God Rising: The Cult of Ainz
Written by: AtheistBasementDragon
Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots
Chapter 150: Revelations
...Nazarick...
The skeletal hand of Ainz struck his permanently neutral face. "Why?! Why is she behaving like Pandora's Actor?!" He asked himself, aghast as he watched Neia rip the pride of the South asunder. He let his hand fall back to his side. "Still, I suppose I should praise her, she destroyed the reputation of a Theocracy general and destroyed their twenty thousand man remaining army. But... what test did she mean?" He wondered out loud.
He shut off the mirror of remote viewing and went to his private office where he summoned Demiurge to join him. He was just getting settled into his seat when the demon arrived. The archdevil bowed deeply and said with head low, "How may I serve you, My Lord?" His voice filled with deep and abiding respect and a hint of unrestrained enthusiasm.
"Demiurge, did you recently put Neia Baraja through some sort of test?" Ainz asked with mild curiosity as he busied himself sorting through documents.
"No, My Lord." Demiurge answered with surprise.
Ainz went quiet and he began to wonder if he'd misunderstood what Neia had said to him.
"I did put her through a test some time ago, near the time the war began." He straightened himself and cocked his head as if doubtful, "We saw the degree of loyalty she was showing and we debated its actual depth, therefore to be sure of it, during a visit to Nazarick, I presented her with the Dagger of Paradox, and told her that you had ordered her to take her own life, that you required it for your use." His face went gleeful, with a wide smile beneath his crystalline eyes, his hands practically shook with a near orgasmic bliss, "She tried, she tried so hard to kill herself, she thrust the dagger at her heart, tried to slash her throat, stab herself through her eyes, she went nearly mad before she begged forgiveness for failing to die. It was... beautiful, on so many levels. Beautiful in the way she was tormented yes, but to my astonishment, and to the astonishment of Albedo, the greatest beauty in that moment was how like us she was. She reminded us of Shalltear and Cocytus, eager to atone for the sin of failing you. But... that was the only test to which I have subjected her to."
Ainz listened in quiet contemplation as Demiurge explained what had taken place, when he was done, the Sorcerer King asked quietly, "Demiurge... is she aware that this test was not of my design?"
"She is, My Lord. I informed her immediately that you had not given such a command." He inclined his head as he spoke, affirming the truth of his statement, but then bit his lip nervously. "My Lord, did I do something... wrong?"
Ainz did not answer right away, "How did she respond, after you told her everything?" He asked, setting aside the documents and giving Demiurge his full attention with a very long stare.
"She... hugged me. I have never seen a human so full of joy." Demiurge chuckled with amusement.
Ainz's jaw dropped at the image of Neia hugging the archdevil. "So she responded well," he coughed into his skeletal hand to cover his surprise and continued, "I'm glad of that but, is it possible that she sustained any lasting trauma as a result?"
That gave Demiurge pause. "My Lord, I honestly don't know." He began to sweat bullets, "Ah, if I damaged your servant, please allow me to atone! Perhaps I can fix her, or should I simply end my life for the oversight?!" He began to fidget uncomfortably under the Sorcerer King's stare.
Ainz let out a sigh and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Please sit, Demiurge."
Uncomfortable with such an informal approach, the archdevil nonetheless obeyed, if slower than his usual hup to.
"Tell me, how is Vanysa?" Ainz asked. The blankness of the expression on Demiurge's face and his sudden silence told the Sorcerer King that the question was unexpected.
"I-I do not understand." Demiurge said as he shifted in his chair.
"You have observed her at rest have you not?" Ainz asked patiently. "What does she do?"
"She thrashes, sometimes she wakes up screaming." Demiurge answered succinctly in a clinically disinterested voice, his face neutral as if describing lunch.
"Do you know 'why' that is, Demiurge?" Ainz asked with genuine curiosity. 'I wonder if perhaps the NPCs are capable of understanding something of this sort. True they are 'alive' now, but they are still unique as living beings, can they grasp the complexities of the mind?' Ainz asked the question in his own head as he looked the archdevil over.
"I do not." Demiurge answered, lowering his head and then grabbing it in frustration, "Forgive me for not knowing the answer, My Lord!" He exclaimed and he shook with frustration.
"It's quite alright, Demiurge." Ainz began to explain patiently, "You and the other guardians are creations of my friends and I, we did not imbue you with this knowledge. It wasn't necessary before. The simple answer is that her past haunts her. If you were to be tortured, I suspect that as much as it would hurt at the time, afterward you would return to just being yourself. But the suffering of those outside of this place, is carried with them all their lives, it shapes who they are so that they are beings in constant flux, their personalities reshaped by their experiences over the course of life. Tell me, Demiurge, what did you think of what Neia did at Yanana yesterday?"
Demiurge's face split in an enormous smile, "Worthy of a guardian in its brutality and efficiency, maximum destruction, minimum cost, that she did it without magic was even more impressive."
"Would you have thought her capable of it five years ago?" Ainz asked, extending his hand as if offering, or asking to be given, an answer.
