God Rising: The Cult of Ainz
Written by: AtheistBasementDragon
Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots
Chapter 159: The Beginning of All Hope
...Elf Kingdom Palace...
"Get up! Get up you piece of shit!" Zesshi shouted to her father, he was of such a contrary nature that he actually hesitated to do so, as if to stay down on the floor simply to deny the wish of someone else. Zesshi did not hold back on her words, "You ruined my life! You ruined my mother's life! You ruined the lives of my brothers and sisters! Now it's time to ruin yours!" Her hate was as thick as a bog and as sharp as an obsidian edge. She was moving toward him step by step with deadly purpose. Her scythe rose and fell at the head, as if it were nodding in agreement with her every word.
As he stood up, he could only sneer at her. "You're welcome to try, bitch, but I put your mother on her back and got you out of it, wonder what I'll get out of you, and unlike the last time with that bitch, I won't leave anyone around to rescue you or steal away what belongs to me."
Zesshi looked him over, he'd been thrown through naked, and after he spoke, she knew exactly how to insult him best, "I'm not worried, if that's the best you've got there, I doubt I'd even notice. Such a tiny little 'sword'." She laughed at him and stroked her scythe's long handle lovingly.
"This is much... much better, so strong and firm, and with a marvelous head... but then, you'll find that out first hand... bitch." Zesshi's lips curled up in a sneer that mirrored his, her black and white eyes flashed with deadly intent. In his rage, the Elf King's killing intent poured out and swept over her.
She tossed her scythe up into the air and opened her arms as if to embrace his wrath, and unleashed her own, it blasted back at him with every ounce of the same raw bloodlust he was capable of, and more besides.
The scythe spun as it arched into the air and it came down to be caught in her other hand.
[Steel skin] [Painless] [Beast Rage] [Mountain Fist] [Phalanx] [Greater Strength] [Focus] [Greater Focus] [Speed of Arrow] [Body of Anvil] He rattled off the skills he knew with practiced ease, but his voice was not alone.
[Berserker Rage] [Dull Pain] [Greater Penetration] [Tireless Warrior] [Greater Agility Boost] [Ability Boost] [Greater Ability Boost] [Harden] [Greater Harden] Zesshi spouted off her martial arts just as fast, but as she did, she wondered at the strange and unfamiliar skills he used, and his evident lack of martial arts... but then they moved and she set that aside, his fist flashed forward and Zesshi took it in the chest, her scythe moving past her, she felt nothing and spun on her heel, as he continued forward, she pulled the scythe back, drawing the blade against his bare chest.
He stopped, for an instant, smiling, there wasn't any pain and it hadn't torn him in half, it occurred for him for a lightning instant to turn and laugh, only for something wholly unexpected to happen, she continued to turn and caught in the hold of the scythe head, she hefted him bodily and flung him across the room to blast straight through that wall and then through two consecutive rooms, bouncing and rolling along the ground until he finally stopped dead.
"Gah! Insolent whelp!" He shouted from where he landed, he punched the ground and charged again, roaring like a bull. Zesshi could feel her armor's power coursing through her body, everything it was telling her about the way he moved, like it was remembering every step and how he took it, she gave a berserker's shout and ran at him with her scythe up high.
He moved under it and expecting her to do the same thing again, he chose to grab her by the throat instead, he started to squeeze, and held her up. "You'll fall asleep in a few seconds, when you wake up, you'll wake up with another heir already taking hold within you." He looked at her with fury and wrath, expecting to see fear and panic, expecting her to flail and curse and spit.
He did not get what he expected, she dropped her scythe and grabbed his wrist with both hands, and squeezed. He didn't understand it at first, he felt the pressure, but 'painless' eliminated almost all sensation unless the limb itself was at risk. So when the pain hit, he realized the danger and let go. Zesshi did not, however, collapse and choke and cough, instead she landed in a crouch, and launched herself with her legs, her black and white hair flying behind her and hatred burning in her eyes, she now had him by the throat. But she did not speak, she did not taunt, nor did she hold him aloft and do nothing.
She brought him down, hard.
The floor cracked underneath the force, he grabbed her wrist and started to squeeze. She lifted his entire body with one hand again, and screamed her fury as she brought him down again. He kept squeezing, she used him like a hammer she was driving against a nail. Again, and again, and again, until she rose and spun backwards, flinging him across the room back towards his undeserved throne.
Thirg and Tefl watched with mute fascination as he hit the throne between them, bowled it over, and sailed down the passage like a tumbleweed in the wind. "Think that did it?" Thirg asked his sister.
"Nope, not a chance. Not if he's like she is." Tefl said and jabbed her thumb toward Zesshi.
