God Rising: The Cult of Ainz
Written by: AtheistBasementDragon
Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots
Chapter 162: Open Questions
AN: Well I assume the Neia of the Synod is probably making a lot more sense now. Sadly FFN isn't showing reviews at the moment, but I assume somebody will have something to say about that. Yeah, she's gotten dark, especially compared to Enri. Of course Enri's kindness has a drawback all its own, but that will become clear soon too. The confrontation between those two will challenge both person's assumptions and methods, and the price of victory will show that it must be paid by not just the dead, but by the living.
...Beyond Crossroads...
General Boabdill marched his men relentlessly, Vice Commander Heikeren moved up and down the line checking in with every commander of every battalion, ostensibly looking after their remaining forces but... the truth, General Boabdill thought, was to distract himself from the loss of Vice Commander Ira. He let out a sigh and didn't bother about it, if it helped, it helped, and he was working after all. He marched his army for three days and sent scouts out in all directions but the one he'd come from, finally finding one of the two Penitent forces.
The forced marches with only three to five hours sleep had been rough, all but impossible, but at long last, he found himself sitting in front of his opposite number. "I'm glad you could make it, we sure could have used you at Crossroads." Boabdill said unhappily as he took a sip from the cup of wine he was offered.
"Well, couldn't be helped, we've had troubles of our own, and at least this way you have some reinforcements now and we weren't lost when the city fell." The general said with a tone of mild rebuke.
General Boabdill bit his tongue to keep his temper back at the criticism of a general that was his junior in experience and in command, instead he kept his smile tight and his words clipped and professional. "True, but now that I have your army to combine with my own, we can do something we couldn't before."
"What's that?" He asked curiously, "How will you defend Kami Miyako?"
General Boabdill gave a hard eyed look at his opposite number, "I will do so by threatening the city of Carne itself. General Enri's husband lives there, her little sister and all her friends live there. We'll march well around her line and invade the Sorcerous Kingdom with a hundred thousand soldiers."
His opposite paled as if he'd seen a ghost, and a new respect came over his face, "You are not the commander of the north for your timidity, that is for sure."
"No, no I'm not." General Boabdill agreed, with a very strongly satisfied expression on his face, and his chin tilted slightly up with pride as he spoke.
"General, may I... suggest something else?" Vice Commander Heikeren said as he fell in behind General Boabdil.
"I'm listening." Boabdil said hesitantly as he gestured to a stump that was serving as a possible chair.
Heikeren sat, took a deep breath, and began. "I don't believe General Enri will respond the way you think she will. But even if she does, we don't want her to."
"Even with her friends and family threatened?" Boabdil asked doubtfully.
"Correct, because they are not threatened even if you had a hundred times the number you already have." Heikeren said hesitantly, he bit his lip and his eyes darted around anxiously, he felt the pressure of their judgement on him, but he pressed forward.
"That is land protected personally by Ainz Ooal Gown, the Sorcerer King, true, she might have the impulse, but she has nothing to fear, if you want to draw her away from Kami Miyako you need to keep her engaged, we can retreat east instead, as long as we keep raiding, we keep her from moving, and she 'has' to fight us. She has every advantage over us, except for one, that this is 'our' land and we know it better than she does. We can hit her, we can hurt her, she's taken hard losses even though she's won, but it's a terrible idea." Heikeren said as a shadow came over his face.
They saw the change in his demeanor, as if some black shadow was pressing down on the strong looking officer, the slumped and haggard look, he pressed still further on before they could ask what he meant.
"Whatever we can say about General Enri, she's not a monster, even if she sides with them, can we agree on that?" He asked hopefully, folding his hands together and resting his forearms on his knees.
"Yes... why?" Boabdil asked as an uncomfortable thought came over him.
"Because if we have to see our people fall into anyone's hands it has to be hers. She might not be a monster, but there are monsters coming. We got the messages about Leinas burning an entire batallion alive just because it was easy and they were dumb enough to make it possible. Zesshi hates our country with a fiery passion, Queen Draudillon is sacrificing her own to give herself the power to destroy walls. But worst of all, the war in the west is over, and you know who that means is coming. Tell me... the truth, while it is just the three of us. Are the stories about her true?" Heikeren asked, hoping against hope that they were not.
