[Chapter 4: Despair]
(AN from Edgy: Due to popular demand, the last part of this chapter was rewritten.)
The hooded figures moved silently through the forest. No moonlight managed to illuminate their way, being stopped by the thick canopy of trees. However, their path did not seem to be impeded, and they swiftly made their way through the area.
It was almost a miracle that no root caused them to trip, or that they managed to have any sense of direction, but such mysteries were the norm with this group.
Still, to find them on the grounds of the lands of Margrave Roswaal L. Mathers? That was simply unheard of. The Witch Cult, as much of an enigma as they were, had not appeared on this soil prior. Of course, even if they would have done so before, chances are that the general public would have learned of them due to a massacre.
These people, loathed by the world, appeared and disappeared, leaving only despair in their wake. What could such despicable creatures want? That is what Roswaal asked himself, gazing at the mirror that displayed the cultists.
Thankfully, the magical object had a handy, so-called night vision function, which let him see the displayed area as if it was midday. He sipped some of the wine he held in his hand, observing curiously as the insects invaded his domain.
Of course, he would report this to Lord Ainz once he had any concrete information, and so would the death assassins stalking them, but they knew that right now Ainz was probably engaged in vital negotiations.
The death assassins jumped from branch to branch, silent as can be. Due to them being undead, they had perfect vision in the dark. While the death assassins did have an inferior stealth stat than the wraiths that Ainz still had prowling the forests, it still was sufficient for the mission at hand.
One crucial factor separated the two undead. Both types of undead could massacre every single cultist in the forest, but the wraiths lacked the autonomy the death assassins offered. Roswaal himself certainly saw the utility of both creatures, one ethereal and one deadly, though he didn't want to question Ainz, who certainly knew better which undead to use.
The cultists abruptly stopped and so did the undead following them. Their little group of ten, previously led by one figure with slightly more red embroidering, now kneeled.
"Hmm? Whaaat is this?" Roswaal asked himself, staring intensely at the mirror. To his knowledge of the Witch Cult, which while not all that impressive when it came to the grand whole was still among the best in the court, told him that there were only a few figures that demanded loyalty in their disjointed organisation.
Out of the woods and into the clearing they had stopped at, came a man with a sickly complexion. His medium-length green hair matched parts of his cloak, which was still similar in design to that of the average cultist.
His eyes blazed with madness and were wide open, staring at the group in front of him. Roswaal looked intently at the figure, "An archbishooop? I wonder what siiin he represents."
To have the elusive figure of an archbishop in his own domain! He didn't know whether to be offended by their presence, or whether to be glad that Ainz's goal of hunting them down for reputation would be made so much simpler!
The man he saw in the mirror appeared to mumble something as he took out a book, most likely a filthy and defective copy of Roswaal's own book. He grimaced as he was reminded of the existence of the cheap knock-offs of his teacher's masterpieces.
As the archbishop's eyes blazed through the pages, he kept glancing at the group in front of him. More and more came out of the woods, eventually adding up to 90, each with their own representative at the head.
The archbishop looked at the empty spot in the circle that was made around him, where no group stood. Out of nowhere, the man's body began to contort as he seemed to writhe in pain. His nails dug into his face and he clawed at his skin.
He then began to bite all but one of his fingers, his followers taking off their hoods and following his example. The site, while unique, told Roswaal nothing, and so he sent a [Message] to one of the death assassins observing the odd spectacle.
{Caaan you decipher any useful information from theeem? Or is it just the raviiing of the maaad?} he asked over the connection.
{The one in the middle calls himself Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti. He keeps mentioning sin, sloth, and love. The rest is the petty ranting of a living fool about one of his fingers being missing. Shall I mention Lord Ainz about this?} came the low, gravelly voice from the otherside.
{I will do thaaat in the morning, when he is nooot busy. Let us keep observiiing for now. They may still be usefuuul. Make sure to track theeem.} Roswaal answered, still amazed at the necromantic prowess of Ainz. Creating fully sentient undead like this was simply unheard of.
{Understood.} answered the death assassin, cutting off the connection immediately after.
"Sooo it is sloooth that has come to visiiit. But… How doeees he direct the White Whaaale? Wouldn't an archbishooop of gluttony do thaaat?" Roswaal asked himself, recalling what Echidna had once told him of the Witch of Gluttony.
A single archbishop was normally already a sign of disaster, with the chance of more appearing being plenty of reason to call upon the Royal Knights and perhaps even Reinhard, but to Roswaal this was an opportunity.
The sooner Ainz would hunt them down, the sooner Emilia would get the throne and his agreement with Ainz be fulfilled. Only once that happens would he be able to see his mentor once more. Maybe he could even hunt him down…
Roswaal drank all the wine remaining in his glass at once to suppress the bitter memory of his failure. But, with Ainz on his side, maybe victory would this time be his? And a long time had passed since that day, centuries in fact.
He had grown, matured, mastered magic and earned his keep within this world. Maybe now there was a chance. Besides, if he had before planned to kill the Divine Dragon, why would his old nemesis be any different?
However, despite his information network spanning entire kingdoms, he still had not caught even a hint of the location of his enemy. Would even his newfound master's magic not be enough?
He grabbed the bottle of wine that sat on the table next to him and gulped down a mouthful to quell the thoughts once more. His everything really came from that day. His manner of dress, speech… Ah, what a sorrowful tale his life was, and he was still unable to avenge himself.
But, with archbishops of sin appearing in the open once more, who's to say that a Warlock won't either?
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Emilia followed the servant in front of her through the corridors of the mansion. The interior felt… off. Unlike in the living room of the mansion, there simply was barely anything here. The corridors were too long and too simple. There were no winding staircases, no busts of ancestors of the owner of the mansion.
It felt barren, even when compared to Roswaal's mansion. Perhaps it was just the obnoxiously bright white colour scheme that caused such a feeling, but she couldn't exactly get rid of it. Something gnawed at the back of her mind, telling her that things were wrong.