She turned out to be correct, he came down the hall as fast as he could, a flash of naked flesh, a behemoth of muscle that made Thirg's enormous body look small and waifish by comparison.
But if muscle mattered to Zesshi, she gave no sign, she grabbed his wrist and pulled it out and punched hard right at the elbow, snapping at the joint where it was most vulnerable.
He whirled with a kick and caught her in the kidney, sending her flying into the wall through two more rooms as if to mock her previous feat. He stood smug and confident, until he heard her laughter.
When Zesshi sailed through the air at the kick, and saw that she was going to hit the wall, she protected her face and head with her arms, went through one great wooden barrier, through another empty room, hit that wall, then the next, and finally came to rest, but she did not land clumsily, she hit the ground and rolled smoothly to her feet to slap the wall with her back. It was far more graceful than what it sounded like when her bastard father had landed. She laughed and touched her duelist armor. It was such marvelous stuff, she dusted it off and let him hear her laugh, came at him again, laughing the whole time.
Her hair was lifted by the breeze, her movement made of the air, as if a cape, she came on and this time slid under a punch, went behind him, jumped onto his back, her arm went around his neck in a choke hold, and her teeth came down hard, biting him on the ear.
That had clearly hurt him, he flailed around to try to grab her, and paused to howl when she tore his ear halfway off. She spat it onto the ground where it slid along the floor. "You don't deserve to be an elf! I'm taking everything from you!" She shouted wildly as she moved her head to the other side, and tore that ear clean off at the halfway point as well. That half joined the first before he managed to grab her arm and pull her slowly away from her choke hold.
"Fucking bitch!" He shouted when he gulped in air and managed to fling her over his shoulder to roll over to the ground, she landed near her scythe and took it up.
The Elf King was approaching again, she took up her blade and wiped the blood from her lips. "You look like a slave, bitch." She sneered as she rose from the floor with her scythe in hand. "You're so weak, you're pathetic, you're nothing, all this time, you were this big bad monster, but all you really are is a needle dicked tyrant just a little more powerful than those around you."
That set him off, he rushed at her again, his remaining good arm and his kicks came hard and fast, Zesshi blocked some, but landed her own blows with much greater precision and his blows were only mildly painful.
Thirg and Tefl watched from where they stood, knowing full well that it was only their vampire senses that allowed them to keep up with the fight even as much as they were. The combatants were a blur, they hit so hard that the floor cracked under them and threatened to give way, the walls shook and the echo of their strikes sent noise out beyond the palace.
Finally Zesshi managed a blow with an open palm so hard that it sent him sailing through the outer wall of the palace in an arc over the city he ruled, he fell with a roar all the way down to the stone street, and he broke several stones into an outline of his body.
The population, seeing their invincible king, naked, bleeding, bruised, and missing his ears, were too frightened even to run away, they were frozen as he roared like a dragon, they followed his expression up to the hole in the palace where a single figure stood holding a scythe and cackling into the dark.
Zesshi didn't wait for him to come back, she jumped out of the hole in the wall and landed a few feet away from where he was starting to get to his feet. His heterochromatic eyes were filled with wrath, but he was hurting.
The half elf daughter of the king of sorrows moved slower, holding her scythe over her shoulder as she came close to him, she didn't tell him to get up this time, she kicked him full in the face, sending him back down onto his back, he snapped back, hard enough that a great boom echoed from where he lay, prone below her.
"Get up." She finally said, and he tried to rise, pushing himself off the ground, she kicked him in the face again. "I said, get up! By order of the Elf Queen, I said get up!"
That angered him, and he moved faster, but not fast enough, she kicked him in the side of his head, sending him rolling thirty feet down the street.
"What's the matter?! Aren't you strong?!" Zesshi mocked him, his body was covered with cuts and bruises, it was obvious that several ribs were snapped, the arm she broke now had a bone sticking clear out of the skin.
He tried to get up anyway, but she flashed close and stomped on his crotch, drawing a squeal of agony from him.
"You've been a 'very' bad little bitch. I'm afraid if you can't play nice with your toys, you're going to have them taken away from you." She stomped again, he squealed again to match, gawkers gathered in ever greater numbers as this impossible deliverance unfolded.
She brought her scythe up, and spun it over head so he could see it, finally it appeared in his eyes, the look she longed for. Fear. She was not the only one to see it, faces of shock and disbelief changed to exultant smiles.
"Stop her!" The Elf King shouted. Nobody moved. "Don't you get it you fools?! I have your families, stop her or they die like the worthless dogs they are!" He shouted the threat with a joyful expression on his face as he saw the agonized looks on their resigned faces, the way eyes glassed over as they were obliged to snuff out the glimmer of hope they just bore witness to.
