Thank you for continuing to read the story. I know the first chapter was not the most satisfying, but I need to create a strong plot if I am going to be writing a fiction that is different from a "another supreme being" "Second comer" or "What Ainz going to do next" story. I am not saying those are bad topics, they are just easier to transition into and can have epic action much sooner. So I am only a little jelly.
Please let me know if you like how the story is turning up and if you find the current writing style satisfactory. I planned every chapter to be around 3k words.
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Chapter 2
Gems in Demiurge's eye sockets glowed dimly. The human was talking in a monotonous voice in front of him. A weak light was coming through the curtains as the sun crawled ever so slightly behind the other side of the continent. The light gently touched small parts of the room through the slits.
But the room remained mostly dark. The Major of the town was still talking and the shadow demons were still moving through the darkness of the room. Demiurge however, was unmoving.
He had been thinking about his summon. Redundant as it was, he had decided to check on some village at the very edge of the country. These people weren't originally from the continent, and their beliefs and culture was said to be different from other Thanians.
A relatively reclusive folk amongst the people of the Holy Kingdom.
To be frank, he was not at the slightest bit interested in the psychological and cultural phenomena of the folk of this country but he was in a mission for the benefit of Nazarick.
Every bit of information needed to be gathered. Ainz-sama himself regarded him as the most useful servant of the supreme beings and Nazarick.
Besides the instinctual joy he felt from serving the Supreme Beings, he couldn't help but feel a sadistic satisfaction from beating the other guardians in functionality and worthiness. Demiurge was a demon after all.
His intellectual prowess and tactical knowledge was one of the, if not the highest amongst the servant of the Great Tomb of Nazarick. But his wisdom…
Demiurge couldn't help but feel lacking to serve Lord Ainz when he was learning something new every second he has spent outside the tomb. It would be a sin to not find out useful knowledge and miss out on opportunities of servitude to the Supreme Beings.
'My summon is dead. The clown would have surely given Stronoff a hard time if the demon stayed in his reach. If not, the clown would have kill Stronoff without a sweat.'
'Then who… or what...?'
He hasn't observed any natural or magical phenomena that can kill a mid-tier summon in this world. Yggdrasil had locations that has noxious gasses coming out of the ground, grass that was sharp as a blade, frost storms that dealt massive frost damage overtime and many other naturally occurring hazards. This world so far however, had been one with very few hazardous phenomena. "Few" if you count the occasional flood by the heavy rain, or the low level cold effects one would experience in the mountains, as a health hazard.
For Demiurge and many much lower leveled inhabitants of Nazarick, this world had no natural dangers.
'Now this is very interesting.' He smirked. Demiurge had already made his plans and was following his agenda but he had the means and intention to check on this new development.
'It could be a monster, a player or strong adventurers. After all, a group of adamantite adventurers would most likely win against my summon with team work. Very intriguing indeed.'
He raised his hand, [Summon Calamity Tier Demon, Devil's Advocate].
A lifeless blue fire that did not emit any light budded from the thick ground. The ground was covered in thick carpets but they did not catch fire. The fire slowly rose till it was about Demiurge's height.
A body slowly appeared from the flames. As the body materialized the fire slowly subsided. A man, as neatly dressed as the floor guardian took a step towards Demiurge and tilted his head to wait his summoner's decree.
His polished black shoes were so clean and sharp looking that the expensive carpets under his feet looked pixelated and dirty. He wore a black suit that fitted perfectly over his body. His shirt was buttoned to the top and fit tightly around his neck. On top of the neck a long and thin face stood that looked like marble. His skin did not reflect any light, it wouldn't even under the brightest summer sun. Every detail of his dress, his step, the tilt of his head seemed that it could not have not been executed better.
"I have pulled you out of hell Eddy. I wish for you to find something for me or someone."
"Please call me Edward Demiurge-sama. Yes, I will find whomever you want. What are the details of the case? What wrong has this thing or one did to my client?"
Demiurge giggled, "Someone or something have killed one of my summons. I want him to be found." He then explained the details.
Edward looked emptily at the ground.
"Surely, that wasn't all you have called me for Demiurge-sama. Devil-san can get into trouble while I am not there."