But she chalked it up to stress and being tired. The Royal Selection combined with the training were a combination that drained her of her energy. As determined to succeed as she was, even she eventually got tired.
The servant stopped in front of a silver door, and pointed at it. "Here is your room, my lady. Have a pleasant rest." the young man said, walking away soon after. Something about them felt odd, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it.
She entered the room and found it to be about as bare bones as one would expect. There was a bed, a closet, a nightstand, and little else. Given that everything was still either light purple, silver, or white, she began to miss the ebony constructs Ainz would conjure up. They were certainly easier on the eyes.
Still, she had a long routine she still had to perform, courtesy of her pact with Puck, who was by now already asleep. First she had to do some light exercise, and then she would commune with some spirits.
And this time the spirits would bring whispers of calamity…
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Ainz could almost feel the history seep out of the walls of Crusch's mansion. Every wall was decorated with engravings, paintings, weapons, armour; each corridor told a thousand stories. It was almost nostalgic, akin to how each area in Nazarick had its own history.
Certainly, this place lacked the demonic golems and mighty arms of his previous home, but it was still quite charming. He would've preferred less greens and more dark purple, although the interior was still quite nice.
He gazed idly from portrait to portrait, each ancestor of Crusch's possessing remarkably similar hair and eyes to the current Duchess. 'A spitting image of her.' Ainz thought to himself, glancing at a portrait of one of her ancestors.
In addition to pride in her lineage, whoever designed this place had a fascination with lions. Wherever he looked, he always found the house's emblem, or some other form of a lion. He had heard of the lion kings from Crusch's speech, but their times seemed to be long gone.
Ainz still didn't know where the 'lion' part came from, since he hadn't heard of them being in this world, but maybe that was just due to how little he had travelled so far. Or maybe the calamity of the Witch made them go extinct, maybe even the demon beasts were responsible for it.
No matter. The Overlord instead focused on the woman who wanted to succeed the royalty of old. Her idea of abandoning the covenant with the dragon still made no sense to him, but he could respect her strong will. The whole bit about Lugnica exporting its arms manufacturing also made sense.
Alas, he wasn't here to judge her policies. First came business, and he had just the trump card to play. After all, the seemingly endless pit of his inventory had just what he needed.
He followed Wilhelm, with Rem trailing behind the two, and they eventually reached a balcony overlooking the courtyard. Crusch sat there dressed in her typical, military uniform.
Only a cup of tea and a candle were on the table, the rest of the area being illuminated by the stars that now dominated the clear sky. If not for the serious and intimidating air around her, she would have been quite alluring, but her presence only made Ainz tense up.
She was an adversary that one couldn't approach so easily, and a twinge of anxiety, similar to the one that so often haunted his previous life, still lingered in his soul. But he steeled his resolve and stepped forward.
He sat opposite of her and, given that he was the guest, began, "Lady Karsten, it's a pleasure to finally get down to business." he said, while the maid and the butler took their places behind their lieges.
"On that we can agree, Sir Gown. But how about we drop the titles? They only get in the way of business." answered Crusch, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair, the arm rests of which were made in the shape of lion heads.
'Wow, she really does like lions. I guess since it's her family's symbol, she gets to put it everywhere as well.' Ainz thought to himself, though he could hardly judge her, since his guild's emblem also dominated anything he created via magic.
Ainz nodded, "I admire your pragmatism, Crusch. Few would propose such a thing, and even fewer would be willing to deal with me of all people."
The duchess scoffed, "Those people are shortsighted fools. If a deal can benefit us both, then I see no reason to not at the very least hear you out."
Crimson flames met amber eyes as the two stared at each other for a brief moment. Silence reigned over the area, broken up only by the chirping of crickets and the occasional hoot from an owl.
Yet neither candidate yielded. The fires of ambition in Crusch's eyes seemed to be a match even for the Overlord's crimson infernos. Silent pressure built up between the two, until Crusch broke the silence.
"Please, tell me what you bring to the table." she said, her gaze still unflinching. Her willpower was great, and yet gazing into the hollow sockets of the Overlord was still unnerving.
'So he's forcing me to start? I guess he's showing who's in charge…' she thought to herself, analysing the undead mage's cunning strategy. If his battle acumen was as great as his social one, then she could only weep for the people that would try to face him.
'I seemed to have zoned out.' Ainz thought to himself, quickly correcting his behaviour and adopting a pose that he thought reflected the regal air he wanted to project.
"I bring to you two things, and one of them includes you, Sir Wilhelm." Ainz said, glancing at the aged butler, "What I offer you is simple: a chance at revenge against the White Whale."
It was as if lightning had struck the Sword Demon, and he remained paralyzed, giving Ainz a chance to elaborate. "You both know I am capable of killing it. While Emilia and I will take the main part of the glory, it is still a great opportunity to get ahead of your other competitors, is it not?"
Wilhelm tried to remain stoic, but Crusch felt the anger radiate off of him. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, having to choose to settle for second place, or lose the loyalty of one of her most valuable allies.
But there was still a chance to salvage this situation, "And how will you find the Whale? Despite its size, the beast comes and goes with no real rhyme or reason." Perhaps this was just a very elaborate bluff…
Yet Ainz was evidently prepared for such a counter, waving her faux concern away, "The petty tricks the whale may attempt will not hide it from my sight. In fact, I already know where it is heading."
Crusch raised an eyebrow at his statement, "Do you have proof of that? Nobody has been able to manage such a feat before, at least to my knowledge. Your magic is extraordinary but so is that beast."
The undead mage nodded, "Naturally, but if you do not wish to join my hunt, then you have no need for that information."
'So even if I did want to kill it first, I wouldn't be able to find it. Why did I even try to goad him into making such an amatuer mistake?' Crusch asked herself, the small hope that Ainz may slip up now firmly crushed.