Zesshi laughed down at him, "No, they won't! Even as we speak, my comrades, assisted by the most powerful monarch in the world, are setting everyone free! You have no leverage now, scum. I've taken everything from you, except for your favorite toys, and you're going to lose those in just a minute."
He looked around, and shouted the order again, refusing to believe what his daughter was telling him, still nobody moved, the glass eyed look of hopelessness however, was fading from the faces of the observers. They, quite clearly, believed, or at least desperately enough wanted to, that they ignored the order. Zesshi kicked him square in the balls, he grabbed the injured place and the scythe came down, taking off his right hand.
He flung his arm out, sending blood spatter out into the crowd, Zesshi's scythe went up above her again, and came down from the other direction, cutting the other hand off at the wrist.
Zesshi began to laugh as his arms flailed worthlessly. "Hold still, I want this to hurt." She said and brought her foot up, then spun so that she was in line with him, and brought her foot down hard just above his pelvic bone, the behemoth of an elf gasped out and lost all breath to even scream. Zesshi brought her scythe down between his legs. "This is for my mother, and the rest of us, bitch." She said cooly, and gelded him entirely, letting his favorite toys fall uselessly to the ground from between his legs.
The Elf King cried out then, in gasps choked off by agony and shock took over his body. Zesshi walked over his body like he was a carpet, until she stood with a foot over either side of his torso and put her scythe behind his neck. "You think this is the end for you?" She looked down into his accusing and hateful eyes, blood was choking off any words he might have uttered, "It isn't. This is just the beginning, for me, for all my people, and for you. But for your part, you have to die first." She said, and lifted her scythe, it separated the flesh of his neck and his vertebrae, and left him in two pieces.
Zesshi picked up the head by his golden hair and held it aloft. "The King is dead! Long live the Queen!" She shouted to a confused crowd that was rapidly spiralling toward overwhelming joy, they might have knelt to her then, but instead she went back into the palace that could now be called 'hers' and made her way back to the throne room with relative ease.
Thirg and Tefl had set the throne upright again. When she returned, they gestured to the seat from either side of it. "Your Majesty, please take a seat, we'll go tell everyone it is over, though..." cheers began to echo throughout the city as word began to spread from ear to ear, "they might find that out before we can tell them." Thirg said with a satisfied grin on his face.
Zesshi did as he suggested, and took a seat on her throne. "Tefl, go tell His Majesty that the Elf King has been beheaded, and when he's finished, I would be forever grateful if I could kneel before him as he sits in my father's throne and give my loyalty to him a second time. Thirg, it might not be necessary as I'm sure word will spread, but... go ahead and do as you suggest, go tell everyone that my father is dead at the hands of his daughter, and that they may come and give their loyalty as soon as they are ready, and see his head in my hands for themselves."
The pair moved from her side and stood in front of her, then bowed, and split up to carry out their respective tasks.
She all but collapsed in that moment, it all hit her, the head, silent, staring hatefully through empty eyes, the pain slammed home against her her like a ton of bricks, she coughed up blood into her hand and wiped it on the armrest of the throne, he really had hit hard. Her claim of his weakness had been more bluff to anger him than accurate description. Her entire body started to shake and tremble as it never had before. She touched her ribs, three were broken for sure, but pained or not, she didn't care, she had only one thought. 'He's dead, he's really dead, a lifetime ambition... and it is done... how... I can hardly believe it.' Her breathing came hard and fast in and out of her lungs, he'd been the strongest being she'd ever fought other than Mare himself, the object of hatred for an entire population, by himself he was an army, by himself he could command a nation's obedience, and now he was no more.
'But... now what?' She wondered as the stunning realization hit her, and she thought of the centuries of tomorrows yet to come.
...Elf Kingdom...The Dungeon...
Down below, Ainz, accompanied by Tuare, Yuri, and Pestonya, was glad of his faceless nature. 'Nobody in this world built this place.' He thought as he touched the walls, they looked all too familiar.
He moved silently through familiar halls as if his feet knew where to go without ever being directed by his mind, but he was yanked out of that reverie when he heard voices from nearby rooms with very familiar doors. A good looking young man of dark hair and moderate build, who carried a long spear that, at Ainz's estimation, was definitely of Yggdrasil and was used by players around level fifty to sixty-five, approached and knelt. The weapon, as promised, was carried on his back so as to not appear threatening.
"You are without question, the Sorcerer King." He said formally, he did not bow his head, and Yuri looked far less than pleased at that, biting her lip to keep back the urge to rebuke him for his impudence. Her fury spat out in an instant, "Lower your head, you insolent human!" She snapped out.
