Written by: AtheistBasementDragon
Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots
AN: Thanks for reading this far, the overall 'storyline' with 'world building' side stories is now well over 200 chapters, and it has gone over 920,000 words. This has been amazing, so thank you all for reading it. We're coming to the end of Act II pretty soon here and some huge changes to the story coming with it. If you've enjoyed this story so far, you can participate in the 'live writing' where you can watch the story unfold in real time (link pasted into the beta reading channel on discord) discord members seem to have found it to be entertaining to watch happen.
...Arwintar...
Emperor Jircniv was tired, one could even say he was feeling... old. He rarely felt like this, but he was living in trying times and sometimes, just sometimes, he felt every minute like it was an hour. This was one of those days.
The cause of this was a letter, a letter he had never thought he would see. He sat alone in his private office and poured himself a glass of deep red wine, it was a gift of the Sorcerer King. He didn't drink, he just held the glass between two fingers while reading the letter over and over again as if he could not believe the words written therein.
He looked from the glass to the letter and from the letter to the glass. The red of the wine reminded him of blood, and despite his title as 'The Bloody Emperor' the thought, the reminder... it got to him.
It might not have, but for the contents of the document. It was a letter from Raymond. Not someone he ever thought he'd hear from. When the letter had arrived he'd had the messenger immediately confined in isolation, closed the royal court, and went to his back office to read it alone.
Every word was heart rending. Not in the personal sense to himself as if a dear friend was suffering, but much more like he could recognize the hardship of a stranger. Raymond was not someone he knew well, he only knew the man by reputation save for the brief meeting in the Draconic Kingdom, however as more reports had filtered in, he'd come to a greater appreciation for the man himself as someone principled, but also agonized over the inevitable fate he foresaw for his people.
Those who rule nations are part of a very small family, they and they alone can understand the struggles of their neighbors, and know them so very well that even an enemy can become like a brother. In a very real sense, any war was 'brother against brother' and save where personal hatred or ambitious goals 'required' another to die, some manner of accommodation could usually be reached between the two combatants, a certain 'understanding' was possible.
That however, had not been the case throughout much of the war thus far. The Slane Theocracy, King Astraka of the Roble Holy Kingdom, the Elf King, & King Philip had thrown off that understanding between nations in their zealous hatred of the Sorcerer King and his religious followers. That made this letter especially unexpected.
He read over it again, still in disbelief, the language was carefully constructed as one would expect, after all, he was an educated man. However, his intentions were not diplomatic, they were moral, they were personal, it carried the spirit of a man who was heartbroken, like someone whose child had run off somewhere and for whom he was still reaching.
In a very real sense, Jircniv supposed that was the case. General Zetsumei's betrayal was well known to the Slane Theocracy leadership by now, and it came as no surprise to the Bloody Emperor in retrospect when the details came to light. Whatever the case, however, it wasn't the betrayal that seemed to pain the Cardinal, rather it seemed to be that the betrayal was amply deserved, and he was seeking Emperor Jircniv as an intermediary between himself and the Sorcerer King.
The very first words had caught his eyes, "Help me save them."
He imagined for a moment he was seeking some way to end the conflict without losing the entire population to military decimation, but as he'd read on, it became evident that Raymond was fearing a wholesale slaughter of the elven population as scapegoats in Cardinal Dominic's mad grab for power.
He set the letter down and drank the wine, then refilled the glass and drank that one too. He exhaled deeply and stood up from behind his desk and walked over to a map of the world he knew that was pinned up on the wall. A marker was held up by a string next to the map, today's report indicated that General Boabdil of the Slane Theocracy and his eighty thousand man army had been roundly defeated by General Enri and thousands upon thousands of soldiers had been taken prisoner. He reached for the marker and began to color in more of the map in front of him.
This had become a habit recently, every time he heard of a gain of some sort, he'd wait a little while, have a glass of wine, and then mark on the map what had changed.
He looked over the other reports on the desk that morning, there was no opposition in Re-Estize left except for the capital and one no account city in the southwest named 'Re-Lobell' and armies were already marching on both locations. That would knock one 'ally' permanently out of the Slane Theocracy's alliance, it was only a matter of time before those soldiers were used against their former allies.
Now the problem at hand... he looked down at the ground. He owed Raymond nothing, acting as an intermediary for an enemy nation in the middle of a war, in particular one of their leaders, probably wasn't the best idea in the world, not a way to endear oneself.
"I don't really have a choice though, do I?" He said to the empty room as he looked back over at the letter. Despite the fact that it was impossible, he felt like the letter was telling him 'No, you don't.'