"Interesting. But what else do you offer? An opportunity to rid the world of one of the Great Demon Beasts is certainly enticing, but I will gain just as much as I lose in the battle with it."
Ainz chuckled, "Although I assure you that I will make sure the losses of your troops are minimal if you decide to bring any, I also understand your concern. But I'm sure I have something that will change your mind."
His hand disappeared into a pitch black hole in reality, returning with a golden blade in his skeletal hand. It almost seemed out of place in his hand, as if the very sun had been turned into a blade.
Its edges appeared to be sharp beyond human understanding, and the golden metal glistened in the candlelight. Naturally, the relic class sword was not actually made of gold since that was too soft; rather, it was made of a mid-tier ore called lirite.
Yet the beautiful blade wasn't what drew Crusch's eyes, which were instead focused on the guard. It was in the shape of a majestic, golden lion, not too dissimilar in design from her own crest. The blade came from the depths of its maw, as if it was an extension of the lion's might.
The grip of the blade was bound in an amber-coloured cloth, while the pommel had a tuft of golden fur hanging off of it. Ainz put it on the table as Crusch's jaw fell open, "During my many adventures, I had the pleasure to encounter many swordsmen." he began, idly playing with the fur.
"One of them called himself Henry the Lion. He ruled over a vast territory in the world of man. Unfortunately for him, one of my dear friends decided that his time had come to an end. But, given your crest, I believe this blade may be an appropriate gift." he said, sliding it pommel first towards Crusch.
The sword, while decent and probably legendary by this world's standards, was not even close to harming Ainz. It also didn't have vast magical power, or cover itself in fire, or truly do anything flashy. It was a weapon of a warrior, a warrior whose strength it would enhance.
But, judging by the way Crusch handled it, almost with reverence, just its appearance was a bargaining chip that dominated the table. Her hand drifted towards the grip. "May I?" she asked, to which Ainz nodded.
She grabbed and lifted it with frightening ease, the enchantment on the blade making it much lighter. After standing up and making some distance between herself and the table, she swung the blade several times.
Her movements were fluid, with the claymore transitioning from one swing to another with little to no delay. The prowess of the duchess was something to behold, but Ainz focused more on the smile that blossomed on her face.
So far, all was going well…
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The door to Emilia's room opened and a hooded figure tried to enter. Their robe was jet black, almost absorbing the light from the corridor behind them. Their attire had only a few red embroideries, and a necklace of two crossed swords hung from their neck. On its triangular hood was a red emblem akin to an eye.
After taking one step into the room, the figure collapsed. Blood stained the floor as the head was cleanly separated from the neck, rolling across the room.
Emilia dashed out of the room, katana in hand. To be ambushed by the Witch Cult here of all places! Her blade was a blur as she cut down the two other figures that stood outside of her room. They lunged at her with daggers, but her legendary weapon easily dismembered them.
Despite the mystery of the witch cult, these members didn't seem to be anything more than grunts. She looked around as the bodies hit the floor, trying to not get ambushed. However, the white corridors of the mansion seemed so disorientating now.
Theoretically, all she had to do was to walk in a straight line in order to get out of there… Then she remembered, she could just teleport away! Or message Ainz! It was such a simple solution!
She raised her hand and prepared to activate the ring imbued with [Teleportation], but a searing pain quickly overwhelmed her senses. A creak echoed out from behind her, and she felt metal cut through her own flesh in her left hand.
Landing in front of her, as if appearing from thin air, the cultist brandished his gilded dagger that was now stained with her blood. She cried out as the pain of her ringed fingers being sliced off reached her brain.
She sent a jab towards the cultist, who launched himself at her the moment he regained his balance, the katana burying itself in his throat. Another body joined its accursed brethren on the floor, blood pooling beneath it.
Her own blood joined the mix due to the injury on her left hand. She put her blade to the wound and cried out as it froze over, the stinging pain quickly being replaced by an overwhelming numbness. With her bleeding now stopped, she could focus once more on the situation at hand.
The fingers on her left hand that she had lost were the ones on which she wore her poison resistance and [Teleportation] rings. Thankfully, she still had her [Message] and cryomancy enhancing rings.
She looked from one side of the long corridor to the other. 'I need to get those rings back.' she thought to herself, remembering how Ainz specifically told her to not let them fall into enemy hands.
"Where did he come from?" she asked herself, walking up to the corpse and forcing it aside with her leg. She crouched, reaching for the rings that were previously hidden beneath it, only to jump back instantly.
A dagger flew through the air, leaving a shallow slash across her exposed shoulder. "Can't I catch my breath?!" she yelled, pointing her sword at the approaching cultist. They really lived up to their reputation of appearing out of nowhere…
"El Huma!" she called out, icicles appearing around her and flying at the cultist. As agile as they appeared to be, there was little room in the straight corridor to dodge, and so the spell skewered them. The body fell backwards with a thud, and Emilia scanned her surroundings once more.
"This'd be so much easier if Puck was here." she mumbled, looking around. Sadly, the Great Spirit was bound by a pact, and it was far past 5PM, and 9AM was still a ways away.
Yet, as she sought the power of the ring once more, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. A part of the wall down the corridor appeared to… open? Almost as if it was a door. Out of it poured out several more cultists, each launching their daggers towards the half-elf.
"Huma!" The shield appeared around her, stopping the daggers dead in their tracks. As they approached, the silent assailants took out more daggers from within their robes. They didn't speak, simply trying to attack her.
She took a defensive stance she had been taught by Wilhelm, and parried the opening strike from the cultist that reached her first, following up with a slash that nearly bisected them. Unlike a normal blade, her own had no trouble with slicing through people as if they were mere cloth. Still, her grip was weakened due to her left hand missing two fingers.
The next two attacked simultaneously, each slicing from a different direction. Emilia blocked one with her katana and ducked beneath the other one, getting away with only a shallow slash across her cheek.
