cried, and Lady Feyar continued, satisfied.
"That is right. This year, you will face the trials of the God of Death for the first time. In less than a month, you will march south under the leadership of you honourable tutors to show the enemies of humanity why they should fear the greatest nation of Slane.
It is a terrible test of strength, of wit, of conviction and faith, and I owe it to your true dedication thus far to be also true in turn.
Not all will make it back to learn more of what it means to be Slane. The enemies of mankind are monstrous, they are cunning, they have no conscience, and they are without number. This conflict will not end with a single victory or one great glorious battle. It will continue, till the last demi-human, the last monster, the last traitorous rots of humanity has breathed its last in shameful failure. Can any of you imagine such dreadful vision?"
"NO!"
"And neither will I!
"The trials of Surshana are without end, for we are, as we always have been and will always be at total war with a hostile world, which would prefer to see us all dead. That would erase the achievements of your parents and ancestors! That would steal from you the felicity you deserve! That would deny a future for your own progeny, if you let it!
"NEVER!"
"I feel the same as you do. Know as I do there is only one way to avert such a fate.
No matter what will be coming for you, you must endure to fight another day! You must kill, so they won't kill you! And if all else fails, you must sacrifice, so others can fight on in your stead! Know only one path can lead to salvation, to the peace of the gods' afterlife.
You must butcher the enemies of mankind!"
"YES!" The teenagers roared.
"You must gut them with your steel!"
"YES!"
"Fill them with your arrows!"
"YES!"
"Burn them with your faith!"
"ALWAYS!"
"Strangle their cubs!"
"GLADLY!"
"Tear down their works!"
"AS WRITTEN!"
"HAIL TO THE ONLY SIX GREAT GODS!" Lady Feyar cried with them, and Momonga saw her spittle rain down with each hate-filled word.
"HAIL TO ALAH ALAF!"
"HAIL!" The aspirants answered with sky-thrusting fists.
"HAIL TO FUJI SALFER!"
"HAIL!"
"HAIL TO KAMOHOALII!"
"HAIL!"
"HAIL TO YALLA HIMI!"
"HAIL!"
"HAIL TO PLUTONIOS!"
"HAIL!"
"HAIL TO SURSHANA!"
"HAIL! HAIL! HAIL!"
The noise was deafening. Her audience had become a frothing mob shouting its fear and hatred to the sky, and their rector let them revel in the collective emotion. For minutes, Momonga listened, fascinated as the hundreds of adolescents pledged their promises to the gods and curses to their enemies with sore throats, till the bell was struck again.
It toiled six times, before the kids had found a semblance of calm again, and Lady Feyar continued quieter, "Gods bless you, and gods bless the Theocracy. Let us pray together."
Her charges bend their knees, and the rector began leading them in a prayer Momonga had heard Nigun done with his tropes, all the while his mind rattled. While the children averted their eyes and touched their foreheads, he turned to Albedo.
"When you return to Nazarick, I want you to send Sebas to Re-Estize and Aureole to Baharuth, until I call them back."
"Under which orders?"
"None."
"My Lord?" Albedo asked, unsure, and Momonga went on.
"Tell them only to keep Nazarick's existence a secret and leave them otherwise free to do as their conscience demands."
"I am not sure I can follow. What is your intent, Lord Momonga?"
He stopped playing with the ring in his free hand and snipped it over the edge. Albedo caught it before it had flown a meter, and chided, "What are you doing? Nazarick is almost bankrupt, and you are tossing away a precious item?"
"It's worth the lesson for you. You wanted to learn from me, so let it fall."
"But..."
His stare stopped any further complains, and she hesitatingly obeyed, letting the gleaming item drop into the crowd below. A boy cried out and rubbed his head, earning a sore look from the girl next to him, till she noticed the ring on the ground.
She picked it up, and after a moment of studying it with wide eyes, slipped it over her finger. At once, the black runes spread over her and stole her from mortal sight. The commotion began.
He knew the ring had served its purpose when he saw a knowing smile spread across Albedo's face, and rose. "We are done here. I guess it'll still be hours before the Captain has finished his debrief, so we'll might as well be lollygagging in the meantime."
"Do you suggest..."
