Sixth Floor Amphitheatre, One Week after Supremachia

"Let's begin the mission debrief for Operation: Zion. Please open your packets to page fifty-three as I outline our objectives and how we will achieve them. Are we all ready?"

The sound of a bell echoed throughout the Amphitheatre of Ainz Ooal Gown, drawing the attention of everyone present, including the players and NPCs. The venue was filled with over forty-one players and their respective virtual creations, as well as some maids and manservants. If such a gathering had taken place in the usual space, it would have been too crowded.

Ancient One and Punitto Moe stood at the center of a sand pit while their friends and non-playable characters were seated in the amphitheater's ascending rings. An oversized chalkboard had been set up, and the Amnizu Seer was holding a piece of chalk. Everyone in attendance was given a large packet of information that would essentially dictate their lives for the next few months.

Within it was all the information that Ancient One and Punitto Moe had collected on their neighbors. It contained a wide variety of info, ranging from the general attitudes of the populations to their current economic situations, to any notable individuals who might exist within that country's borders, to the prominent leaders in government, and so on.

It was, without a doubt, the single most comprehensive script the two strategists put together. One could liken it to a "wiki" of the New World (albeit quite limited to a specific region). Which meant it took a moment for everyone to shuffle to the appropriate page.

Once everyone was on the same page, he began in earnest. "I am certain all of you do not need a reminder of the chaos which has occurred. Enemies have come to our home and violated our sanctuary. The lands surrounding us are in ruin, the people are terrified, and monsters lurk in the shadows of all. As Momonga so passionately declared, we cannot ever be on the defensive again. Thus, we have constructed Operation: Zion to prepare ourselves for war."

"We have prepared a three-front countermeasure to get the ball rolling," Punitto Moe added, "We will be moving out in a few months to gather up allies and secure any Yggdrasil artifacts that exist in the hands of the natives. However, we cannot afford to overextend ourselves, so we will focus instead on our closest neighbors relative to Nazarick's position."

The leafy player nodded, and Ancient One cast a [Flight] spell on himself. He levitated in the air, drawing a rough outline of a map. At the center, he drew an X that signified Nazarick next to a simplified drawing of some mountains and trees. With a dotted line, he drew two circles on either side of the X. On the left, he labeled "Re-Estize" and on the right, he labeled "Baharuth Empire".

"So far, we have identified them as being Re-Estize and the Baharuth Empire. Our reconnaissance has gathered much info regarding the two nations. There is a third, the Slane Theocracy, but we have exercised caution with observation due to our encounters with the nation." Ancient One said.

"For the time being, we will focus primarily on the first two nations noted on the… roughly passable map here. Re-Estize, as you can imagine, faces intense economic and political strife. The fall of E-Rantel, the destruction of many of its villages and lands, and the constant bombardment on their supply lands have weakened them severely. We will be sending in two teams to infiltrate the nation. One team will be deemed our 'diplomats', whose sole mission is to ally our favor. The other team will be inserted covertly to hunt down and capture the criminal leaders of the capital's underbelly. You'll see some images of who we're talking about on page fifty-six."

Again, the guildmates and NPCs shifted to the appropriate pages. Listed at the top of the page was a small list of various leaders of an organization known simply as "Eight Fingers", who in turn had employed a small but elite mercenary group known as "Six Arms".

Eight Fingers, as it was painstakingly noted, was a powerful criminal syndicate that ran the majority of all underground activity. Either they were involved in the vile acts of drug and slave trafficking themselves or gained a sizeable profit from it. With the drugs, their money came from the sale and distribution of "Black Dust". Most of the places that grew it were destroyed in the Wendigo assault on other villages

Slavery, on the other hand, had no real place in Re-Estize. It was outlawed in the nation through the efforts of Renner Theiere Chardelon Ryle Vaiself, the third princess. However, what made the practice of slavery so important was that it was still ongoing within the Baharuth Empire itself. So while the drug trade had faltered, slavery was still a booming industry.

"As you can most likely guess, Eight Fingers must fall within our control to make the most of our 'peace talks' with the target nations. We cannot go in and expect to make any definite progress without bringing them under heel. Preferably, we want them under our control rather than properly extinguished, so as to-"

"Wait, wait a second!" Touch Me shouted, his voice echoing. "We want to control the Eight Fingers? Why would you want to have anything to do with something so… so evil? Aren't we going to meet with Re-Estize leadership in good faith?"

Ancient One, collected as ever, offered a patient smile. "Of course. We will inevitably wrest control of operations from Eight Fingers, but it is foolish to simply dismantle the group when they have an established network that we can take advantage of for ourselves. It would certainly save us time and energy if we tried to do it ourselves."