The two generals shared a look, and Boabdil spoke, "They're... mostly accurate, she's had barbaric executions, she's destroyed cities, and she hates us worse than any demon I've ever heard of."
"Then who do you want closing in on Kami Miyako?" Heikeren asked boldly. "Her? One of the others? Or General Enri? Because we've got nothing left. It's this army, and one other in the east made up of green soldiers that, frankly will definitely be recalled soon if Dominic is not off his nut. C'teon, Feron, the fortresses, they can't hold without reinforcements and we've got nothing left. Say we do defeat General Enri, against impossible odds, we kill her dragons, scatter her forces, and capture or kill her. Or even let's say we pull off a miracle and delay her for six months? All that means is that the rest of that coalition closes in on Kami Miyako and we're cut off in the field."
Heikeren clenched his fingers tight as if squashing something within his palm, it was an... illustrative point, and his superiors looked very grave, with lips parted slightly as they tried to imagine the scenario.
The silence was cold as the highest mountains, and the winds of those great frozen heights blew through all their hearts. "General Boabdil, it has been my honor and my privilege to fight for you, you've done better than any man in history ever could have, but it's time to face facts, even if we gathered all the soldiers left into one body under the aegis of the most powerful spells and items... our nation, quite simply... is finished. They outnumber us, they out power us, their armies swarm our lands, and if the message you got about Neia wasn't faked, then she's going to go straight for Dominic. Save what you can, do your job, do your duty, send a message to Kami Miyako, have your wife beg Dominic to sue for peace, if we fight just to buy time... maybe we can save something of our people!" Vice Commander Heikeren did next what none had ever seen him do since he took his oath as an officer before the gods.
Stood, kicked the loose stump out of the way, and went down to a knee and lowered his gaze to his general. "I have never been a man of abiding faith in the gods, I put my faith in the actions of men, please... please... if you invade the Sorcerous Kingdom, we'll all die, worse, we'll die for nothing and change nothing. If you must fight, then let us fend Enri off as we try to make our way South, we have to stop what's coming from there, or the stones of the streets of our capital will be stained red for ten thousand years."
There were long hard looks at Heikeren, who could not see them as he did not raise his gaze, and the whole lot of them were quiet for a long, long time.
...Fortress Alaf...
The morning brought nothing less than absolute happiness to the three armies, and it was quickly decided that the entire body of plundered alcohol and other stores of the Slane Theocracy and Elf King would be opened to the common soldiers, creating for an even larger celebration than had been anticipated. Bonfires made of the bodies of the Theocracy soldiers and of all the equipment that could not be easily transported, raged in a number of areas over the open ground, soldiers of the many races celebrated with dances and songs and trading beers and wine and stories. Friendships were forged in those hours, that would last a lifetime.
But none partied harder than the elves, urged on by their new Queen to "Be as happy today as you had been miserable in the previous centuries." It was a fine first order, and they did their best to carry it out. Zesshi however, had somewhere to be, and so while the other commanders drank among one another, she called for a Gate to take her some place she'd never really thought of herself as having before. To take her 'home'.
She stepped through the gate when it appeared, and there she was, again holding the head of her father and the scythe that had claimed his life. Thirg saw her first, and looked at her with real awe in his expression, she was not the tallest person he'd ever seen, but she bore herself straight and true, her piercing black and white eyes seemed to drink in everything, her hair danced like a dangling snake of black and white behind her, she bore herself like the royal she'd never thought herself to be, standing in front of the throne, it was obvious to him, if not to her, that she belonged exactly where she was.
She held the head of the hated monarch in front of her, a crowd of elven nobles who had lived for centuries whose only distinction as nobles was that they had the misfortune of being closer to the monster that used their women as playthings, stood looking in silent contemplation.
Zesshi repeated herself as she had before to others, "I am the daughter of the man whose head I hold, that made me a princess of the royal family, he was a monster who ruined all our lives, and I have killed him. I now claim the throne in his stead. The army south of Fortress Alaf has sworn its loyalty to me, and together with our allies of the Sorcerous Kingdom we have crushed the Theocracy. I give you freedom from terror, and a victory against our enemies, will you now give me your loyalty?" She asked, but it was a rhetorical question, in her mind there was no other possible outcome but acceptance.
