I went through my submitted chapters and found some grammar mistakes so I apologize for any frustration that those may have caused and still causing -because I am too lazy to fix them right now! -. I treat the chapters just like I would treat a college essay, written late at night and hurriedly submitted. Anyways if you still enjoyed the read, great!

As for the couple reviews I have gotten, thank you! It is always great to hear feedback since it allows me to look at what I have written in another perspective. Criticism, encouragement and comments are welcome. [Gimme Gimme] reviews!

About the OC replacement request, I can. However, currently I am only going to be dealing with this story. If I can make something out of this and begin posting less frequent, longer chapters, I may start a second replacement story with OC. Sadly, that is for the distant future since I am busy with real life stuff right now.

Grendell is sadly not gourmand :p

Also, some may think why the remaining imps of the clown did not report to Demiurge. They were the clown's summons. They died too, when the Clown was whooped by Grendell.

And for the last review, I award you for the most writer friendly review of the story my man! Thanks for the input. The MC stuff will be revealed in the future; a project I am working on since I have a lot to write about ancient/wild magic. But don't expect him to be op nor become op by getting stronger. Just wiser and more capable. Strong successful characters are satisfying to read about but we already got Ainz for that. I have thought about making thoughts Italic but was scared that it won't convert when I upload. I will try it with this chapter. See if you will like it better this way.

Since this has a lot of Demiurge related stuff, things will get ruthless and nasty. I won't go into detail for the sake of the story's rating but be prepared. Chapters with Edward in it won't be pretty.

Onwards with chapter 3.

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Chapter 3

The sky was dark, the crater that replaced the church looked like a gateway to the abyss. A lone tower rose next to it.

Edward was standing on his suitcase up in the air. His passive ability [Night Sight] allowed him to see the scene as he was looking at it at noon. Besides the ones coming from the village, he did not sense anyone's presence.

There were smaller craters that vaguely resembled a humanoid shape at one side of the greater crater. If he was a regular demon, he would surely be amused after figuring out what took place, which he did figure, but he was devoid of such emotions.

'The thing was standing there, he smashed the clown there, and there, and there and back to there, so on. A total of twelve times, is it? No, fourteen. The body… No, most of the body was then flung that way.'

His eyes soon after found the barely visible corpse stuck in between the rocks.

'And the rest was probably… eaten? at that side. The suspect is not human; the vague footprints are way too large for that to be the case. This is hard soil, it had gotten compressed and solidified by the weight of the building too, for footprints to be formed, the creature must be very heavy.'

'I can't see any footprints anywhere else. How strange, it can't still be here, so it either has wings, some way to reduce its weight, or can use teleportation magic. Tsk, what a bother.'

Edward then turned his attention towards the tower.

'My my, he was not alone.' Couple bloody and much smaller footprints were present near the door. 'Tall, male, was running.'

The demon then proceeded to investigate the tower; took the remains of the corpse out and laid it on to the grass, made some arrangements for the transport of all books to Nazarick and reported to Demiurge. After sharing his findings with the floor guardian he exited the tower, stepped back onto his suitcase and took to the air.

'I may have to summon some tracker demons to get to them, but first I will make a visit to the village. It would be excellent if he has been there. It took me two days to fly here. If I know where or at least which direction they have gone, I won't be leaving devil-san without a lawyer for too long.'

….

Unbelievable! The church had left its place to a massive crater! The new condition of the church was found out around noon and nearly all of the villagers have gone to see the destruction. Everyone in the village, especially the chieftain had thoroughly scanned the site but no one cared for the lone tower that stood. It was the library wing and they did not care about books.

The villagers seldom visited the building since the church wasn't really a place of worship. When they did, it was the listen to the tales of the old from the priests. Now, they all wanted to visit the crater, it was massive! The priests were certainly dead after such destruction. Although they were saddened deeply, they were more curious to find what has actually transpired. However, the village elder had declared the grounds to be cursed and not to be touched.

Although the villagers were curious, they were scared from the ominous situation and the menacing elder Helga. She had declared that visiting the site had to be abstained from for at least a week before the villagers should sate their curiosity. So they scanned the area with their eyes from afar only. Helga's word carried great weight.