"So you say, but just based on what I'm reading here, they have a list of crimes that trail off into another page here. Six Arms alone is responsible for… robbery, extortion of innocents, murder in all degrees, blackmail, intent to sell and distribute drugs, and more than I'd care to list off here."

"All of which is detestable, for certain. We as a guild do not condone anything of the sort. If it helps you feel better, my friend, then think of it as simply taking control of a cartel to ensure that it never harms anyone again. Under our management, we can direct its resources to much more morally sound expenditures."

"I understand that, but… It doesn't-"

Punitto Moe chose to chime in. "Look, they have their fingers in every single damn pie we can think of. That goes for both nations. Their little mercenary group too, while no threat to us physically, still has too much influence. We take them under our wing, and we bring stability back to Re-Estize and secure a foothold in the darker parts of the Baharuth Empire. Besides, they're bound to be hurting as well from the loss in revenue. Handling them will be a piece of cake."

Touch Me shook with conflict. He looked around at his guildmates and the NPCs, likely to garner some sympathy. Some, like Nubo and Connaisdiam, did. Others were growing impatient, muttering in their seats. After a moment, the paladin sighed and gestured for the two strategists to continue.

Ancient One nodded sympathetically. "I understand your concerns, Touch Me. They are dutifully noted. Now, back to our plan. We anticipate Re-Estize being the easier nation of the two to fully assimilate and bring to our alliance. Baharuth, as it stands, is far more secure in its economy and leadership. The emperor, one Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix, keeps an iron grip on his inner court. Instead of stability, we will need to appeal to his business sense."

"This is why the group that is heading to Arwinter, the empire's capital, will have a smaller subsection dedicated to learning all of the Empire's sources of income. We want to establish how they're supporting themselves and what they want. With the upcoming Annual War between the two nations, they will likely take whatever equipment they can get. We may even be able to offer ourselves as mercenaries."

"Furthermore, we will need to undermine their current sources of income to supplant them with our own. Nearata has been working on a front for a shell company that may sell our lower-end weaponry that Amanomahitotsu produced. The abyssal core in Gore ensures we have an ample supply of metal to work with, but that does bring us to another point I would like to address before we summarize everything we have gone over."

There was more muttering in the audience as the demonic seer reached into his inventory and pulled out an unassuming scroll. He unrolled it to show off that it was a scroll for the spell [Scry]. Quite a simple tier-four spell that someone like Nubo made extensive use of.

Seeing the scroll, those of Ainz Ooal Gown knew what was coming next. Most guildmates had not consumed the base's resources more than others. They took only what they needed unless it was a good which could be indulged in and replenished easily. Nazarick was no city guild base, but it still had an ample supply of supplies that naturally regenerated over time, such as the food in the Ninth Floor grocery stores, or sums of money not used to fuel the guild base traps.

Unfortunately, some materials did not fall under this rule. To replenish those stores, they would require outside supplies.

"The parchment which we use for our scrolls, while still plentiful, has seen a noticeable decrease. I remind you that while scrolls are convenient for saving on mana, we must not be wasteful. So as an added objective, I would like for those out in the field to be on the lookout for a good source of leather or parchment," Ancient One said.

"As he said, we still have a good supply, but it's better we look for some way to give back what we use," Punitto Moe said, "I'd rather we discover a good supplier of material now than later when what we need is much, much lower." Added Punitto Moe

"That was all we had on that end. To summarize this meeting, I would like to reiterate that this is a three-front mission. We will have one team that infiltrates Re-Estize, another for Baharuth, and a third that remains behind in Nazarick. Each team will have its set objectives on what must be accomplished and by what timetable. I trust you all appreciate the gravity of the task ahead and what it means for the future of this guild. Any questions so far?"

Immediately, a hand shot up from within the crowd. "Lord Ancient One, Lord Punitto Moe. If I may?"

"Certainly, Miss Albedo. What is on your mind?"

"What will team composition look like? Provided that it is unlikely we will run into World Enemies along the way, I imagine you have considered the strength of this world to be slightly higher than anticipated."

"You would be correct. The best way that I would describe it is like a raid party. Each raid party must adhere to a specific structure to be most successful, though we have made adjustments based on the specific needs of each team."

Demiurge, seated next to Ulbert, also raised his hand. "How will you be traveling to each country? While I do not doubt that you have a fleet of carriages at the ready, might it not be more convenient to consider other methods of travel that are less time-consuming?"

"That is what Amanomahitotsu has been working on," Punitto Moe answered, "We don't want to constantly use [Gate] unless it's for tactical insertion, and just using the carriages wastes a lot of precious time. Amano, if you would please."