"Damn it all to hell." Jircniv thought, and used one of the Message Scrolls that had been provided for his usage and sent a message to the Sorcerer King's butler requesting to see him.
"The Sorcerer King is not here at the moment." Sebas replied.
"Oh, can I come and wait for him, I think this is important." Jircniv replied.
"You will be waiting for a bit, he's gone to the Understone Empire, I don't know how long he will be, it may be as much as a week." Sebas replied.
That caught the emperor off guard. "The Understone Empire, why has he gone there if I might ask?"
"I'm sure he can inform you of that when he returns, in the meantime, if you require an immediate decision, Lady Albedo is available to assist if the matter is urgent." Sebas replied.
Jircniv shuddered, beautiful as she was, the bloody emperor had long felt there to be something deeply disturbing about the overseer. However, as he considered the matter in brief, he decided it would be better to present the letter and the subject and leave it in her hands to make the decision.
"That will be fine. If you'll open the gate, I will come immediately." The emperor said and snatched the letter off the desk. The gate opened and he stepped through.
...Nazarick...
He still wasn't used to that, so it never ceased to impress. Once on the other side he looked around, the throne room was practically empty, only Sebas, Demiurge, and Albedo were present. Arguably that was better. The throne was vacant and the two guardians stood on either side while Sebas stood patiently to the left at the foot of the stairs. When he got his bearings, Jircniv approached the steps and knelt deferentially. While 'nominally' something resembling an equal as he was a head of state under the same ruler as themselves, Albedo stood at the top in the absence of his majesty, and the bloody emperor was under no illusions about how she saw their relative positions.
"What brings you here today?" Albedo asked perfunctorily after granting him permission to rise.
Jircniv reached within his pocket and took out the letter. "This does, Lady Albedo. It is a letter delivered to me from Cardinal Raymond of the Slane Theocracy." He walked up the stairs at a gesture of acceptance when she held out her hand, and he placed it there in her palm before descending the steps again to await her input. He stood with his hands folded behind his back and waited in silence as she read it. When she was through, she handed it to Demiurge and waited until he'd finished as well.
"So, he wants the Sorcerer King's help, does he?" She asked, "He goes to war with our master, denies his godhood, and sends his soldiers to war after all but desecrating the terms of agreement that he himself signed, and now he asks to meet with our lord and gain his HELP?!" Albedo's voice grew steadily more outraged as she spoke, and in that moment she looked every inch the demon she was, her wings shook with fury behind her.
"If I may, Lady Albedo..." Demiurge said in his most reasonable tone of voice.
"Yes, Demiurge?" She asked with mild irritation.
"I believe there are several things we should remember here, first that while Raymond signed the treaty, he opposed its breach, and even according to General Zetsumei, he stands apart from his colleagues. Given what we know of our generous lord, I believe he would be willing to offer support for the increasingly outcast Cardinal."
"Oh?" Albedo asked, no less disinterested than before.
"May I suggest something?" Jircniv asked from where he stood, they looked at him in surprise, as if they had forgotten he was there.
"Yes?" Albedo asked curtly.
Jircniv did not openly sigh, however, in a rare moment in which he was 'moved' by another's plight, he took the plunge and kept that sigh inside his own head where it belonged. "I believe Lord Demiurge is correct. However, while I do not presume to know the Sorcerer King so well as your esteemed selves, it seems to me that he would act in such a way that provided maximal aid to an internal supporter, maximal harm to an opponent, and maximal benefits to his own aims, am I wrong?" The emperor asked, spreading his hands out from behind him questioningly.
"You are not." Albedo said flatly.
"Then it seems to me that all of these things can be achieved in one blow. If he is successful in getting the slaves relocated from the farms, then depriving the Theocracy of the labor would ensure they have no harvest, and they will be entering the last harvest very soon. I have commanded my military for many years, and I can tell you that an army marches on its stomach. Deprive them of their last harvest and their soldiers will be gravely weakened by half rations or worse. They will no longer be able to field large armies, and to merely arrive at a city will be to herald its defeat. All this while furthering the just cause of the Sorcerer King and ensuring vast numbers recognize his godhood and that he is their savior, the one they should truly worship. After the war is over, when the Sorcerer King has harvested the crops of the lands he's occupied, he can then feed the surviving population with their own food and win their gratitude. Similar to what happened with Re-Estize, isn't it?" Jircniv asked practically.
"I admit I was thinking of something similar to that." Demiurge said, offering his reluctant endorsement to the human emperor.
"Are those enough benefits?" Albedo asked doubtfully.
"Maybe?" Demiurge said, "Without Lord Ainz, this is probably the best we can come up with, perhaps, nay, certainly he foresaw these events." The demon looked frustrated and his tail lashed behind him.