"Yes. Let's explore the capital; see what is has to offer."
"...of course. Lead away, my Lord." Albedo sighed, and Momonga had to think of their previous conversations where her disdain, if not outright revulsion of humans, had been plain to see. He resolved to change her opinion and reminded her to hold on at all times, or the spell hiding her would fail. He felt her slender fingers lock into his hard claws and confirmed with a last look down into her eyes she was ready, before he leaped.
Gazef checked the wristwatch he brought from Nazarick for the ninth time, while he waited at the base of the long stairs leading up to the Cathedral of the Six. Corsanctum's bulk already blocked out the sun behind it, and few people still stepped on the escalator leading up, while the opposing direction had become crowded.
"Hr-hrm."
He looked up at a clean-shaven bonehead in a long mantle and with a large duffel bag over his shoulder. He needed a few seconds before he recognized, with a toothy smile, the scarred face of Nigun. "My captain, you finally made it."
"Obviously. Let us move, Stronoff," the priest snarled back, and began speedily walking without waiting for a reply. Gazef followed in a natural march of his own, as did Momonga and Albedo.
They too had been waiting for Nigun for some time, and although Momonga had used some of it to instruct the Guardians, most of it had been spent in awkward quiet.
The city trip with Albedo had not had the effect he desired. He had shown her some landmarks he thought impressive, but she kept comparing them to the literally fantastic architecture of Nazarick. She always pointed out little flaws – "The windows should not face north." or ways how it could have been done better – "They could add some white paint to keep it cool." – he never had a sensible reply for.
When he stole her some candied almonds and fruit-flavoured ice cream, delicacies he had never gotten the chance to enjoy himself and likely never would, she had heaved after the first taste and politely declined in partaking further.
He finally took her to a park where the humans enjoyed a game eerily similar to American football, but with a spike-studded ball and way more brutality. She just stared at him quizzically and asked for the point of watching another's physical exercise, especially when none could compare with him anyway.
Nothing of the human's culture impressed or teased a smirk of appreciation from her, yet still she wore a content smile which radiated peace when they met up and waited with his fraud.
He was glad at first when Gazef was not dissuaded by Nigun's grim face, and filled the silence. "What happened, Captain? You look like fresh from a Katshuja symphony. Something amiss? Didn't it go well?"
Nigun stared at the former warrior captain, like he had been hearing symphonies and only him. Momonga felt with the priest, and barely held himself back from smacking the turncoat over the head.
'What the...? What the hell is that fool sputtering?'
"I do not want to repeat myself. You can wait till we meet Dana."
"Oh, don't be such a miser. It's a bright day, real kaiser weather."
'Shut up!'
"Hence why the merchants are igniting their lanterns."
"The birds are chirping."
'Please, shut up!'
"They are irritated by Corsanctum's shadow."
"And all the lovely misses are appreciating you."
"They are- You might have a point there." Nigun gave up and headed with a novel smile for a flower stand, where a freckled ginger woman with a large rack waved for him, ignoring all the passing ladies who played with their hair and studied him.
Momonga was about to hold Gazef back, when Albedo leaned into him and whispered, "His imitation is perfect. He really has a talent for acting."
"I'm nothing like that!" Momonga denied instantly, but she dragged him after the men with a wink before he could properly point out the mistakes.
"Hi there, handsome soldier. Back once more from the front and with a new cut. I like it." The stand owner beamed at Nigun, and he ran with a bashful blush a hand over the naked scalp.
"Thank you. It seemed appropriate."
"Just make sure you're not missing anything more the next time you come back," the ginger reminded and reached for some calla lilies, greens, and cord.
Nigun frowned and asked, "Who…?"
"Young Wainin Der Essir didn't return. Got captured by elves. Don't think I need to say more."
"I hope he got to use his capsule before they turned him into a living banner."
"Jadin said he raised a smart boy. Said there's a good chance the lad died on 'is own terms," the woman assured him with a sad smile, and handed the new bunch to an ashen-faced lady, who accepted it with a clipped nod before shambling off.
Gazef took her spot and clapped Nigun's shoulder heartily. "Captain, I've got to say you found yourself a real beauty. Your Dana is a flower all of her own."