After missing his strike, the cultist attempted to attack once more, but no such occasion would arise. "El Huma!" Emilia called out once more, icicles surrounding the cultist and piercing his body soon after.
The cultist who had his blade blocked pulled his dagger back, losing it along with his hand as Emilia stood up and slashed at him. She used her momentum from her strike to launch a slash at the man, causing his intestines to be exposed to the world and fall on the floor with his body.
She turned to the last cultist, who seemed almost hesitant to attack her after that display, and sent one last icicle at him. The spear of ice hit its mark and a shower of gore stained the once pristine corridor.
As Emilia leaned on her blade and tried to stabilise her breathing, the sound of someone clapping their hands echoed throughout the corridor. She looked up, seeing another opening in the wall appear, and Niklas exit.
"Your skill with the blade is as beautiful as your form, Satella." he said, walking towards her. On his hip was the blade of the Royal Knights, but his uniform was dyed black and red in a mockery of the typical one.
"What? You're one of them as well?" Emilia asked, lifting her blade once more. While waiting for the knight's response, she lifted her hand to her temple the way Ainz always did, but was forced to dodge as her adversary rushed at her. His speed was worthy of a Royal Knight, giving her no chance to call for help.
He scoffed as the two locked blades, "Obviously! Who else would follow someone with my Mistress' form? And besides, once I defile you, I'm sure she will reward me." Lust swirled in his eyes as he tried to overpower her.
But the girl was a quick study, and used one of Wilhelm's own tricks, kicking him in the knee. Despite the force of the kick, the man only slightly staggered, letting her get a fraction of the distance she normally would get.
"Oh, and do not try to use that metia. I don't know what it can do, but I won't let you use it anyway. Although I am quite sad that my subordinates bastardised your delicate hand. I'd kill them myself if I could. To deny me such a pleasure and draw your blood before I could…" he lamented, slashing at the girl.
His technique was swift and deadly, and she could only barely defend against it. Compared to what Wilhelm was capable of, this was nothing, and yet it was still more than what Emilia could comfortably handle. Niklas, even though he was scum, was still a Royal Knight.
"And do you like the design of my mansion? I had the corridors specifically made for ambushes once those dogs at the castle found out about me." said Niklas, monologuing further, "But I suppose I should be thankful that I don't have to deal with those fools."
His strikes were relentless and forced Emilia back each time. If she were able to use her magic, the tides of the battle may have turned and favoured her, but she was given no such opportunity.
"Once you break and my mistress takes over your blessed body then… Oh I cannot wait for my reward. Though the reward of getting to toy with you is already plenty…" Niklas said, licking his lips as his blade tore through Emilia's dress.
"Shut up!" she shouted, managing to successfully parry one strike and slice the man's chest. Blood began to pour out of the wound, but it was still far too shallow to be decisive.
"Feisty, aren't we? It seems that my mistress knows what I like, to send a vessel like yourself to me." he taunted, redoubling his ferocity. The clock was ticking, and he knew it; each strike that was caught by Emilia's blade caused a dent in his own weapon, and the question wasn't if his sword would break, but rather when.
Blood stained her clothes, which were swiftly turning into ribbons, as she desperately tried to repel the knight's attacks. The martial tradition of his house could be felt in each strike he unleashed, and he was not too inferior to the one known as the bowel hunter in his abilities.
In each subsequent set of attacks, more and more strikes got past her guard. At first it was only a shallow cut on her arm, then it was another, until those injuries began to mount. She felt her movements become sluggish and her breath ragged.
The grip of her blade became slippery with blood, and her once pristine dress was dyed crimson with both her own and her opponents blood. But in contrast to her own wounds, Niklas' were artificial ones, leaving his movements as swift as his first strike.
Her vision became blurred and only instinct guided her in repelling the cultist's strikes. "Getting tired, are we?" asked Niklas, hitting Emilia in the stomach and sending her flying back, "Frankly, I expected more of the vessel my mistress chose. Come on, get up! Show me what Satella's flesh is capable of!"
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Crusch sat back down at the table, putting on a serious expression once more. She put the blade in front of her, still holding onto the grip, and said, "All right, I'm in. Where will the battle take place and what will your forces look like?"
"I'm glad you accepted my offer, and as for your questions… Aside from myself, Emilia, and possibly Rem, I do not plan on bringing anyone else. I trust you do not see those as insufficient?" asked Ainz, "Oh, and you can keep the blade. I'm sure it will come in handy during our fight."
Like a child that finally got their favourite toy, Crusch grabbed the weapon off the table and instead put it next to her own seat. "After what you've shown us, I'm sure that you prove sufficient. But that brings me to the question, why do this? Why share the glory?"
Ainz chuckled, his deep voice filling the balcony and spilling over to the courtyard, "Isn't it quite simple? You must have already figured it out." answered the Overlord, hoping that the same trick Roswaal always fell for would work with another noble.
"I think I may have, but please illuminate me." said Crusch, stealing glances at the golden blade next to her. 'Just what kind of king wielded a blade like that?' she asked herself, focusing on the weapon rather than on the negotiation.
'I know she likes lions, but I didn't know it'd distract her so much. If I knew that then I would have opened up with the blade!' Ainz yelled inside his own mind.
"You are someone I assume I can get along with. As I've said before, letting us both get ahead and putting the troublesome candidates like Anastasia and Priscilla behind is quite simple and beneficial, is it not?" Ainz said, only barely suppressing the shiver at the mention of the second candidate.
'I wouldn't be surprised if she just randomly appeared now…' Ainz thought to himself, quickly glancing at the courtyard to make sure his idle prediction didn't come true.
'And I'm sure indebting Wilhelm to yourself is not a bad deal either… Whatever, I already agreed anyway.' Crusch thought to herself.