Jircniv bit his lip, "I admit I am curious as to why he's gone to the Understone Empire for so long while there is a war going on, should I be concerned?" He asked uncomfortably. He normally did not press questions of this sort, but such an absence rarely boded well.
Demiurge casually laughed and said, "Oh, he's gone to bring their country under his rule."
"Oh, is that... wait, what!?" The emperor said with his mouth left hanging open.
Albedo laughed, "I believe you heard correctly, they are in our path, and so an... understanding must be reached. He went to see to it himself, when he comes back in a few days, we'll have a new ally and a new vassal, and within a few days of that, part of the mountain will be gone. That will in turn give us an easy path of march for Re-Estize soldiers to move South. No doubt Aura and Mare are working hard to bring the Dark Elves into the fold as well, and that will provide all we need in support of General Leinas and Aureole Omega as they move in to the interior of the Slane Theocracy."
Emperor Jircniv swallowed hard. "I should not be surprised, but every time I think I have seen his zenith, he raises the bar again." He said in a slow, soft voice.
"So it is with all of us." Demiurge said with awe.
"So it is." Albedo said with ample desire filling her eyes. "My precious Lord Ainz..." She added in a soft voice that was only audible to the emperor because of the acoustics of the perfectly constructed throne room.
"What then will be done?" Jircniv asked.
"Send a communication informing him that he will have his wish granted. He should expect to be seeing our lord in seven days." Lady Albedo said patiently.
"It will be done." Emperor Jircniv said, "I will release the messenger and send him back with a letter of my own, will we send him back with a gate, or through the standard method?"
"We will [Gate] him to his own territory, after that the delivery is his responsibility." Lady Albedo said.
"It will be as you say." The emperor replied, "Is there anything further?" He asked.
"No, nothing." She said, and when the gate was opened again, he returned back to his office and sat down to write.
...Raymond's Home Office...
"Well, what do you want me to do about it, Berenice?" Raymond asked.
"I don't know." She said as she looked down wringing her hands that still sat in her lap.
"What about you, Ginedine?" Raymond asked, his voice betraying his frustration with every word.
"I don't know either, but there has to be something." He replied.
"OK, so let's look at what we've managed and what we can't manage. The price of slaves has gone up thanks to our 'security proposals', so we've got that in our favor, and we've managed as a consequence to reduce the general abuse. However, there isn't a chance in hell that they'll support a tax on the brothels, and if Dominic doesn't back it, it doesn't happen. We've already lost the shutdown fight and there is no way we'll win the tax fight. Even the revenue promise won't do it, those places are too important and too influential." Raymond said, his voice soft, almost broken.
"I know but... shouldn't we at least try?" Ginedine said in disgust.
An elf girl entered the room bearing a tray with a cup of tea, there was no denying that she'd heard the subject under discussion, as she'd silently laid the cups down in front of each of them, the haunted glassy look in her eyes told them plenty.
"Yes and no." Raymond said sharply, "Yes we should, but trying isn't good enough, this has to work or we'll only undermine ourselves." He said in exasperation.
"So you'll just let it happen? Let those places stay open, what are you, a customer over there?" Berenice snapped hatefully, clenching her hands into fists and shooting to her feet.
"NO!" Raymond yelled loud enough to shake the walls and he smashed his fist down hard at his desk. "I want them burned! I want them dead!" The desk buckled under the weight of a former black scripture's blow and he looked down at the desk. The elf girl responded to the dispute by shrinking back against the wall, crouching down and covering her head in fear. She let out a terrified little cry, and it brought Raymond back to reality.
He looked down at the desk, tea had splashed everywhere and he forced himself to control his breathing.
He moved over to the elf girl, he wondered how old she was, she looked young enough to be his daughter, but she was probably much older than he. Unlike him, however, he was a former Black Scripture, she was... something of a rescue.
Raymond crouched next to her and touched her shoulder. "Nua... it's OK." He said softly, "It's alright, I'm not mad at you, not even a little, I'm sorry I spilled your tea, I'm sure it was marvelous, nobody is going to hurt you here, I promise you, OK?" He asked as he tried to comfort and calm the girl.
She got ahold of herself, giving small rapid nods and slowly rising to her feet, "I'll... I'll go get some more tea, sir." She said with a nervous, crooked little smile.
"That would be wonderful, thank you." Raymond said gently.
She scurried out and Raymond looked at the broken desk.
It was then that Ginedine spoke up. "There's the answer." He said, his voice was colder, more malicious and cruel than Raymond had ever heard from him.
"What?" Berenice asked uncertainly.