"Nazarick won't fail twice. You better get moving Eddy, the sooner you deal with this, the sooner you can go back to hell."
Edward nodded. He took out a suitcase from nowhere and vanished into thin air.
Berethur looked at the beast who had now sat at the slope of the crater. It lazily chewed on the leg.
Grendell was a towering humanoid around seven feet tall, very broad and muscular. Mostly bald, the monster once was covered in thick fur but now the fur seemed to randomly sprout over the humongous body in small patches.
Many wounds were visible in the bald spots, one arm was missing and now Berethur could see that there was a thin and wide piece of metal poking out from the point where the creature's skull and the neck connected.
'I recall being told that my grandfather had found the beast unconscious on the shores of our island.' Grendell then lived a hermit life on the island, his ancestors and the beast had a mutual understanding and not crossed each other's way.
But through time, the village seemed to take a liking to the poor beast and the beast had gotten used to the villagers. After their Longship discovered these lands and first of his people settled, his grandpa decided to bring the creature along with them. However, Berethur had never seen the beast himself.
Berethur was born at the village and then joined to the church as a scribe to write down the oral history of the islanders. In return, he was educated in both tiered magic and wild magic. 'Never took an interest on that senile monster.'
'This is where they have kept him.' People of the church were some of the eldest of the community. It made sense that the creature would be with them. But he didn't get why he never heard of the thing throughout his time in the church.
He observed the figure. Grendell was very old, that he knew, but he did not have the wisdom of an ancient being. On the contrary, he was very dumb.
Berethur looked at Grendell's disinterest on what had transpired with a scowl. 'A "humble" Lord? Supreme being?'
'It all sounds very interesting and all but if you consider the damage dealt by that winged…demon(?), all of this mysterious stuff is extremely hazardous for human health.'
'I don't know what to do now. I need advice.' Both of his parents were dead from natural causes. All of his teachers, priests and a couple maids had gone missing, probably dead. He did not want to stay in this place, at all.
'Maybe the village elder. At least he can help me deal with this big boy. Then who knows… I just need to keep myself together until I reach the village'... 'Easy' he thought sarcastically, realizing his body was drenched in sweat and for some reason his eyes were teary.
Berethur gulped and cleared his throat. 'I have to make sure Grendell stays here until I sort things out.' He paused to think how he could get the thing to understand him.
"Umm, hey! Stay here until I come back, will you?"
Grendell seemed to find the leg of sour taste since his permanently contorted face wore a scowl as he looked at the center of the crater.
'This will be hard. I can't stay here anymore. I will just have to hope he won't walk away.'
He ran backed to his room, puffing as he climbed the last couple steps of the spiraling staircase. 'Should have been more physically active.'
It took him couple minutes to take his essentials, clothes, oil, ink, quill, a small knife for skinning and his equipment used for dissection and carving. He left his small alchemy set since it was impossible to fit it in his pack.
'This will do for now'
On his way back he picked a book from the library and hurriedly shoved it in to his pack.
It was a relief to find Grendell sitting at its spot when he came back down. He put everything he scavenged from the room and tower behind the doorway. Berethur took care to avoid the blood.
He did not want the pack to be any close to the beast.
He walked past the crater.
"Wish me luck big boy."
He began running towards the village.
The cocks sang his arrival as he passed through the houses. The villagers were completely unaware of the bloody events that has transpired.
Berethur even doubted that they would realize five/sixths of the church was missing until it was noon. The mundane life of the village has made the villagers exceptionally dismissive of anything new, even before they registered its context.
The road towards the church was barren and ended up at the shore so the villagers had no one guarding this entrance. He brushed aside the gazes of a few early birds and moved onwards.
The houses of the village had piles of stone as foundation and the walls were made out of wood. The roofs were made of a mix of wood, tamed skin and straws. They were designed to stand diagonal to the shore so that the wind got cut by the corners of the house rather than bang on their windows and doors.
Berethur easily made his way to the center of the village.
In the center, a long-house stood. It was made just like the ones in the islands, the home of the village chief and the gathering place of the people.
When Berethur reached the long-house, he made a sharp turn to the right and went into one of the smallest houses in the vicinity. His eyes searched the interior, hoping to find a familiar figure. A pair of sharp looking eyes met his gaze from the other side of the house.