"I see. In that case, I'll bring Wilhelm and Felix along with me. Anything more than that will be overkill. But you still didn't tell me where the battle will take place. The battlefield is just as important as the enemy." said Crusch.
"On that we agree. Unless the whale randomly changes direction, it will end up at the Tree of the Sage, or whatever it is called, in a few days. It is a flat and empty field, aside from the tree, so we won't cause any collateral damage."
Crusch raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, "And are you planning on causing collateral damage? That tree that you so easily dismiss is quite the marvel, you know?"
"If I may answer with a question of my own, what do you think will happen when that whale falls to the ground?" asked Ainz, his crimson flames blazing just a bit brighter.
"Point taken." Crusch simply said, "Then is it safe to assume that you have a way to ground it? As confident as I am in my abilities, fighting it while it is in the air would be problematic."
"Naturally. Such spells are child's play, and no amount of vitality will save that beast. And, if I may ask, will Felix not have a problem cooperating alongside me? I cannot promise I won't summon more undead, and an outburst of his could be quite detrimental during combat." asked Ainz, recalling the expression of the knight when he first revealed his skeletal visage.
Crusch's face remained neutral but Ainz could decipher worry in her eyes. She sat silent for a second before saying, "He should be fine, though I cannot promise he will interact much with you. But he is still the best healer in the country, and so his presence will be invaluable at the battle. Unless you have a way to heal?"
Ainz shook his head, "Aside from potions and similar items, I can only heal undead such as myself. I hope we do not sustain any damage that warrants healing though."
"You put an awful lot of confidence in us, though you've never seen us fight." questioned Crusch, 'Or is it because he knows he can end it before anything happens? At least I know it isn't overconfidence or bravado.'
"I've heard stories of the renowned Sword Devil, and I'm sure you didn't become the head of your house for no reason. If the worst comes to pass, there are trump cards I can put into play." answered the Overlord.
'But resurrecting someone would bring an awful lot of attention to me. Then again, can't I then spin it into some divine right story? Actually, I've no clue how I'd explain that.' Ainz thought to himself, eventually settling on simply hoping that the reputation of his newfound allies was in fact warranted.
"So you've still got more in store? What can we expect then? Getting caught in the crossfire is not something I am interested in." said Crusch.
"Stay far away from the whale until it is on the ground. After that you can feel free to act on your own. I will warn you if I plan on using something particularly destructive. Do you have any other questions?"
"Transportation. If what you said is true, then we would have to head out in the morning, and even then we would most likely miss the whale. If its final destination is a city, it could be disastrous."
"Come now, do you really think such a thing would go over my head?" asked Ainz, once more thanking his lucky stars for the fact that his skull betrayed no emotions, "I will simply teleport us. I've already scouted out the area, so that will not be a problem."
"Teleportation magic? I thought that was mostly a myth… It's said some members of the Witch Cult can use it. You wouldn't happen to know anything about them, would you?" asked Crusch.
Ainz shook his head, "I can't say I've had the displeasure of meeting them yet. But if they can use [Teleportation] then they may be worth investigating further… Back where I came from, such a simple magic trick was mandatory for any caster."
'Do I get her involved with the hunt of the Witch Cult after killing the whale? Hmm… I think I can handle that alone.' Ainz thought to himself.
But that could still wait. For now he needed to see if the duchess had any information of the whale that he didn't, "Since I told you of how we'll get there, can you tell me what you expect to face? I, of course, have information on the beast, but I'd like to double check."
Crusch nodded and said, "It's a massive, flying beast that is perpetually surrounded by mist. Frankly, aside from that, the White Whale is shrouded in mystery."
Ainz briefly looked at Wilhelm, but the man simply stared somewhere into the distance, seeing a past that tormented him for ages. Out of respect for his elder, the undead mage decided not to probe.
He put a skeletal hand to his chin and said, "Depending on the nature of the mist, I may have to use some more impressive magic…"
"Nature of the mist?" asked Crusch, slightly perplexed by his statement.
"If it is formed by magic, then I will have to use stronger magic to overpower it. If it somehow makes it via some biological feature, then I can conjure a breeze with a basic spell and be done with it." Ainz answered.
The Overlord went on to coordinate his assault alongside the duchess, oblivious to the outside world…
ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
Her attacks were sluggish, lacking form and finesse, simply the desperate strikes of someone fighting for their life. Each time she swung her katana, she felt a part of her remaining strength leave her.
Blood from numerous wounds filled her vision, and her once silver hair was tainted with crimson. Her opponent on the other hand was ecstatic, a wide grin on his face.
"Is this all you have? The body of the wonderful witch I follow is so weak? I wonder if she will let me claim this flesh for myself…" he said, blocking her strikes without a care in the world.
The silver half-elf had no way to answer, her breath already ragged. Each time the air, tinged with the smell of death and iron, entered her lungs, it burned.
Hatred filled her mind as the man continued his incessant blabbering. All the pain, all the sadness caused to her thanks to nothing more than her appearance… It came in like a flood each time the foul cultist spoke.
She wanted to sit down, to cry, to shut him up. A torrent of torment lashed out inside her soul, but she lacked the power to manifest it into the real world. The cold blizzard, which would have left both the man and the mansion as nothing more than icicles, was outside of her reach.
"You are beginning to bore me… And I wouldn't want to scar your flesh anymore. I do want to have my fun after all." said Niklas, launching a kick at Emilia's chest.
Her blade nearly caught his leg, but it made its way past her guard and hit her directly in the stomach. She flew backwards, hitting the wall and slumping forward. Her blade was still in hand, but she could barely keep hold of it.
Soon enough, her vision began to dim fully.
But the humiliation, the pain, the horror, all of them remained.
All but one magic item was gone from her possession and she could only look on as the man eyed her exposed chest, her clothes already shredded and nothing more than ribbons. There was no reason in his eyes, nought but madness and lust swirled in an infinite circle that seemed to have no end.