If he intended to earn some goodwill, Gazef severely miscalculated, as both Slane glared at him before she cleared her throat and said, "I'm not Dana. Name is Lora. The captain and I are... just friends."
"Sorry, I thought..."
"Forget it." Lora brushed him off and turned back to Nigun. "The usual white carnations?"
He nodded, and Lora went to work without further banter, before handing Nigun his bunch and turning to the next customer. She did not say goodbye. Nigun left a few coins and led to a quieter neighbourhood in the inner city.
The streets had emptied considerably, when he finally stopped before a narrow two-story town-house. The little green before it had been planted with well-groomed bushes, and the naked bricks been painted with chalk in the image of a pastoral forest under a cloudy sky.
Nigun brushed off his mantle and adjusted the grip on his duffel bag, before ascending the five steps to the door and walking in, his three companions right on his heel.
"Dana, I am home! Dana, are you there?"
"Nig?" A bawdy woman's voice called back from up the wooden stairway.
"Yes," Nigun confirmed, and Momonga heard for the first time true joy swinging in the Captain's words.
"Gimme a min', I'm on the drops. Sucker won't budge."
"Take your time, darling." Nigun singsonged, and he let the bag drop on the ground floor's only sofa in front of a cold chimney. He filled it with coal bricks from a nearby stack, lit them with a match, and walked further back into the house.
While Gazed waited politely at the door, Momonga stepped with Albedo to the little table before the sofa and picked up one of the files from the messy pile on it. It had a six-sided star in its header, and Albedo went slowly with a finger over the symbols next to it and read for him.
"'Internal Investigations'."
A relieved groan, followed by a wet splash, sounded from upstairs. The End heard a toilet flush and heavy steps, and looked back to the stairs, where Gazef looked flabbergasted up, and marvelled, "I never thought I'd see tanks roll again."
Momonga had enough. He tensed to jump on his infuriating ploy, but stopped when he saw the first massive calve step on the creaking stairway. Gazef was not far off the mark. What came down was a veritable Valkyrie, build like a bear and with a matching glare in her blue eyes.
"Who are you?" She demanded to know with a raised finger, which was tattooed with fine writing like the rest of her well-defined arms.
Momonga was certain, if it came to blows, his Gazef would easily win, but he still answered meekly, "Gazef. Stronoff."
"Stronoff." Dana let the words roll in her mouth, till realization hit her and she asked, "The Warrior Captain from Re-Estize?"
"Ja, though it's ex-Warrior Captain now. I had a falling out."
"Did you? Nig, dear, have you brought guests along?"
"More like a stray," Nigun called from the backroom, and Momonga wondered when the captain had become so bold.
Albedo also looked morbidly fascinated and asked him without looking away from Dana. "Why does she have fur on her arms?"
"That's normal. All human women have body hair, but I think most shave it off."
"All over..."
He regretted sharing that information when he saw Albedo pale and force down a blob of bile. He had not done his goal of sympathizing her to humanity a favour with it.
Nigun returned with the bunch and an opened wine bottle. Dana looked aghast when she saw him and rushed down the stairs. The bonehead quickly pushed the flowers and drinks into Gazef's hands, before she got hold of Nigun's head and inspected the naked skin with worried eyes.
"Nig! What happened to your hair?"
"That is not easy-"
"And where's your uniform?"
"Dana-"
"What happened? Do I've to be worried?"
"Dana! Let us just enjoy this moment. Please," Nigun begged and took hold of her hands, forcing them carefully down, before he placed a soft kiss on her lips. The Valkyrie calmed and laid a massive arm around Nigun's neck; meanwhile, he combed her blond locks behind her ear and ran his hand down her spine.
While his servants watched the tender exchange, Momonga heard several sharp whispers and boots – many boots, in fact – on the street. The time had come.
"Albedo."
"Hmm?" She mused, entranced by the scene.
"Have Mare get ready."
"Just..."
"Now, Albedo."
"Yes, at once. I am sorry, Lord Momonga." Albedo composed herself, blushing, and brought her free hand to her temple.
'[Message] "Pandora's Actor, it is time. Get out."'
'"Jawohl, mein Schoepfer!"' yes, my creator!
Gazef cleared his throat. "Ehm, maybe I should give you some private space. Yes, that seems appropriate."