Ainz raised a hand up to stop her, but did not look behind him as he spoke."It's alright, Yuri, he's not one of my subjects... I can forgive a measure of rudeness this once, as he's aided me, however remotely, in keeping a promise to a servant."
The Black Scripture member kept quiet at the exchange, but he did not obey Yuri either. "Sorcerer King, I pray you take no offense, for... the moment, I am still of the Slane Theocracy, it would be unseemly of me to lower my head as long as that condition persists."
Ainz cocked his head, "Did you not betray them for the sake of your comrade, and carry out this task for her?"
"I did, mighty King, but I have yet to tender a formal resignation, and renounce them as my comrade did." He replied calmly, "I know little of you beyond rumors and reports, but if Zesshi trusts you, then I am compelled to do the same, but... what use would you have for me anyway?" His voice became curious at the end, and Ainz thought it over.
"Stay with your comrade, I think. You crossed battle lines for her, why not stay with her? Having a few humans loyal to her to help rebuild the shattered elven nation after the war might help ease some prejudices that might come up in the future otherwise." Ainz replied in a lordly voice. "But there are more than just you, are there not? Where are the rest?" He asked as he looked around, in the distance he could hear faint cries and shattering metal.
"Time Turbulence and Divine Chant are cutting the chains that bind the captives, I was going to do the same, but... I thought it best to greet you personally as Captain of the Black." He answered cooly. "May I ask, what you will do with Zesshi after she has accomplished her goal?"
Far up above, the sound of thundering blows and the feel of shaking began in earnest. "I believe she's busy doing that right now, unless I miss my guess." The Captain said, craning his neck upward as if he expected to see the fight.
"Agreed," Ainz replied matter of factly. "And after she wins, well, she is a princess of this kingdom by birth, they will need a new ruler, it would be simplest to accept her as the ruler here and let her take a vassalage oath to me."
"Astute." The captain said succinctly. "If she becomes the Queen, I can speak for my surviving companions and myself that we will serve loyally."
"You are not troubled by my being undead?" Ainz asked with surprise. "That seems to be a persistent sticking point among the Slane Theocracy command structure."
The Captain sighed, "I won't tell you it doesn't bother me 'at all' because it does, but Zesshi does not trust 'anyone' lightly, and she's sworn fealty to you completely, and you've kept your promise to her, a promise our cardinals never kept, and Raymond trusts you, that much was clear in the letter, and Raymond is in his own way, even less trusting than Zesshi. Also... we have access to every piece of information there is on surrounding nations and targets. I know as much as it is possible for anyone in my country to know of you."
"And what is your judgement?" Ainz asked with genuine curiosity.
"Whatever you are or appear to be, you are not a normal undead, we don't recognize your... species, but if you're playing some game on us, I don't see it. Best I can tell, you just want to be a good king. You might be evil, but I've never met a good king that wasn't. Good people, make for shit kings and queens. So... what else can I do? If Raymond and Zesshi are telling the truth, and neither has ever lied to me, my country is done, and I'm not throwing what's left away for nothing." He explained practically.
Ainz thought that answer over, it was a treasonous answer similar to Fluder's, but for far more noble reasoning, leaving the Sorcerer King unsure as to how to mark him down in his heart's ledger.
"And what of your gods?" Ainz asked.
"We're the descendants of our gods, obedience to the past is just peer pressure from the dead, and we of the Black forge our own destiny with our own strength, we serve the nation because we believe in it, but if my ancestors don't like what decisions I've made, let them come and tell me themselves." He said with a noble bearing and confidence that Ainz could not help but admire.
Then he let loose a laugh, "Peer pressure from the dead, I will remember that one."
"Very well, go, help your comrades, my own will follow you, I want to look around here for a bit, after they've been healed, those who require it, they can be released." Ainz said and waved his hand ahead of him to the shadowed corridors beyond where cries of joy and relief and the clang of metal continued to echo.
"As you wish, Sorcerer King." The captain said, then stood, bowed, and retreated.
"Tuare, come with me. Yuri and Pestonya, go and assist the Captain and his other teammates with the freed captives. And be nice, remember that they are not yet my subjects, so overlook any breach of manners for now." Ainz said to the pair at his back, and began to take long purposeful steps that Tuare had to jog to keep up with.
"As you say, Your Majesty -woof." Pestonya replied, and carried herself with grace and poise into the nearest room, drawing momentary cries of alarm before her careful attempts at help calmed the captives down.
AN: Yes, the contrast between Zesshi and Neia is deliberate. Hope you found the fight satisfying.