It is no coincidence that silent forests are the home ground of witches and superstitions long before the modern age. Abject fears and superstitions were a large part of culture to explain what couldn't be explained, and tales of wandering into forests never to return abounded in all parts of the world.

Was it because they were inherently dangerous? Or because of a human tendency to get hopelessly lost in them after abandoning their wild roots for civilization?

In any case, the Land of Shadows was a forest that personified mankind's fears and trepidations. Spirits wander within, the undead yet live as husks of rotting flesh or mangled skeletons, all overseen by a heinous Witch capable of slaying Gods with a cursed red spear.

A prison for the malefic and deprived, it was no place for humans to freely wander, let alone an undead. For humans, the forest was a testing ground from which the Rune Witch scoured for a potential that could eventually surpass and kill her through honoured combat, but for the rest, it was a mental and physical hell.

The bounded field that comprises the Land of Shadows contained a perpetual effect that was inherently potent to the living and the dead.

Minds play tricks in this place far better than even the personal skills of a Caster and their territory creation. Within the boundary of gnarled branches and wilted shrubs was a domain that was increasingly sadistic and harsh for the faint of heart and will.

Scathatch frowned as the Rune Witch overseeing her territory from the vaunted castle of DunScaith. Within her realm, she could see and hear all as its overseer and keeper.

As part of Cu's training, his mind had been hardened to endure and cleanse both mental and physical ailments on himself inflicted by the mystics of the Land of Shadows.

It was even incorporated in one of Cu's personal skills.

'Disengage C.'

Cu was one thing, but undead were different in this space tailor-made to restrain them under a curse. If the mental attacks on humans could be categorized as anywhere from C – A Rank based on mental will, then against undead suffering under a curse and a targeting domain, the effect was EX Rank.

Scathatch harboured a fair deal of suspicion towards her land's newest resident, and that stemmed from her own experience. A lich, especially one who she theorized occupied the upper echelon of the race like Ainz, would be an entity that dabbled with numerous horrors.

To have forsaken humanity to become a monster, it was only fair to be treated as one.

What was worse was the intuitive impression that Ainz seemed to know her to an extent. Being as she had no recollection of him, her suspicions only grew. But then again, undead weren't beings she put much emphasis on remembering when they were felled under her spear. Instead, the added caution was because Ainz was in a party with Shirou.

Humming to herself, Scathatch stood up from a throne and leisurely stared out the window of her castle, her eyes seeing far into the distance.

'What are you hiding?'

Better than any interrogation, those unprepared for the forest would spill out their hearts at their own reservation.

'No, what are you seeing?'

Scathatch quickly shifted her thoughts as she watched Ainz wander further into the forest and come to a stop by a certain cave opening from an underbrush. The guarded and tense air constantly surrounding Ainz ever since Scathatch had thrown him into her realm began to quickly ease.

If she recalled, the location Ainz stopped at was a peculiar place where she'd managed to hunt new Monsters and undead in the New World.

Scathatch was many things, but lazy was not one of them. She'd not stayed idle in the mausoleum and had entertained herself with scouring the new world for worthy adversaries. Sadly, none of them were of much threat. A few took only a single look at her, and then fled like she was the devil, which she deemed a reasonable response…but she wasn't so sure anymore.

Coupled with the suspicion that Ainz had some impression of her, Scathatch began deeply thinking on the subject.

"T-Tabula?"

Scathatch narrowed her eyes while listening in to the conversation.

Ainz was staring into space as he spoke with a zeal that had been absent with her. It was a curious change, but Scathatch temporarily ignored Ainz.

She'd noticed a peculiarity.

One of the monsters she'd hunted in the New World reacted to the name. No, not just one, a couple others too as if waking up from a nightmare.

Ainz spoke as if he was addressing a large group, but Scathatch only counted six in the area. Considering how Ainz's tone hinted that he was speaking to equals, meant that other undead just as capable as Ainz could be wandering within the New World.

Scathatch noted the observations in her mind, but grew curious as Party terms and Raids were being freely spoken.