The arm on Nigun's back shooed him out, but Momonga did not miss Dana not only looked past her lover's head to Gazef, yet also the windows next to the entrance.
"See you later, Captain."
As soon as the door clicked shut, Momonga heard metal rattle and a hoarse throat bellow.
"Hold right there!"
"Gentlemen, what is the matter?"
"I said hold!"
Nigun also finally notice the noise and disentangled from the reluctant Dana to move for the door. Barely a few steps on his way, a subtle sizzle turned into a deafening growl, till the windows' glass burst inwards.
The humans were knocked off their feet by the monstrous roar, while Momonga calmly – and unnecessarily, at that – shielded Albedo with his robe from the shards. Flame streams brighter than a magnesium flare shot past the burst windows and ignited the curtains by the ambient heat alone.
Momonga knew he was finished here when he saw golden scales on a gigantic reptilian foot walk by, and opened a [Gate] back to the grounds of Nazarick. The pastoral green on the other side appeared surreal compared to the burning devastation, where the cacophony of bestial roars, breaking stone, and desperate screams drowned out the birds he usually heard when making a trip home.
His fallen guardian angel gave no sign of minding the quickly-spreading flames. Momonga was not certain if it was the fire's light reflecting off her alabaster skin or a sincere blush when he offered her to step first through the wormhole, but she at last released his hand as she left Humanitas.
As the building shook and dust rained from the ceiling, the End felt for the first time since arriving in the New World like he was truly missing something. One foot had already stepped through the [Gate] when he looked back.
Nigun lay motionless over his also-still wife, with glass shards and splinters embedded in his back and scalp, his arms forced around her blonde mane. Seeing him like that, Momonga had no choice but be reminded of his first meeting with the priest.
"Sentimental fool," he muttered, and reached into his inventory for a potion. He walked to the fallen couple and spilled the red liquid over them, like dowsing a tire in gasoline, before letting the bottle just drop and entering the portal himself.
The outskirts of Nazarick felt unaccustomed, despite having walked it so many times. Maybe it was the lack of chatting people after spending the past days with the humans in Slane – the relative quiet broken only by the occasional chirp. Momonga did not want to dwell on it and closed the [Gate] as he stepped towards his servants.
Albedo watched him from the corner of her eyes with a faint smirk, while Pandora's Actor, his egg-headed creation, was scratching his head and wondered, "Wo bleibt der Meister? Gab es eine Planaenderung? Albedo, glaubt ihr, ihm koennte etwas zugestossen sein?" Where remains the master? Was there a change of plan? Albedo, do you think something happened to him?
"I'm standing right here, fool." Momonga said, but Pandora's Actor did not acknowledge him and went on.
"Vielleicht sollten wir Shalltear holen und noch ein [Gate] öffnen? Die Sicherheit Meister Momonga's ist Nazarick's oberste Prioritaet!" Maybe we should call Shalltear and open another [Gate]? The master's safety is Nazarick's foremost priority!
"Right... here..." Momonga seethed and balled his fists, before he saw Albedo tip her nose and suggest.
"Perhaps he forgot something. You have seen how he likes to cloak himself in mystery."
'Forgot some- Perfect Unknowable!'
The insight washed over him and he dismissed the spell he had maintained all day and forgotten in a dim corner of his mind. Pandora's Actor jumped back like a scared chicken and cursed.
"Bei der eierlegenden Wollmichsau, wie konnte ich eure erhabene Gestalt nur uebersehen, mein Gebieter!? Ich bitte tausendfach um Entschuldigung!" By the egg laying wool-milk-sow, how could I not see your exalted form, my lord! I beg a thousand times for your forgiveness!
Momonga sighed, mostly at his own foolishness and truly forgave his creation. "It's alright, P.A.; even I rarely stray."
Instead of the snark he expected, Albedo graciously doubted. "That has still to be seen."
"Ich kann es mir auch kaum vorstellen, aber euer Wort ist natuerlich Gesetz, Meister Momonga." I too can hardy imagine that, but your word is law, naturally, Master Momonga.