Demiurge thought it over, he stroked his chin and evaluated her choices over that time. "No. No, My Lord. I don't think she would have done that."
Ainz nodded sharply, "Precisely. She has changed, all of them have. When you tested Neia, you imposed a change on her by presenting her with a choice that was brutal in its nature. I will not censure you for this because I know why it was done, but you must come to learn more about the minds of our subjects, lest you unintentionally damage their greatest abilities."
"I see, your wisdom and ability to understand these creatures is... truly unfathomable, My Lord. I will bear your instruction in mind at all times." Demiurge replied with a grave voice, his hands folded tight on his lap.
"Good, you are among my best, Demiurge, don't take this as a rebuke, it worked out, but in all tests there may be unintended consequences, understanding those is also necessary to achieve our goals." Ainz said patiently and then waved Demiurge to the door.
"You are gracious in educating your ignorant servant. Thank you, My Lord." Demiurge replied as he stood, bowed, and departed, leaving Ainz alone to sigh in relief and in concern.
...Hoburns...
"She did what?" Calca went pale as a cotton sheet.
Robel read the document again. "She erased the city of Yanana from existence. As far as we know, only a squad's worth of people survived. Beyond that, single rebel soldier, resident, and every single theocracy soldier was killed, she then destroyed the city down to its foundations and had her cavalry ride over the site so there would be no evidence it ever existed. The few who survived her destruction were allowed to go south to bear the story of her visit." Robel stood with back straight and eyes fixed firmly on the document, his youthful face was flushed red and sweat beaded on his skin as he read the report that Neia sent to him.
"Even... the demihumans under Jaldabaoth were not so complete in their destruction." Calca said from her throne, dismay visible on that part of her face still visible, as she covered her mouth loosely with one hand, her wide eyes fixed on Robel, and she listened as he went on.
"She further informs us that she is abandoning the west and intends to go to face the Slane Theocracy on their own ground. As she puts it, Your Majesty... 'Our war is over, but hers has only begun."
He lowered the paper and only slowly raised his eyes to meet her gaze.
"Has the South responded?" Calca asked, blinking repeatedly as she tried to process what she'd just heard.
"This came in shortly after... I can only assume a message spell was used for the copyist, because it was literally hours difference only." Robel said as he reached into his satchel and took out another piece of paper.
"Their terms of independence are as follows, mining rights in the old Wenmark region will be doled out to guilds from our country and operated through guilds in theirs, essentially forming 'partnerships' they will supply us with unfinished goods in exchange for finished ones for twenty years, they will build no fortress or city where Yanana once stood, and Wenmark will not be rebuilt. They will limit themselves to defense forces only..." As he read through the list, Calca could only marvel.
'By the bones... those are dream terms, their independence is barely real at all.' She thought to herself until finally Robel got to the end.
"In exchange..." he said, and coughed into his hand several times.
"Yes? What do they want for this?" She asked, leaning forward intently.
"In exchange, they want an oath that no Pope or army of Black Justice will ever visit their lands again, as long as the family of the new King has one of its own on the throne." Robel's voice went quiet before he added his own thoughts with great confidence. "She really did a number on them, didn't she?"
"Yes. It would seem that she did." Calca replied numbly. She looked to a nearby servant, "Fetch me my seal, I will affix it immediately, the south is... 'free' insomuch as it can call itself that."
She sat there, pale and quiet on her throne, the rest of the court was as silent as she. Robel did not move from his position, it was so silent that they could hear the sound of the seal being affixed to the document from one end of the court to the other.
When the treaty was taken away, Robel spoke. "My Queen, may we speak privately?"
Calca inclined her head slightly and stood up. She walked as if in a trance to the door that led to her private workspace, and then sat down behind her desk. Robel closed the door behind them and put his hands behind his back in front of where she sat.
"How... how many of my people did the Black Paladin kill, do you think?" Calca asked him in a shaking, trembling voice.
"None, Your Majesty. They were no longer your people." He said calmly.
"Are you saying that as one of my nobles, or are you saying that because, like Gustav before you, your loyalty to your former commander is greater than your loyalty to who sits on the throne?" She asked in a bitter, angry voice, she lowered her head and put her hands to the side, her fingers running through her hair, she clenched it tight to the base, indifferent to the fact that it hurt.
Robel shook his head, "No, Your Majesty. I... I know what she did. But more importantly I know 'why' she did it."
The Queen just stared at him, so he continued. "So you wouldn't have to, so 'we' wouldn't have to. She told me something, back before we went our separate ways, may I tell it to you?"
Calca's eyes were a tremble, 'How much more must my people endure...' She wondered as her heart pounded in her breast. "Go on." She managed to get past her lips.
"She told me that when she was speaking with His Majesty, he was saying how he wanted this to be the last war these lands ever know, that he wanted to win it in such a way that it wouldn't happen again, the war to end all wars forever. To prevent the tragedies of First World. It took some time to understand what he was talking about, I didn't really see it myself until I began to see elves, humans, and demihumans have common cause in earnest. But she, sometimes she would look away, not really paying attention to us, and it was like she was seeing his vision. And I remember something else, she said 'everything has a price, and there are a lot of ways to pay it.' Do you understand?"