The Mirelurk blacksmith excitedly dug around in his various pockets for what he was looking for. "Oh hell yeah! Man, this is so thrilling. I managed to dig these out of my old stash from the Eight Guild Invasion. A small "parting gift" from the guild, Legionary. Where did I- here we go!"

Having found what he was looking for, Amanomahitotsu thrust his hand into the sky. With so many in attendance, it was difficult to see. However, those sitting closest to him recognized what he held in the palm of his hand.

No larger than toys, three distinct warships were nestled in his chitinous palm. They were quite advanced looking, blending an art style that did not seem out of place in a sci-fi game, much like the mech suits from the "Valkyrie's Downfall" update in Yggdrasil. That particular update had been split into two parts, with the first bringing the race of Automatons, firearms, and artifact class mech-suits.

The second part brought admittedly grander changes, featuring customizable mechas that could be built from the ground up at any item level, and flying warships that could serve as mobile guild bases if one constructed them correctly. Amano held three such warships, retooled for Ainz Ooal Gown and shrunken down until deployment.

All in attendance stared gobsmacked at the miraculous treasures. Punitto Moe crossed his arms in amusement. "To put it more bluntly, Demiurge, we will be traveling in style. One warship will travel to Re-Estize, another will travel to Arwinter, and the third will be moored here in Nazarick."

With that simple declaration, the overall mood in the room soared to new heights. To think that their guild, for the first time in its history, would employ such methods to reveal themselves… It was exhilarating.

Punitto Moe cleared his throat. "With that in mind, the rest of you have homework. As soon as we get team assignments out to you guys, I expect all of you to start studying your respective countries. At least once a week we're gonna host study groups and trivia nights to make sure you're learning everything you can."

Exasperated groans broke out amongst the guildmates. Ancient One silenced them with a gesture of his hand. "Now, now. None of that. We cannot afford to slack in any endeavor regarding this operation. You must be all in academic shape for your objectives. I will not tolerate any of you disregarding this."

"Which also means any requests for outside time will be swiftly denied unless it is for ventures deemed related to either Operation: Zion or Project: Elysium."

Despite any opportunity for a small adventure outside the tomb being possibly denied, the mention of "Project: Elysium" quickly quieted the crowd. The Amnizu's ever-present smile widened.

"Ah, now I have your attention. For the team that remains at Nazarick, you will have a suitably stimulating mission. The NPCs, as well, will be a part of that team. All of them will be needed for the upcoming experiment we have planned."

Again, Albedo's hand shot up from the crowd. "But Lord Ancient One! Surely we would be better suited following our creators! With the risk of Nidhoggr and his minions coming after us once again, do you all not deserve the most protection possible?"

Surprisingly, Bellriver answered this time instead of either of the strategists. "No, I see the value of it. Beyond the obvious answer that our most powerful NPCs are Nazarick's floor guardians, we would need trustworthy people to handle the intricacies of actually building Elysium. Am I correct in assuming that?"

"Yeah… That's the gist of it," Punitto Moe admitted with a shrug. "Not to mention that it feels like we have neglected the NPCs a bit. All of you are loyal, almost to a fault, which makes you the perfect candidates to run Project: Elysium. Consider it our apology for not having been a greater part of our efforts. Besides, we need someone to keep the morons that stay here in check."

The players all chuckled at the lighthearted jab, while the NPCs offered uncertain smiles as they were unsure if they should laugh as well. With a snap of his fingers, the guild refocused on Ancient One.

"Those who remain behind for Project: Elysium, you will be in charge of completing the construction and moving in our chosen populace. So far, we have gained the people of Carne, the Spriggan Settlement, and the Knights of the Weeping King. The third group is, for the moment, on probation until Tsuareninya Veryon serves her sentence."

"We can't let them roam freely." Punitto Moe said, "So we're going to keep them close to home while we sort out the treasures we took out of their mountain vault. The Sunlight Scripture's new captain, Rowan, has agreed to be their sponsor."

Aura raised her hand now, as did Mare. "Does that mean we're going to have a bunch of humans running around in the Supreme Beings' city? And we get to watch over all of them? Can we make them do anything we want?"

"…I don't like the implication of that last statement, so I'll just say this: The NPCs will be in charge of managing the legislation of the project once it is fully constructed. During the time that the other two teams are off to their nations, the third team will be responsible for our charges, keeping them happy and healthy."

"Ca-Can I be in charge of watching over the Dryad-Born? Wi-will Lord Blue Planet allow me to do that? Please?" Mare asked timidly, wringing his hands.