For Scathatch, YGGDRASIL hadn't been a game, but a part of her memories instead. All she could remember were thousands upon thousands of humans challenging her to honoured combat, but receiving only disappointment as they attacked her in groups. None of them were warriors, and as for the group of monsters that attacked her, it was hard for her to honestly remember-

Scathatch's eyes hyper focused all at once when Ainz did something she could never pretend to ignore.

Runic restraints immediately bound two figured in place before Scathatch vanished and then reappeared right in front of Ainz.

Her sudden presence must have snapped out Ainz out of his illusion because it looked like his world was collapsing form the flickering soul fire in his eyes.

"W-What?" Ainz muttered out in a whisper.

"…"

Scathatch didn't answer

All the proof she needed, she had.

Her teeth were clenched so hard that her jaw was growing more and more pronounced.

All that was left were lingering questions regarding the shape of the illusions Ainz had seen and that she'd hunt them down too if they dwelled in the outside world.

Then there was the unmistakable state of her wayward pupil…

There was something different about the look in his eyes-

She shook her head and grunted.

Grabbing Ainz and a silent Cu, she dragged both in the direction of her castle.

Ballroom etiquette. Shirou had never thought such a day would come, but not yet. He'd have impromptu lessons with Merlin later. For now, more pressing matters required his attention.

It was a few hours following the prior dinner reservation and spar, and a drunk Musashi was hanging over a sighing Sasaki's shoulders in another room. Brain was passed out in the hallway, Merlin was galivanting in the late-night, and the members of Blue Rose excused themselves after Lakyus cued in on the subtle way Shirou nodded at Momon and Nabe.

Gagaran and the twins frowned at being told they were leaving already, but it wasn't as if it would be their last meeting. They would be attending the King's ball as Blue Rose, and if Shirou was coming, then this was only a goodbye and not a farewell.

Moving to an isolated room in a tavern that was hosting the group, Shirou watched as Momon and Nabe tentatively followed him.

Awkwardness filled the air more than anything, and Nabe wasn't helping with the way her expression kept flickering between lost and determined.

Clearing his throat, Shirou gestured for everyone to make themselves comfortable before he would broach the topic.

Shirou sat on a secluded table on the far side of the tavern room, and Momon and Nabe took the seat across from him.

Nabe sat with her hands on her lap while Momon kept his back unnaturally straight.

Shirou no longer beat around the bush.

"Momon, Nabe." He opened carefully, not sure how they would take it. Yet, it was an issue that needed to be addressed before moving forward. "We need to talk. Neither of you are human, are you?"

Momon and Nabe glanced at each other, but it was hard to tell what Momon was thinking with his heavy plate helmet on. In contrast, Nabe was easier to discern. Her lips were pursed, and there was an odd tilt to her chin as if she resisting the urge to lift it to a higher position.

In truth, Nabe wouldn't have hesitated to express superiority towards a human if it was anyone else but Shirou. Then there was the fact that Merlin was part Incubus, so they stood on similar social levels.

Nabe opened her mouth to speak, but Momon cut her off as if knowing this sort of talk wasn't her forte.

Sighing, Momon took off his helmet as a sign of good faith, and revealed a plain face that wouldn't stand out in a crowd.

"Yes. We are not human, and my current face isn't even that of my own, but does that change anything?" Momon asked, his demeanor growing somber. "If you are uncomfortable with it, we can disband the party here and go our separate ways."

Nabe widened her eyes in shock. "But that's not-"

Did she like Team Darkness that much?

Shirou noted her sincerity, but Momon shushed her with a stern glare.

Nabe shut her mouth, infinitely anxious that she wouldn't be able to fulfil the last order Ainz had given her before facing the witch on his own. Pandora's Actor was ruining it!

Nervously, she bit down on her lips, but arguably, no one else in Nazarick had the right to say they knew Ainz more than the NPC Ainz personally created.

Grudgingly, Nabe followed Pandora's Actor's lead.

She bowed her head and frowned heavily.

Every action fell under Shirou's scrutiny, and like it or not, what he could feel from Nabe and Momon was nothing else but sincerity. Neither were hostile to him, and instead showed increasing amicability to make something work with them.

In the end, was he one to judge others based on what they look like, or would he judge for what they are?