"Not at all." She said dryly.
"Her destruction of Yanana put terror into the south in such a way that their terms will keep them very weak, they may have their independence for now, but in twenty years? Thirty? Fifty? One Hundred? They can't last, they'll collapse from within, or they'll seek to reunify of their own volition. Yes, Neia will be hated in the Southern Holy Kingdom, maybe forever. But it is 'she', not the royal house in Hoburns, who will bear that hatred, meaning they can come home again one day, rejoin with us. And she bears all the blame."
Calca turned her thoughts back to the time she shared with Neia in Prart. "She's a human sacrifice. By the bones... I almost prefer she be a second Remedios..."
Robel gave a gentle nod of agreement. "The Theocracy propaganda about her worked well because she was far away, now that she'll be on their ground, it may well provoke many surrenders, she'll play the role they've given her, no matter what it costs."
"I hope there's something left of the girl I stood for, when everything is said and done, and that her wife keeps a close eye on her, because this is going to get much, much worse." Calca added prophetically.
"Agreed, if it pleases your majesty, I beg your permission to withdraw for the day, I wish to go get very, very drunk." Robel said as his shoulders slumped and his eyes turned down.
"Permission denied, you can do it here. In that, I will join you." The Queen replied, her hand shaking as she drew a bottle from a rack seated behind her.
...Elf Kingdom...
The Captain of the Black Scripture snatched the letter out of the hands of the second seat and read it. It was identical to his own, so it was with all of them. "What?" Zesshi asked as she planted the butt of her scythe on the ground and spun it impatiently, as she looked at her former colleagues, anger began to rise. 'You're my comrades! I helped 'train' most of you back when you were little better than fumbling toddlers! I was serving that country for generations before the night your mothers even decided they didn't want to swallow anything and you were conceived instead!' She thought to herself, her grip tightened on her scythe.
When the captain finally turned to her, he held his letter out and stepped back.
Zesshi took it, "Oh this is interesting." She said, a glow of warmth coming to her cheeks. "Raymond... Raymond thank you..." She said warmly. She tossed the letter aside and held her scythe in the combat position across her body.
"I'll tell you what that 'shit' is, Captain. It's exactly what it says, you either believe what we tell you and join me like he has, or you die where you stand." Her anger was starting to get the better of her, she'd never been angry enough to cry before, not really, but this was pushing her to her limits, and that alone shocked them to their cores.
The Zesshi they knew was unflappable, cold, indifferent. Her welling eyes and furious snarl with her lip curled up was almost a different person, they traded expressions and began to fan out around the trio.
"What are you supposed to tell us?" The Captain asked pragmatically.
"They tortured my family!" She exclaimed as she tightened her grip on her scythe enough that her knuckles turned white. They froze in mid step.
"That's why I'm here! That's why all this is happening! Don't you get it?! How could you all be here without questioning why I am?! I trained most of you, I was serving the Theocracy before most of your grandparents were learning to wipe their own asses!"
"I found my sister in Kami Miyako! I found out I had little brothers and little sisters out there! And the Theocracy was profiting off their abuse! What would they have done with me if I had not the power I did, or if my mother had rejected me?!" She growled angrily and began to pace back and forth in front of her former scripture.
"Don't you 'dare' to say I am a traitor to the Theocracy, when the Theocracy betrayed me first! Long before this war began, they first whispered lies into the ears I hated! They kept the truth from me for all my life, but I learned the facts for myself when I was guarding the boy they kidnapped. Still I might have forgiven it as ignorance leading to inaction, but when I confronted the cardinals, I sought to end what was happening, they voted me DOWN. They tore up the accords, called it trash, I was their trump card, and they said half of me was nothing but garbage."
She snarled at her former black scripture comrades. "Now they send you to kill me, so fine, you want it to end that way, you choose them over me, that is your decision to make, but before you strike, before you come to take my head and give it to Dominic... IF you can do it... you tell me in one word... who is the REAL traitor... them... or ME?"
They stood frozen, unable to move at the revelation.
"Is that... true?" The second seat asked in disbelief.
"Would I be here if it weren't?!" Zesshi said in a biting tone. "I joined the undead because he does what the Slane Theocracy only promised to do, I joined him because he gave my sister her freedom when all they'd have given her is... to someone else. I joined him because whatever he is, he's doing what needs to be done to end this nightmare. Our country has DAMNED itself, it has betrayed me, and if comradeship ever meant anything to you... then betraying me means they betrayed you as well. They tell us it is for the good of humanity... but since when is the good of humanity found in someone screaming for help in a brothel?! Or dying in a fire?! Or being thrown into mass graves?! Or being tortured?! Good of humanity, my half elven ass!"
"I don't 'want' to kill you, but if you take one step closer, this fight begins and it doesn't end until your heads are on the ground, or mine is." Zesshi said softly. "Let this be the last betrayal they ever get to hand to me. Make your choice, and make it quick, we've got a busy day ahead of us."