As he was about to defile the forbidden fruit that his efforts had brought on, Emilia sent but one word out into the void, the ring on her left index finger channelling its otherworldly power. And with that, her consciousness drifted away.
Niklas looked on in glee as all resistance faded from his obsession and nought but the flesh was left.
Oh how he wished to hear her scream, to beg! What a shame that the girl had put up such a fight… But he should have expected this from the future vessel of his mistress.
Ah, to break the one who broke the world, what a feat that would be! To indulge himself and bring about the one he desired even more! His service to his lady would surely be rewarded.
He reached forward, his slim, delicate hand grasping greedily at the girl in front of him. But, as it was about to reach his heartfelt desire, he felt a skeletal hand wrap around his neck…
ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
"I'm sure you'll find the deal to be beneficial for us both, Lady Karsten. And, with our preparations all set, I have to ask, how do you think the other candidates will react?" Ainz asked, leaning forward and propping his skull up on his bony hands.
Yet, the answer of the Duchess didn't interest him, for a [Message] tugged at his mind. He grasped at the thread, feeling the urgency with which it lashed out, and all that came through was a single word.
{Help}
With the skill brought on by thousands of hours of practice, Ainz teleported to Emilia and stopped time. He scanned his surroundings. The white hallway around him was stained with blood, and hooded corpses littered the floor.
His eyes found Emilia, the girl bruised and battered, evidently unconscious. Judging by her current state, it was truly a miracle she even managed to send out that [Message] in the first place. Her clothing was ripped to shreds, two of her fingers were missing, and her blood spilled out of her many wounds.
Ainz then looked at the man in front of Emilia. A vague sense of remembering the man's face came to him, and then it clicked. This was one of the knights from the Selection gathering in the capital! Naturally, that didn't explain these rather… infuriating circumstances.
Anger flared up within him. This man interrupted his negotiations and attacked his liege… A green light briefly came over Ainz and the soon-to-be blaze returned to a simple flame.
He stepped in front of the man and beckoned time to return. Time heeded the will of its master and marched forth, bringing back the colour of the world. The Overlord's skeletal hand reached out and grabbed the man by the neck, lifting him off the ground.
"I suppose I should congratulate you. Even when I was attacked by a maid, I was not this irritated." Ainz began, ignoring the flailing of the traitorous knight, "To not only harm my liege, but to inconvenience my negotiations as well; you must have had a death wish. But I'll grant that after I'm through with you. [Paralysis]."
Niklas went limp in Ainz's hand, falling to the bloodied floor with an unceremonious thud. The undead mage meanwhile kneeled in front of the unconscious half-elf. "[Life Essence]." he said, trying to analyse the severity of her injuries.
And, while she wasn't exactly on death's door, she was getting close. He took out several potions. One was for healing, another for potions, and yet another for curses. After dumping a few low-level potions on her silver hair, the girl, aside from her clothes, looked brand new. Her fingers returned, her wounds healed up, and her breathing stabilised.
Ainz took the blade that fell from her limp hand into his inventory, before looking at her hands. "So the poison and teleportation rings are gone; I'd rather not let those go to waste. [Locate Magic Item]." he said, waving his hand in front of the girl.
A faint trail of mana materialised ahead of Ainz, and he followed it. Thankfully, it didn't involve any complex searching, as the rings were simply on the floor in the corridor. He activated [Fly] and floated above the corpses littering the ground.
"She did quite a number on these guys." Ainz mumbled, looking at the hooded figures, "I suppose that training is already paying off." An odd sense of pride briefly appeared within him. After all, it was his candidate who managed to fight off so many adversaries.
After picking the two rings up, he made his way back to Emilia and the paralysed assailant. With a quick [Shockwave] directed at a nearby wall, Ainz opened up a way to the outside. While the gore and all didn't bother him, the smell wasn't pleasant.
He scooped up Emilia into his hands and carried her outside. After putting her down onto a freshly created, ebony bed and covering her with one of the many low-level cloaks he had in his inventory, he went back inside. Given that Emilia was now out of harm's way, he decided to get to the bottom of this situation.
The sound of Niklas' body being dragged across the dirt could be heard, followed closely by another thud as Ainz tossed Niklas in front of himself. Ainz looked over at the man, and a grimace would have spread over his face if he had had flesh.
"To think I didn't give Emilia a proper escort… What am I, an amatuer?" he asked himself. He of all people should have known how escort missions worked! And yet he forgot about it, too engrossed in attempting to outwit Crusch.
"Maybe I'm really not cut out for all this knight business." he mumbled. But before he could kick himself too hard, his emotions returned to an appropriate level. Irritation still remained, as did a bit of anger and regret, but it was time to turn to more practical matters.
This situation was something to learn from, and he would learn everything he could from it. He crouched over the still paralysed man, putting his skeletal hand to Niklas' forehead.
"This may go very well, or very poorly. Though it's not like it should matter to you, since you'll be dead by the end of it either way. [Control Amnesia]."
The already overcomplicated spell of YGGDRASIL now took root in this world, and Ainz could feel his mana drain by the second. It was almost akin to flipping through a filing cabinet, one that was filled with various memories.
There was no chance in hell he would be able to get through all of this without using some rare items to restore his mana, and so he decided to be selective.
He managed to skim through the most recent week of the man's life and pick up quite a few keywords. Most importantly, the man was part of the Witch Cult, and quite up there at that. As it turned out, he was part of the "Ten Fingers" of a certain Archbishop of Sloth, Betelguese Romanee-Conti.
His plan involved catching Emilia and using her to bring about the rebirth of the Witch of Envy. Whether there was any actual reason to believe such a thing would be successful, Ainz couldn't tell. But the most interesting part was yet to come. The actual rebirth of the Witch was supposed to take place on Roswaal's estate.
"Curious. And this cult seems to be more of an issue than I expected if they target her specifically… I guess I can hunt them directly after the whale." Ainz said, pulling his hand away from Niklas and instead putting it to his temple.