'The more they touch, the more they know, the more they talk about it, the more they are in danger. If we don't poke our noses, it is more likely that we will be left alone. If everything Thur said was true, it is very likely that this supreme being worshipper lord will act to find out his servant's fate.'

She wanted to think that Thur was lying but she had seen the damage under the morning sun when they got out of her house together. Now, what Thur said was to a degree confirmed.

'I am the only one who knows his story. The lord will realize that the villagers know nothing even if it means the death of some. Maybe mine too, but the rest will be safe. No wise lord would waste his time in an insignificant village, while what he seeks is on the run.'

Helga wanted to be sure but she couldn't. Resistance was futile, they had to wait until the storm passed on. 'I hope those two will be safe in their travels.'

Nothing happened until the night of the second day after the discovery.

….

Edward looked at the village. All villagers except for six which guarded some roads were in their houses, sleeping. Truly, it was a pathetic sight. 'These people should be punished just for breathing. They would have been punished exactly for it in hell but this world is improperly lenient on its pathetic inhabitants.'

He sighed, 'Devil-san would have been horrified if he had seen how easy these ants are taking it here.'

Edward carefully looked around the village. His eyes stopped in front of a small house next to the large building in the center of the village. 'I am devilishly lucky tonight.' He exhaled harder than usual, that was the closest Edward could get to a sinister laughter.

The mud on the ground had footprints very similar to those he found near the tower. 'Maybe I don't even need tracker demons; I am pretty good at this.'

He lowered himself to the ground, opened his suitcase to take out a smaller briefcase. The suitcase was an item (summons cannot drop their items as loot) that had many functions including fast travel via air and infinite storage. The briefcase however, was what he used for his profession. Every lawyer needed a trusty briefcase.

She was awake when Edward entered into her house.

Helga observed as a man in strange black and white attire came inside her house. It was night and she got poor eyes but Helga could still see the vague shape of the man's face and body from the moon light.

He closed the door behind him cutting the moonlight soon after. Now she could only see a pale oval for the face and a downward triangle for the shirt while the rest blended into the dark.

As Helga slowly came to her senses, she realized that she probably should have said something. After all, a stranger had entered into her house in the middle of the night without uttering a single word. But Helga just knew, that the man already knew her contact with Thur. What would it do to act ignorance. He had directly come to her house, didn't he?

"Is it only me that you have visited tonight sir?"

"I know that you have talked with the man from the tower. He came to you." His voice was rasp and nasal.

The man just walked over to the decrepit table and opened his suitcase. He was closer now so she could see what he was doing. He took out a short black stick and paper.

"This is a pen" Raising his hand with the black stick. "It works like a quill but does not need an inkwell. Now spare me your words woman and write everything you know on the paper. I will be utterly disappointed if you people can't even read and write."

Helga did know how to read and write.

'If I say I can't he will surely try another way to make me talk. Maybe it is the best to just play along. I can most certainly write a very detailed and convincing story; if he wouldn't mind reading lies.'

He put his briefcase in front of the sitting woman and put the pen and paper on top of it. The pen made a click noise before he put it on the briefcase.

"Write and don't waste my time, for every ten seconds of pause, I will kill one of the villagers. Believe it or not, it is pretty easy to kill them from over here."

Helga slowly picked up the pen and paper. 'He is not lying; I can sense it. Well, if he is that dangerous, might as well send him towards the Republic which in the opposite direction.'

A piece of flesh hit one of her knees and dropped to her side.

"Ten seconds have passed." It was definitely less than that.

Helga moaned in sorrow as she realized it was a human heart. She could guess where he got it from, it was still beating. Blood spurted on his leg and thighs from every contraction.

A second after Helga hurriedly began writing, her head shook wildly by a pull on her ear. The top of the ear separated from the rest of the flesh and disappeared, letting blood trickle down. The pain was immense.

'The pen…'

"Write the truth, and only to truth. If not, you will be sending yourself to hell piece by piece; one lie at a time. Writing a dishonest testimony is a crime punishable by the court."