"I liked that desk." Raymond said in annoyance at himself. "But losing it will be worth it if its destruction gave you a good idea."
"It did, and if it didn't, I'll buy you a new damn desk." Ginedine said confidently.
This had Berenice's and Raymond's full attention. Nobody had ever called Ginedine 'generous with his money' before.
"The 'solution' happened once before, remember?" Ginedine asked in a savage tone of voice.
"What? Speak clearly, man." Raymond said, and then went silent. "You can't mean?"
Ginedine nodded.
"Someone want to tell me?" Berenice asked in annoyance.
"We need a new serial killer." Ginedine said, and Berenice went quiet.
"I'm not Zesshi." Raymond said with a shake of his head, "Even as a former Black Scripture, I can't be sure I won't run into people in those places I can't defeat, and I don't know the undercity the way she did, no way I can accomplish the same ends."
"So don't." Berenice added. "Target the owners, kill them in their homes, and do some damage to the 'facilities' so that they'll have to be repaired. Terror is a useful tool, and some of those places will close, then we can privately buy up the..." She paused and spat the last word out in disgust, 'stock' cheaply. It should be easy to create a company that operates beyond the city, dummy up some phony earnings, put the slaves to some kind of nominal work until we can find a way to get them out."
Raymond looked thoughtful. "Fine. I'll do it. One by one, I'll kill them all, you two handle the rest, I'll get started tonight, I already know my first target." And when Raymond stopped speaking, the expression on his face reminded them why he was one of the rare Black Scripture members to survive to his present age. Ferocity like that was rare, and it reminded them very much of the walking nightmare that had dared to sneer at the elf king's attempt at intimidation.
It was almost enough for them to pity the people he was going to start hunting.
Almost.
But not quite.
It was then that Nua returned, and Raymond was all smiles again as he took a saucer and a cup from the fragile looking girl. "Thank you, Nua, I'm sure it will be marvelous."
...Aboard ship...
Zesshi wasn't happy. Not because she didn't like her mission, she was quite enthusiastic about that. Not because she was unhappy with her soldiers, she couldn't be prouder. Not because she did not wish to serve the Sorcerer King. In her short time in his service she'd grown increasingly confident that not only had she made the right choice, but that the only problem was that she hadn't joined him sooner.
No, what made her unhappy was being on a ship. She did not like sailing as it turned out. It made the food taste weird, it made her stomach feel weird, and there was neither any place to go or very much to do. The cursed captain was no help either, she only spoke in rhyme and it was always very snarky if Zesshi was feeling polite, downright rude if she wasn't.
It was for that reason that she was grateful when she saw the reports that Fortress Igan had been sighted in the distance. What she didn't like was this meant she had to go see the captain again.
Zesshi walked into the wheel house without knocking, that always pissed off the bitch, and that always made Zesshi feel a little bit better.
"Why do you come to disturb my work? I cannot quit, I cannot shirk." She said without looking behind her.
"The lightboat spotted the fortress, we're getting close." Zesshi said.
"Yes I know, and soon you'll go." She said.
"Not that soon. I want us to stop for the day." Zesshi said bluntly.
That got the captain to stop and turn around.
"It is my job to take you there, if you don't like it, I don't care." The pale, waterlogged, dead looking woman said in annoyance.
"It's my job to win this war, that is what you're really for." Zesshi said, sending a snarky rhyme mockingly back at the captain, whose eyes widened with surprise.
It threw her off, and Zesshi capitalized on that moment, "I want to attack at night, by surprise, so first I want a lightboat for myself, I will row in, climb the cliffs, and secure ropes for my soldiers to the cliffside walls. If Queen Draudillon has attacked Yaksun, the fortress should be nearly empty and on minimal manning, I can then take the place with ease..." The captain raised her dripping rotted hand to stop her.
"You can leave this ship, please use my slip." The woman answered, clearly disinterested in the rest of the details.
"Feed my soldiers well while I am gone, follow after me when the sunset's done." Zesshi replied.
She left without another word and went to the captain's private slip, there was a boat there that looked like it had no business floating. It had rotted planks and holes, like it was something dredged from the bottom of the sea. Yet after all this time, Zesshi had absolutely no doubt it would serve well, despite appearances. Nobody had fallen through a hole, indeed it seemed the holes themselves were not real, like it was an illusion or a painting over a real substance.
Why that was, she had only the most mild curiosity. What really mattered was that it worked. So she lowered herself with the boat and a number of very long ropes and began to row.
She'd never rowed a rowboat before, orienting herself backwards was very counter intuitive, yet as she did so, she found it to be very easy. She smirked, humanity's trump card could do this for weeks without tiring, that much she was sure of.