Blue Planet looked surprised at being singled out like that. "Uh, yeah, sure. I don't see why not. I don't know if I'll be here in Nazarick for Project: Elysium, but we can work something out."

"Y-yay!"

"Then it is settled," Ancient One declared. "In just a few months, we shall be ready to march. This meeting is adjourned, everyone! This world is ours to rule!"

"This world is ours to rule!" The guild echoed back, parroting Momonga's previous statement. The Overlord rubbed the back of his neck with a bashful laugh. He would accept their indirect praise for the phrase's coining. Now, he had much more important things to worry about.

He just worried about how he'd fit in study time for the packet Ancient One and Punitto Moe prepared for them. There was so much to overlook! Could he feasibly read all those hundreds of pages in such a short period? What about his leadership studies?

Ah well, that would be another self-issue to address. He was content following through on his promise to Bukubukuchagama-

"Momonga? Are you well? You've been staring rather hard at the ceiling for the last few minutes. The bridge crew are becoming concerned."

The skeletal Overlord snapped out of his reminiscing. He jolted as if he'd been woken rudely from a nap. He brushed down his crinkled robes, looking at Touch Me on his left-hand side.

"It's nothing. Merely recalling the plan we have when we arrive at the Re-Estize capital. I trust that you are well prepared?" He asked.

"Of course. The flying carriage is ready in the landing bay. Once we're within range, we'll depart for the royal palace. Honor guard should be ready as well, as well as our team up here."

"Excellent. Make sure to check in on Tepas Smith's and Small Cuttlefish's status as well. Solution and Sebas are accompanying them while they covertly enter the city, but it never hurts to look after their wellness ourselves."

Touch Me nodded in agreement. "I get what you mean. Speaking of plans, you don't think we're going overboard, do you? The warship will be hovering in the clouds out of sight, but that whole detail about the eclipse… I'm not too certain about it."

"We do intend to use shock and awe tactics to gain the advantage. While we cannot account for everything, what we can control is how we arrive in the capital. They're among the lucky few who have some idea of our power," Momonga commented.

"Right. Still, I think we should keep to the disguises for now. I have spare amulets for the others and we can always cast illusion spells if need be. Don't want to frighten our potential allies too badly before we've secured the deal."

"I wouldn't concern yourself with that. I trust Ancient One and Punitto Moe's plans, and it helps to have the former in my ear as we go through negotiations."

Satisfied for now, Touch Me returned his attention to the bridge, watching as the crew of summons expertly maneuvered around each other. Momonga watched as well, while also appreciating the attention to detail that went into creating said area.

Amanomahitotsu had truly outdone himself. He worked overtime to replicate the overall atmosphere of the Throneroom of Nazarick, though with some changes due to the limitations in space. The dark lighting from the overheard magical lights contrasted with the bright crystal screens that managed the warship's internals.

The bridge was separated into an upper and lower deck. At each monitor was an automaton pilot in charge of their own set of subsystems within the warship. With each automaton were a couple of undead attendants to ferry documents and logistical data to the pilots. There were, in total, thirteen pilots at the helm, with a skeletal crew of twenty-six.

Momonga, as per tradition, occupied the captain's chair. It was modeled after the Throne of Kings. Touch Me took the place of where Albedo usually stood if it was the actual throne. He grimaced internally at the thought of her.

I need to make it up to her, leaving her behind. It almost felt like kicking a puppy when I told her she wouldn't be able to accompany me on this trip. She knew it was coming, but the hurt on her face almost broke my heart.

His team for the Re-Estize trip was as follows: Himself, Touch Me, Bukubukuchagama, Ancient One, Yamaiko, Luci*Fer, Ariel, Ra Ra Rasputin, Small Cuttlefish, Tepas Smith, Garnet, Brisingr, and Tabula. That left little room for an NPC like Albedo to tag along, especially one as important as her. She was vital to Project: Elysium, or so the guild's two strategists claimed.

The other two teams were formatted similarly. There was flexibility to swap in people as needed depending on what skills might be needed in each nation, but the team compositions were designed to be as formulaic as possible.

That meant that unless necessary, swap-outs were not recommended. Momonga agreed with this strategy. It was the most straightforward way to show off the guild's value to their prospective allies while also covering their various weaknesses.

None of them could rule out the possibility that Nidhoggr could strike again. He'd been alarmingly quiet for the last few months, so the guild was on its highest guard possible for anything suspicious.

With any luck, he would have realized his folly and banished himself to whatever hole he crawled out of. Somehow I doubt we're that lucky.