{Roswaal.} Ainz said, {I believe you know why I am contacting you?}
{Ooof course, master. I was juuust about to tell you about the archbishooop. It seems you are a steeep ahead yet again.}
{I respect that you are at least somewhat caught up, Roswaal.} Ainz bluffed, hoping that the clown would once more be oblivious to the Overlord's own cluelessness, {Now tell me, can you stall the archbishop and defend until I arrive?}
{Naturallyyy. The undead you have createeed are splendid indeeed.}
{In that case I will contact you after the White Whale is dead. Keep me informed if anything you can't deal with comes up.}
And with those parting words, Ainz cut off the connection. He sighed, or at least attempted to despite his lack of lungs. The irritation and anger slowly wore off.
He learned a lot of valuable info, and managed to rescue Emilia before things got really bad. One could call that a success. Still, the regret at having neglected Emilia's safety remained. It was literally in his job description to defend her!
Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. A brilliant and devilish plan wormed its way into his mind. He couldn't be in two places at once, but having Emilia be accompanied by a powerful summon would be only marginally worse.
He looked down at the paralysed man at his feat. If Niklas' memory served and was accurate, he was implanted with something called a Witch Factor, or at least a small part of it belonging to the actual archbishop.
This, combined with his decent strength judging by the fact that he could take on Emilia, meant that he could hopefully be used to summon a powerful undead.
He dragged him a ways away from Emilia, since the undead he had in mind would passively cause instant death. Once he was far enough away, he pointed at Niklas. "[Death]." Ainz said, causing the man to go limp, "[Summon High Tier Undead: Eternal Death]."
Eternal Deaths were a truly exceptional summon, so much so that they required 2 of the 4 daily charges of this skill to create. They were a thief-type with excellent skills, stealth and concerningly high damage.
The one downside was that they could cause widespread destruction via their [Aura of Death and Decay], but he hoped the summon would be able to turn it off. And that appeared to be the case, as the grass around him still remained green as the summoning process began.
Where once lay a human's body, now there was a puddle of goo that slowly took on a different shape. It grew to a height of around 190 centimetres, but quickly dropped to its knees once it gained the physical ability to do so.
Its attire was made up of pitch black cloth, not too dissimilar in style from death assassins. However, it was of noticeably better quality, akin to being cut from pure darkness rather than the decent material of its middle tier kin.
Not a single piece of rotten flesh or exposed bone was visible as the creature took form, except for its face. Beneath the pitch black hood was smoke. It was as simple as that. A cloud of black smoke whirled where a face or a skull should have been.
Yet in that smoke, two streaks of red appeared. They stirred to and fro, only to settle down, almost resembling the eyes on a face. Ainz had to admit, the design always appealed to his own sense of style.
The undead summoned appeared to reorient itself, before stabilising and kneeling before Ainz, "At your service, my lord." came the voice from it. It almost had a whistle-like quality to it, and it was as calm and soothing as the embrace of death.
To satisfy his innate curiosity, Ainz spoke and asked, "Do you remember anything of your past life?" If they did then they would make a less than suitable guard…
The Eternal Death shook its head, "No, my lord. I was only created by your might just now." it answered.
'Hmm, so they are separate from the body's past consciousness. And are these meant to speak so much in the lore? Or is it because of the witch thingy that was in the body? I guess it makes communication for Emilia a bit easier.' Ainz thought to himself.
"I see. In that case, you are to guard the one known as Emilia, even at the cost of your own life. Try to not reveal yourself in public, but stay close to her at all times. Though do give her some privacy when it's appropriate. If you need anything to fulfil your mission then tell me. If nothing comes to mind, then go and serve me faithfully." Ainz said.
With one last lowering of its head, the summon moved away at a blistering pace, activating its stealth abilities. Though Ainz could see through illusions thanks to his [Arcane Vision], the Eternal Death was still invisible for him.
But as the footsteps of one creature disappeared, they were replaced with another. The assassin was replaced by a mage as Emilia, wrapped in the ebony cloak Ainz had covered her with, made her way towards him. Her steps were unsteady and the girl appeared to be almost in a stupor.
She made her way to the undead mage and said, "Ainz? You are here, so that means… But… Did you heal me? What happened?"
Ainz let the girl lean onto him as she swayed from side to side, saying, "Your [Message] reached me, and I made it in the nick of time. From there, I healed you, and now here we are."
"Then… What about Niklas?" she asked, her hands balling up into fists and her nails digging into her pale palms, "What happened to him?"
"I dealt with him." Ainz said resolutely, hoping to give the girl some peace of mind, "He will no longer be an issue. But I am still obliged to apologise. I left you alone and without an escort. I am sorry." he said.
Emilia shook her head, "No, it's my fault. I shouldn't have trusted him… It's my fault for being so foolish."
"In that case it seems we are both guilty of negligence. In order to make sure this doesn't happen again, I hope you won't mind if I assign a permanent guard to you." Ainz said, deciding that arguing with her about who was really at fault would do neither of them any good.
"A guard? Like who?" she asked, looking up at Ainz.
The Overlord snapped his fingers once more, and the Eternal Death materialised in front of the two, already kneeling.
'I guess I should expect such behaviour from a summon.' Ainz thought to himself, before saying, "This is an undead I summoned, an Eternal Death to be precise. It will guard you, and I assure you that its strength is up to the task."
"I will protect you for as long as my lord wishes, Lady Emilia." the summon said.
The half-elven girl was evidently desensitised to the presence of undead and simply said, "A pleasure to meet you."
Before she could reach out to greet her new guard, the undead disappeared into thin air again, prompting Ainz to say, "It'll remain stealthed unless you order it to do otherwise. But try not to display it in public. Oh, and I almost forgot."