Whether that was true or not, who knew? What she did know was that she was able to do it with incredible speed, back and forth her back rocked and the oars cast off water and foot by foot the ship she'd been on shrank behind her, in her little craft there was very little chance of being noticed, she wished she could see the expression on Dominic's face when he learned he'd lost the fortress and the city.
She saw the anchor's splash down into the sea, the captain might not like her, but she'd obeyed, and that was all General Zesshi Zetsumei needed, so on she rowed.
...Queen Draudillon's Army...
The Queen was less than pleased, but she was nonetheless confident. Behind her marched an army of thousands, a number of fresh recruits had marched double time to join her forces, word from Vermillion at home was that the reports of victory had sparked a celebration that had radiated out from the capital city and prompted mass enlistments into the armed services. Cavalry, infantry, archers, scouts, healers, and more, every corps had a waiting list now.
The Forlorn Fortress had been a much hated structure for many generations, not because of anything that anybody there had done, but because it reminded the entire Draconic Kingdom that as far as the Slane Theocracy was concerned, Draconic citizens were meat shields to be helped only so long as it was necessary, and ignored the rest of the time.
Its fall had not inspired mixed feelings in the resentful population, it had inspired an unwavering loyalty and an admiration for the royal house for the first time in a long time.
What had the Queen less than pleased was that she hadn't seen any indication that the Slane Theocracy knew she was coming, and that was profoundly suspicious.
"Could they want us to lay a siege?"
General Musan stroked his gray stubble thoughtfully. "Maybe, they're probably on the defensive after the Forlorn Fortress. Our scouts have been coming back though, so either the city isn't putting up resistance, or they don't know we're here, and I really doubt that last one." His voice was a deep bass that matched his barrel chest, thick calluses on his hands spoke of many years of time holding a sword and being in the field. It gave him credibility that helped him survive Queen Draudillon's purges.
General Oma spoke up, "I agree with General Musan, they're waiting for us, in all probability they've got Fortress Igan nearly empty of support to protect the city."
"Why do you say that?" Queen Draudillon asked.
"Fortress Igan by itself is meaningless, it exists for no other reason than to protect the city, therefore it stands to reason that if we're going to attack the city, call for help from the fortress." She explained, rotating one hand as she explained, while the other remained firmly gripped on the reins of her horse.
The Queen looked over the olive skin of the young general, she was beautiful, in a 'hardy' sort of way. She wondered if the little pointed tips on her ears had ever posed her problems, elven ancestry still had a lot of biases carried with it, even generations removed.
To her credit, Queen Draudillon didn't hold such views, as someone not fully human herself, this was to be expected, all she cared about was competence and integrity, and Oma had both, which was why 'she' had survived the purges.
Draudillon nodded along with them, "That makes sense." She said thoughtfully, reflecting that it was a lot easier to understand these things while sober. "I suppose it's General Zesshi's turn to get the easy job this time anyway. So what kind of resistance do you think we can expect?" She asked.
"The fortress probably had a total force of around ten thousand, but unlike the Forlorn Fortress, it likely wasn't all combatants, so three to five thousand soldiers and the rest specialists who carried out military roles and administration and so on." General Musan suggested.
"Maybe, but the Slane Theocracy requires military training for the sake of defending humanity, we can expect any noncombatants will still function at least as well as a militia." General Oma proposed.
"Will they completely abandon the fortress?" Queen Draudillon asked.
"Probably not, we can expect minimal manning though, just enough to defend it against minor incursions." General Musan said after a moment's thought.
"So maybe five hundred to one thousand less will go to Yaksun, which if my reports were accurate, had a standing army of five thousand soldiers, with around five thousand militia potentials." General Oma added.
"I see." Queen Draudillon answered, "So we can expect that we'll outnumber them somewhere between three to one and two to one?"
"Yes, your majesty." General Musan said.
"Unless General Zesshi comes to help, that will give us substantially more." General Oma pointed out.
"Perhaps, but this is our job, and it would be a national humiliation if we failed at the first task we had to do on our own. I won't throw my people's lives away over vanity, but anything that decreases the worth of our people in the eyes of the Sorcerer King should be considered to be very, very bad. So if we can do this ourselves, we should." The Queen added, drawing serious looks from her generals, they didn't comment further on that, they didn't need to, and they rode in silence until the walls came into view, with a row of soldiers already standing atop it, waiting and watching.
"I guess they're not going to surrender." Queen Draudillon said, "So let's get this started."
"Yes, your majesty!" The two generals said enthusiastically, and they started raising signal flags, giving orders that would further and forever alter the world they all knew.