Thereafter Helga spent her worst night ever.

…..

Berethur and Grendell were on a boat. He had somehow managed to slip the ring on his pinky while he was slurping the bone marrow of the leg bones. It was funny how his pinky was raised like he was drinking from a wine glass as he sucked on the marrow.

After that everything had become very easy. Grendell was for some reason very happy about wearing the ring and followed him around like a puppy. His size had shrunk from seven feet to six feet and his width and girth were now in close to human proportions.

Berethur had put his cloak over him and lead the way to the nearest city to the south. He had rented a boat at the town and now both of them were in it, sailing along the shore to the biggest city in the south west, Rizette.

"If we stick to the shore and jump from city to city by using sea transport, it is highly likely that I can take you out of Holy Kingdom without getting unwanted attention." He was talking to Grendell out of boredom. The beast was just sitting under the cloak watching the sea.

His eyes went wide whenever he saw some moss floating or a fish.

"Then the hardest part will ensue. We can't shore-hop in unknown territory plus I can't resupply. We will have to go through beastmen territory and the orc settlements on foot. After that comes the dwarfs and elves. That won't be any less dangerous, given how stealthy elves are and how much the Theocracy have antagonized them against humans."

"But you know what Grendell, we can do it. I got the brains, and you… had the brawn." He was curious if the ring also affected Grendell's strength.

'Whatever, I don't want to think anymore. Senile hag told me what to do, and I will exactly do that. I have to; I am going to be worse off mentally then Grendell otherwise.'

"Want to learn about wild magic big boy?" Berethur opened the book he got from the library.

"It will be a long trip so I think I will school you on the most unfashionable magic currently existent on the continent." He smirked.

The book was written way before the Greed Kings or the Six Heroes, it was written by a powerful mage called Merlin Monroe around a thousand years ago. At least the dates on it suggested that. The book itself has not aged nor got dirty since it was written.

Berethur opened into the first few pages of the book. "You see Grendell, while tiered magic system relies on MP and magical attunement from the caster, wild magic requires neither."

"Wild magic requires life essence. To cast wild magic, you need to deconstruct and strip away power from a source. That is why most people believe wild magic requires sacrifices. Mostly correct but not the whole truth. For example, one can use his own essence to cast."

"That doesn't necessarily mean that the caster will sacrifice himself for the spell. The amount of life force to be taken can be controlled. One can hone his skills in such magic by practice, creating more favorable exchanges of life essence for magical power."

"Another difference is that tiered magic, besides silent casting, needs the user to utter the name of the spell, with sufficient MP and attunement, the spell will activate."

"For its unpopular counterpart however, you need to "speak" the spell. It is like another language but more analytical. You speak a command and the magic will work itself until the command is completed or the life essence is run out."

"That is one of the reasons why tiered magic has shadowed the other. Losing MP will eventually tire you out, but won't kill you. It is trading your innate talent for spells. However, if you command something that requires too much building material with wild magic, it will kill you or the source and the spell won't even take action."

"This however, is not the main reason why wild magic is a lost art. The reason it is lost is that because we do not know any source on the spoken language of wild magic. Those commands I talked about exists but no one knows. All we have are some volumes of Master Merlin's work, this book being one, that tweaks this fascinating language into written alphabet that we can't pronounce. And even from that we only get a tiny peak into written structure."

"Exactly Grendell!" Berethur said sarcastically.

"As you can tell now, wild magic is an art that is conducted solely in the written form! A spoken form for the foreign language could not be created. If you don't want to grab a quill and paper in the midst of a battle and scribble away furiously, you better not use wild magic, hahahah!"

"Haaaah" Berethur concluded his laughter with a sigh.

"If only we had all the books of Master Merlin in the library. If only someone spoke the god damn language of wild magic."

Berethur closed the book he has opened and put it next to him. He suddenly felt very sleepy.

Grendell had already dozed off. His chest rose and fell with each breath. Berethur sighed one more time and closed his eyes.

Next to him part of the book was under the shadow of the sail, while the sun shone brightly on the rest. One could make out the words "…asil Source Code."