"Honestly, it was more about the secretiveness of everything," Shirou scratched the back of his head and grumbled, the atmosphere lightening. "But I judge more from actions rather than words."

Momon opened and closed his mouth before asking the most important question.

.

.

"And your assessment?"

"- The stars of the day."

Shirou held his breath as he was gestured to walk into a lavish hall illuminated by shining torch lights. Entering from the uppermost floor, there were stairs he and the others had to descend, a red carpet rolled down the center.

In the air, an ambient voice announced their presence for all attendees.

"The capital's newest heroes, Adventurer team, team Darkness, entering! Oh, and ugh, the handsomest Magic Caster- who wrote this?"

It was all too flamboyant for Shirou's tastes, but Merlin was like a fish to water even if he was just sneaking in from the side.

Lakyus and the other members of Blue Rose could be seen in the gala wearing formal dresses and being lauded by others. They tipped a glass in their direction, and tried to approach, but were intercepted by a gaudy looking prince in a cape.

Momon wore a dress shirt and kept to himself from behind Shirou, while Nabe's expression was frosty from the amorous gazes directed on her. She wore a black slit dress that had a more modern aesthetic than the noble women in corsets. It was a dress pulled out from one of the Supreme Being's stashes Shalltear kept that was more modest than the other daring things Nabe would rather drop dead than off to bugs.

Regardless, she stood out like exotic belly dancer.

At the highest seat, the King of Re-Estize hummed to himself while running a hand through his beard in careful thought. He was particularly annoyed at the greed flickering in the eyes of the nobility faction that plagued Re-Estize.

Clicking his tongue, King Ramposa III shifted his gaze back on Shirou while on either side of him was his eldest son, Barbro, and his only daughter, Renner, the Golden Princess.

"Barbro, remember that face," Ramposa said sternly. "That is a person who may revolutionize war as we know it. With the Annual War coming soon, it's imperative that we reach out an olive branch."

No reply.

Ramposa's brow creased before he glanced at his eldest son only to see him ogling Narberal. Frustration caused a vein to pulse over his neck, but at least his daughter Renner looked like she was committing his words to memory.

"That's the man you said can recreate any weapon?" Renner asked, her long locks of golden hair falling freely down the dress she wore. "Surely it has its limits."

Ramposa only wished it were so. He shook his head and pointed out Lakyus from Blue Rose in the crowd.

"To think there would have been a day where Blue Rose's leader was almost brought to tears…" Ramposa muttered.

"Father?" Renner tilted her head to the side.

Ramposa grunted. "As of this moment, there does not seem to be a limit. Even Lakyus's sword fell victim to counterfeit."

"A fake is a fake, isn't it?" Renner asked while Barbro continued staring transfixed at Narberal. He might even ask her to participate in the ball dance.

Ramposa only grew more disappointed while observing the difference in his children. Nonetheless, he still answered.

"Would a fake be enough to drive Lakyus to tears?" Ramposa closed his eyes and swirled a glass of wine in his grasp. "If you hid her sword among all those counterfeits, I doubt that even she would be able to tell which one was originally hers. Each and everyone might as well be the original."

Ramposa turned to his daughter.

"Renner," he said.

"Yes father?" Renner had an inkling of what her father would ask.

"Can I leave you in charge of kingdom relations? I intended to send Barbro, but I have reconsidered."

For a second, Renner's expression plummeted, as she'd had her own plans for the ball, but she couldn't outright refuse her father. She could tell even without her father explaining how revolutionary it would be to recruit Shirou into the kingdom and the Royal Faction.

The Noble Faction must have been thinking the same thing because Ramposa was glaring at them.

The problem came with the information that Shirou and the eccentric Magic Caster hailed from Roble Holy kingdom.

"It will be an honour father, but perhaps he already has a lady partnered with him for the dance?" Renner tried to tacitly decline, unwilling to participate in the political intrigue and draw the attention of her brothers.

Disappointment clouded Ramposa's expression, but he didn't force it because-

"You dare!"

/-/

Pandora's actor gloomily shook his head while a contemptuous expression of rage laced Narberal's face.

Sorry for smaller updates! The heat's been killing me and work isn't helping. I really need to buy a new AC. Sweating palms while typing is the worst.

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