Yet questions lingered, about the Gate she'd used, the battle she'd fought, and much more, all answers striking them mute as the dead when she explained the Sorcerer King's magic, and how he had overseen, with humans of her old unit, the rescue of the hostages. She told them of her intention to swear her fealty to him as Queen of the Elf Kingdom, and dared them to defy his divine power when he arrived among them.
...Kami Miyako...
"No... not her too." Dominic muttered as he read over the document provided by the Agante observer.
"It's so, my lord." The agent said in a deep, firm voice. "The lady Meidhall of the Black Scripture, otherwise known as Thousand Mile Astrologer, has been working with the resistance. The same is true of her mother. The anti-war faction that has been growing among the artisans has met at her own home, they are responsible for defacing your noble image and even for beating up some of your heralds in their homes at night. Just as you ordered, we asked her to report on a location we knew enemies to be, and she reported them absent, and we asked her to report on a position we knew enemies were not, and she reported that they were."
"Can you guess how long she might have been working against us?" Dominic asked as he flung himself back in his chair, letting his hands fall at his side, he clutched the document in one hand so tight it was as if he wanted to crush it, like doing so would crush the names it bore. His eyes looked utterly lost, betrayed, they glassed over with tears, and he looked up at the ceiling so as to keep his tears there, and not let them fall where another could see them.
"Months, weeks, it is difficult to say, I would suggest from her first failed vision. But it would be mere guesswork." The agent said tranquilly.
"Shall we bring the long knives?" He asked.
"No... Meidhall and her mother... they're different." Dominic said slowly as he gained control over his breathing, though his heart pounded in his chest as if to tear itself free.
"You wish them spared?" The agent asked with doubt in his voice.
Dominic shook his head, "No, arrest them, they will both be hanged. Publicly. For treason. Because of who they are and who they were, and let that be the fate of anyone you take from now on, bodies hanging high will make for the banner of the treasonous. When they've hanged, leave their bodies out to be picked at by the crows but... do this one thing, do not hang them on my usual travel route, I... don't want to see them myself."
"My lord, she is still a scripture..." He said cautiously.
"Bring a half a dozen of you, she's one of the black, but she's not the finest, she simply has some very unique skills, you can take her down if you catch her by surprise, or if you use her mother against her, I don't care how you do it... but nobody... nobody can be permitted to live after betraying me... betraying the gods." Dominic responded with a sudden iron in his voice and crunching the paper in his hand into a ball, he cast it contemptibly to one side where it bounced off the wall and rolled to his feet, stopping against his boot, he lifted his foot and stomped down upon it, as if to put the guilty pair under his heel where they belonged.
His lip curled in a furious snarl that overrode his grief and hurt at the betrayal of his former lover and his daughter. The Agante saluted promptly, "It will be done, my lord. Also, one more thing, what shall we do about those openly proposing we seek peace?"
"Make them disappear, hang the loudest publicly, but simply end the rest in the night." Dominic replied sharply.
"As you say, it will be, my lord." He replied, saluted, and departed.
Dominic ground his teeth and his eyes flashed with fury, his fists were tight enough that it turned his fingers white. "Damn them, damn them all, damn the traitors one and all..." He whispered to the empty office for hours, as tears of sadness and anger ran from his eyes as if to escape his wrath. He thrust his chair back and fell to his knees and raised his eyes up, folding his hands together, he prayed. 'Gods, long have I served you, long have I loved you, and you have given a nation into my hands that I might make its people strong. Yet now I am faced with a great trial, surrounded by my enemies within and without, the enemies include the members of my own family, and a great monster, a beast, has risen to threaten all your chosen ones. Please, grant me wisdom, grant me strength, that I might meet this challenge and see it through. And if you see fit to refuse me that, then come to us, come to us as you did in our darkest hour when we were on the brink of dying out. Come, save your children lest we lose everything...' He prayed desperately, urgently, but only silence answered him.
...E-Rantel...