He took out Emilia's sword and rings, handing them back to her. The girl put the rings back on, wincing slightly as the very recent memory of having her fingers cut off resurfaced. She then accepted the blade and looked at Ainz. "So… what now?" she asked.
Ainz looked at the mansion in front of himself. "Emilia, how far away is this place from Crusch's mansion?"
"Umm, about an hour by carriage? It's really not that far." she answered, perplexed by the intent behind the question.
"In that case I believe a demonstration is in order, although some would call it a declaration of war. Stay here for a moment." he said, going back inside. A few moments later, he returned with several bodies magically floating behind him.
Once he dragged them out in front of the mansion where Emilia stood, he cast [Bone Stake] on each of them. The impaled bodies of the hooded cultists made for a grim image, or perhaps a warning?
'Crusch should be able to see this all the way from her mansion, or at least notice it. And it should make for some pretty great publicity as well.' Ainz thought to himself, cycling through his various spells.
"Would you like to see something impressive, Emilia?" he asked, finally settling on something visible and flashy. The girl nodded, and he cast some defensive magic on the area around him, including the cultist bodies and Emilia.
He then pointed at the beautiful mansion and made his decree, "[Maximise Magic: Meteor Fall]."
Like the judgement of God, a brilliant star materialised above the mansion. Flames covered it as Ainz and Emilia looked on, one simply curious and the other shocked.
After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, it hit the mansion and the ground shook. Wood and marble was reduced to dust and ashes beneath the force of the spell, turning the marvel of architecture into a memory.
The resulting shockwave sent dirt and stones flying everywhere, demolishing the once wonderful courtyard. Green grass was scorched, leaving behind only a pitiful landscape of grey and brown.
Emilia looked on at the result of Ainz's power, protected from the effects of it all by the Overlord's magic. It was truly like something out of a myth with the Witches of legend.
Ainz meanwhile observed the results of his actions the way a scientist might look upon the results of his experiment. YGGDRASIL didn't have the ground react to spells unless it was all scripted, so seeing the area where the mansion once stood change into a charred crater was entertaining to say the least.
The spectacle of it all was exactly what he had hoped for. Crusch was nearly guaranteed to see it, and the people in the capital would soon enough learn of it.
He dusted off his clothes out of instinct, even though the magical barrier he had set up made sure no such things would interfere, and nonchalantly said, "I believe that settles the matter here."
"Ainz…" Emilia said, "Everyone was already dead. Why do this?" she asked. The Overlord's power was marvellous to behold, most certainly, but such a display appeared to her to be… nearly meaningless.
"Why? Oh, it's quite simple actually. This," he said, gesturing at the now ruined landscape, "is a message. First, to the Witch Cult. Wherever we find them, all that will remain of them will be ash and despair. And secondly, it's a message to the people, so that they know our words are backed by prowess. After all, I'm sure they are tired of hearing false promises from nobles who can't achieve anything they speak of."
"I know we are supposed to hunt them, but do you have some sort of plan?" she asked, her eyes briefly being ripped away from the destruction caused by the Overlord.
Ainz, proud of himself as can be given that he did in fact have a plan for once, said, "As a matter of fact, I do. Don't tell me you'd expect me not to?" he said, chuckling. "First, we deal with the White Whale. I have also managed to track down one of the archbishops. If that does not prove you are the only candidate capable of purging this vile cult, then nothing will."
Emilia nodded and said, "Alright, but may I have a minute to rest? This day has been…" She didn't finish her sentence, and Ainz didn't force her to. Her legs were still unsteady, and the Overlord presumed the girl was still at least in mild shock.
"Of course. Teleport to Roswaal's mansion. You will be safe there, and do not worry, the Eternal Death can follow you even via teleportation. Take a few days off; I will deal with the consequences of all this. Though I hope you will join me on the hunt for the whale."
The half-elf nodded, saying, "I'll see you then, Ainz." She then disappeared, leaving Ainz alone in the hellscape of his own creation.
Was all of this overkill? Maybe. But it was certainly cathartic. And besides, what better way to make an impression was there than to annihilate these cultists completely?
The fact that all of this interrupted his negotiations with Crusch was unfortunate, but at least his show of force would quell any doubts about his strength that lingered in the duchess' heart.
Sure, she had seen him fight Julius, and the recording from his past, but one was not all that impressive compared to the White Whale and the other may have very well been all smoke and mirrors. For her to learn that all he would need to do to knock the whale out of the sky is to utter two words, would certainly put her at ease.
Or it would make her think twice of standing against him. Then again, maybe he was just paranoid? After all, she seemed fairly on board and cooperative.
'Well, even if it wasn't needed for her, then at least those who haven't seen me in action will think twice.'
A few things dominated the world of politics in which the game known as the Royal Selection was played. Wit, intelligence, and power were some of the most important ones, and given that Ainz wasn't too sure of the former two, no matter what Roswaal thought of him, he had to overcompensate with the last.
But one last thought lingered in Ainz's mind, 'I hope they don't make me deal with any paperwork concerning this…'
(AN from Edgy: Well, the last iteration of this was quite polarising. But it seems that most of you would prefer something like this, so here it is. I am a people pleaser after all. For those of you who prefer the original, it'll be pinned in my channel in the Grand Library of Ashurbanipal discord.
I'd like to briefly elaborate on my decision to rewrite this. I came to this decision after consulting with my coauthor and beta readers. While I find the previous chapter to be better in terms of writing and emotions therein, it was placed a bit too early narratively. In the future I'm sure I'll have the chance to write a chapter that is equally emotionally charged, but this simply wasn't the time for it in the story.
Not much to say, besides that. As always, more to come and I hope you've enjoyed the story so far!)
(AN from Aterro: Since your reactions to the previous version of this chapter were mixed we decided to rewrite it. One thing to point out though, there is a distinct difference between being emotionless and having one's emotions suppressed. I hope you'll enjoy this version better than the last one.)
Pa tr e on DOT com / EdgyTheWriter