"Anyway, I want you two to have some maids stand ready in the spa. I'm fairly certain Mare would like a thorough bath once his pet spits him out again. Come afterwards with Cocytus to the treasury. I want to be prepared for getting our friends in Slane a suitable present."
"Sofort!" At once!
Pandora's Actor saluted and marched off for the entrance into the Tomb. Albedo also was about to set off, but Momonga held her back by her arm till the doppelgaenger had left, and asked then.
"How come you saw me? Not just now, but also this morning?"
Her hand softly, caressing his cheek, before following Pandora's Actor. "You still have my blessing."
The ground crunched as he walked through the remains in the twilight. The proud-looking tin bust of his father had turned into formless slag, the picture of the 63 – "Always Free"; his tour's unit – had been reduced to the cinders of its frame, his carefully-selected collection of books was now only a heap of wafting ash; but most importantly: The uniforms Dana and him had worn at their wedding became a memory where their bedroom used to be.
Everything material he once held dear was gone. Only the blackened skeleton of his home was left.
Nigun wished he had been right. He wished his fear would have come true and he had died after holding Dana one last time. The rescue teams had called it a miracle of the gods he and Dana survived with almost no injury. They were wrong.
After the murder of Braesla, he had resolved himself to his duty. He had found brief peace in the thought of reporting Ainz to the cardinals and await the monster's revenge together with his love. It was the only course his conscience allowed.
He could not lead his people blindly to the horror which had set its eyes on them, and he also could not bear the thought of sacrificing his deepest confidant in the name of duty and live on, knowing she died because of his choice.
Cardinal Yvon Jasna Dracrowa, his superior, had not berated him for the loss of the Sunlight Scripture. She had listened with patience as he recounted his experience, gave him time to collect himself when it became too much, and offered to pray together with him, if he wanted.
He declined.
He said he was not sure if he was ready to ask for the gods' forgiveness, and she also accepted that, accepted all of his decision in the end.
Nigun had had no illusions he would not be shadowed when he told her he would meet Ainz afterwards. He had no misconception a hit squad would not follow them. He had only dreamed he would fall with Dana in the crossfire, before the undead got hold of her.
And yet here he stood, in the ash of his life.
Nigun sunk down on a fallen beam and stared out at the smouldering remains of his neighbourhood. The brandy bottle in his hand felt heavy, and he decided to change that. It almost touched his lips when he noticed the smoke had stopped curling.
He let it down again and said, "Hello, Ainz."
He heard the nestle of fine velvet, the creak of charred wood, as something massive sat down next to him, and a voice, deep like a dry well, asked, "No more 'Lord Gown'?"
"There are no lords worth that title in this world. You taught me that," answered Nigun.
"Yes," it admitted after a while. "I hoped to teach you a lot of things."
He did not honour it with a comment. He could do well without any more of its self-serving lessons.
"Sorry for the collateral on your home; my hand was forced."
"Liar."
As always.
Nigun Puffed.
"And your career."
"That was not your decision."
"Maybe not."
"It was mine. I quit," Nigun clarified, and took his first mouthful from the brandy. It was not good – not old enough, certainly – it only burned where it touched. "I will teach the aspirants."
"So a new direction, back to the starting line? Perhaps this will help." Ainz offered, and he heard a tingling sack drop.
"I will pass. Keep you false benedictions."
"Think of Dana. You will need a new home, furnishing and food, to keep the whale from munching-"
"Shut! Up!" Nigun snapped, just short of roaring, and the bottle's glass started to crack in his balling hand. "Don't you dare saying one more slander against Dana. You might have your succubus to serve you, but you know nothing of true affection, of love!"
"I-"
"The idea of trust, of letting yourself fall into the assurance of real confidence, is something a walking falsehood like you can never know! I know myself she is not an example of commonly-agreed upon beauty, but there much more to love in her than any of your spit-licking bimbos!
"Dana is true to heart, she has conviction, principles and courage, things you have not even found in yourself! For all your power, you are just lonely fool, who will never fill the emptiness in its chest!
Go back and enjoy your sublime power alone. Go back and rot in your eternal desolation, you pitiful idiot!"
The smoke began to curl again, and for the first time Nigun felt like he had earned a victory against Ainz. The brandy tasted all at once wonderful, as he watched the rising sun through the hole in the city wall.