"I guess respect from the yung'uns is too much to ask when they don't even give you privacy, keheh." The voice was weak and the small laugh sounded like coughing.
"Something attacked us. Most of the Church is annihilated, only me and that beast Grendell remain. Rest are probably dead but I am not sure. I found only one…half a body. Grandma Helga, what should I do now?" (Helga isn't related to Berethur, it is like the saying gramps, just a custom.)
His panic was gradually rising since he left the remains and he was not going to delve into pleasantries. Even if he wasn't panicking, Berethur could not have wasted time when the threat was so big, and so real.
The elder did not speak so he started talking again.
"A monster has annihilated everyone along with most of the church. I did not sense or felt anything until I saw the destruction. Grendell somehow survived the spell that killed everyone and managed to kill the monster caster. But I doubt this is the end of it Grandma."
"I am concerned for myself, the village and Grendell."
'Mostly about the village and I.'
Helga blinked as she tried to register all that was dumped on her. Her body was feeble and weak as a result of the century and a quarter she had lived for. But her mind was still clear and still as a lake.
"Pick me up."
After pausing for a second Berethur knelt in front of her, his back facing the old woman. She slowly climbed and pulled his hair rather forcefully while doing so. She then pointed her hand towards the door. They exited the house and turned their faces towards the sea.
She forcefull pulled on his hair again and pointed through the door. They went inside again.
Berethur put Helga back to her place and waited the old woman's response.
"Thur, if they come again we can't deal with them. That monster you talked about should have woken the old man up so he killed him. But he is not of a nature to protect our village."
She continued,
"Letting others know what you have told me will only cause trouble for them. Thur, I want you to leave with the old man and never come back to this village again. You know, as much as I, that this place is not safe for you and this village is not safe with you in it; not anymore."
Berethur felt very awkward. There was a lump in his throat. Yesterday, he was a student and a script, now he was an exile. He didn't think anything would surprise him anymore, he hit rock bottom without doing anything wrong. However, the elder managed to still surprise and terrify him.
"Don't let your fate weigh on you Thur. You need to take the old man with you too when you leave. You do not know, but Grendell is much more than what meets the eye. I want you to visit the flying castle to the south of the continent."
She could not be serious… "You want me to take a seven-foot-tall and nearly as wide one armed giant, who looks like the worst nightmare of any human, and probably any other race; halfway through the world. All that, just to make a pilgrimage to one of the places that was owned by the so called god-like creature Greed Kings who helped festering the world with the tiered magic system!?"
"Yes."
'Fuck.'
She then reached towards a decrepit looking table and grabbed something. She gestured him to extend his hand, then put the item in his extended hand.
It was a weird looking ring.
"Put this ring on Grendell's finger. This is one of the things we took from him when he was first found unconscious on our shores back at the islands. It shrinks a giant into human size, a human into dwarf, and if you are a dwarf, POP she laugh/coughed you will disappear!"
"Just like that? And how will we be travelling? How am I going to convince him to not sit on his fat ass and then keep him moving for gods know how many miles?"
"You will manage, just don't let him grab you. His instincts kick in when he grabs something."
…'Great.'
"Thur." Her voice was quite menacing.
"I know you came to me for advice. You always were one that thought himself superior among other men. For this once do not scrutinize and just listen to your elders. I cannot understand what you have went through tonight. But I want you to flee, and I want you to flee to the floating castle."
His studies have come to a halt, homeless, unemployed and under threat.
"I will go Helga, but this isn't the first time I listened to your words you senile hag!"
He stormed out of the house and went to fetch Grendell. He was hurrying to avoid the villagers. Somehow, going back to Grendell and possibly die putting a ring on his finger sounded better than explaining everything a dozen times to the thick skulled village folk and their thicker skulled chief."
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There you go, Chapter 2. I have chosen to inspire from Nordic myth and Legends. It seemed appropriate. If you want to learn more about what could have transpired in the past for Grendell. I highly urge you to read the Nordic epic Beowulf and "Grendel" a novel by John Gardner. They won't be spoilers since I just inspired from them. Thank you for reading.