All she could do was gawk like a damn fool peasant that had never seen anything bigger than a hut and a pig pen.
"I've heard of this kind of thing but... seeing it is another matter." Berenice said, flabbergasted at the dizzying variety of goods, many of which she could not identify at all.
"My master is truly supreme." Entoma said serenely as she walked next to Berenice. On either side were not just stalls, but large buildings with an array of signs and people hawking wares in a dozen different accents that spoke of the breadth of trade between the nations closest to the Sorcerer King.
"Is this what he meant?" Berenice asked in a voice full of wonder.
"What who meant?" Entoma asked as she strolled along with a tranquil expression on her face.
"Your... master. He said something to me about this when we spoke." She looked away as she tried to recall his exact words. "I... wish I could recall exactly, but it was... something about how places at international crossroads draw a wealth not only of goods, but of peoples and abilities."
"That sounds like him." Entoma said as she looked around more or less indifferent to the surroundings.
Berenice picked up a trinket from a stall, nothing more than a simple pendant, but it was skillfully and wonderfully made. "What do you have there?" Entoma asked.
Berenice held it out to her, it was a broken heart of gold with a tiny ruby set within as a drop of blood. "This is beautiful but... I don't understand, why would someone buy something that is inherently so... tragic? A whole one makes sense, but one broken and bleeding?"
Entoma took it in hand and looked at it, she then held it up, letting it dangle on the intricate golden chain to which it was attached. She flicked it lightly, causing it to wind and unwind rapidly between their faces. "I know what this is, it's got a meaning behind it, do you really want to know?" Entoma inquired.
Berenice had a momentary flash of instinct that told her to say no, that she didn't want to know, that there was no reason this one would ask her that question except if there was a reason she was better off not knowing, but in spite of herself, she nodded. "I would."
"As you like." Entoma said, and flicked the little broken heart again, "It was actually designed by the wife of the demon you're all so terrified of. She had it made in Nazarick, then brought the design here and gave it away when somebody liked it."
"Well... that's interesting, but..." Berenice looked at her as if to ask more, but Entoma shook her head.
"That isn't all, she had it made as a reminder." Entoma added.
"O-Of what?" Berenice asked, suddenly hesitant, she felt her heart skip a beat.
Entoma took the little pendant in hand and forced the golden shape to close, and then asked, "Tell me, what do you see?"
"The damage is still there. There's a jagged line, and the ruby is closer to the center, what of it?" Berenice probed further.
"Exactly, she made it to remind herself of what happened, of all the things the person she loved best in the world had endured, that would never go away, never heal without leaving scars, and that the blood that came from her wounded heart could never be unshed. Either the wound remains open forever, or it is closed, with great difficulty and great strength, but even if it is... well, you said it yourself, didn't you? The scars are still there, and the blood is still lost." Entoma replied, then removed and handed a coin to the merchant who stood patiently watching the exchange... even if he was a little fidgety at seeing his property 'damaged' by the maid.
Berenice held her palm out and Entoma let it drop, it fell into the center, and the chain with it, not making a sound. She didn't do anything with it, she just looked. They started walking again eventually, and the hand of the cardinal closed tightly around the little trinket.
"You say Skana designed it?" She asked as if to distract herself.
"I did." Entoma replied succinctly.
Berenice ran through the stories in her head, the many reports she read of everything that had gone on since long before the war began. "She actually loves that... demoness?"
Entoma nodded as they walked, Berenice tried to focus on the marketplace, but kept returning to the little trinket in her hand.
"Yes, but she's not a demoness to the elves. To them, she's a savior, one step removed from a god. To her followers, she's the herald of justice. To His Majesty, she's... something else, I heard he called her a daughter, but she's a lot of things to a lot of people. If she's a demoness to you... well, what did you do to her to make her one?" Entoma asked with an uncaring shrug.
That made Berenice go silent for awhile, "Can we... get a bite to eat, then... I think I'd like to go rest. This has been a lot to take in." The cardinal replied uncomfortably.
"As you like." Entoma said with another indifferent shrug. "The food is better in Nazarick but... well, this is your little visit." She pointed to a small cafe, and lead the cardinal over to an outdoor table.