An automaton beeped excitedly, catching Momonga's attention. Glancing in its direction, he saw on the screen an overhead map of the area they flew over. The screen flashed orange, displaying a bird's eye view of the capital.

He rose from his seat. "Touch Me, it is time. Notify the others and prepare for descent. On this day do we rise from the shadows and into the light. Tabula will be thrilled to herald our arrival."

"Heh, a bit dramatic there. I'll be down in the landing bay to depart first. Have everything you need?"

"I would be a poor leader if I was ill-prepared. It's showtime."

Within the depths of his heart, he felt excitement spark at what came next, only to be quickly suppressed. There could be no mistakes for what came next. He owed it to his guild to do his best.

Meanwhile, the Royal Throneroom of Re-Estize

Gazef Stronoff, the Chief Warrior of Re-Estize, stood stone-cold by King Ramposa's side while the nobility angrily shouted at one another at the war table. It was nearly time for the next annual war with the Baharuth Empire, and normally state affairs were calmer in their procession. Arguments would spring up occasionally, but nothing beyond the usual sort.

Unfortunately, events over the last six months proved less than "usual" for the course.

"We are hopelessly undermanned for this war, gentlemen. There are no two ways to go about it. To even have a force of soldiers to draw upon at all is a miracle itself."

"So says the man hoping to formally surrender to our enemies! How much blood, sweat, and tears have we shed to delay this moment?! That we even have to entertain the idea is madness in itself, you burly traitor!"

"Traitor?! I am no damn traitor, not like Blumrush turned out to be! Maybe if you got your head out of your ass and helped to plan this damn war, we wouldn't be worrying about this gigantic mess!"

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, please! This is no time to let your passions fly out of control. The people are depending on us. With the loss of E-Rantel and now some of our farming villages, we cannot allow ourselves-"

"Dammit, where the hell do you expect more soldiers to come from? They're not going to just drop out of the sky! Gazef's failure to procure anything about the Sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown only inflames the situation!"

More angry shouting dominated the war table. Even cool heads like the Marquis Raevan were losing control. Gazef discreetly sighed at the jab against his prior mission. He looked to King Ramposa to gauge his reaction.

Every so often, the king's hands twitched. They were lying on the tabletop, trembling with an intense emotion he couldn't identify. Unlike recently, the King was unable to assert himself and regain authority in the matter. With the passions of both the Noble and Royal factions so high, it was nearly impossible to do so.

That was a small sort of pride Gazef held for his King and friend. His Highness was usually forced to bide his time, grasping at the crumbles that the Noble faction left behind in their grabs of power. The arrival of the Sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown and the events that followed him, afforded the king rare moments to exercise his expertise.

Sadly, those opportunities grew less by the day. The fall of E-Rantel was a disaster that sparked a powder keg waiting to explode. The loss of the peasant villages that they drew conscripts from simply compounded the issue, and taking on the survivors from the fortress city was pushing them to the limit.

The riots from the people do not help matters. My men are stretched thin just trying to maintain the peace. Pluton Ainzach's efforts hardly make a dent in the fury of the remaining adventurers, even with the backing of the other guild leaders.

That the capital hadn't buckled under the sheer weight of its hubris was a miracle. That any nobles hadn't defected to the Baharuth Empire after the outing of Blumrush was a miracle. That the people hadn't simply taken up arms and stormed the Royal Palace was a miracle.

There were so many miracles surrounding the fate of their kingdom that, quite frankly, they were due to run out any day now. Mishaps like the destruction of Carne, one of their only leads to the Sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown, did dampen the significance of their luck, but it was relatively minor in the grand scheme of things.

Even the fall of E-Rantel was a blessing in disguise. With the fortress city reduced to rubble, Baharuth had no incentive to march on Re-Estize. This was because whatever remained of the city became a literal cesspit of a brackish, corrosive poison.

Our scouts reported the only battalion sent from the Empire was quickly turned back by the sight of it. Fluder, strangely enough, was not among their number. He did not even come alone to inspect the pit himself.

The undead were only recently springing from the earth surrounding the pit. They took on the familiar zombified or skeletal forms, though with a disgusting sheen of the poison that made their bodies smoke.

"Ironic, isn't it, that this is the only time we seem to be united in our mutual disgruntlement of the situation? At the very least we can say that if we go down, it is together," remarked Marquis Raevan, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Easy for you to say. The surviving lesser nobles have flocked to the capital to curry favor anyhow," Marquis Boullope said, "There's one upstart in particular who has stoked the fires of rebellion, even if he wouldn't publicly admit it."

"Wasn't there a rumor that he was once a wizard of the Imperial Magic Academy? Though I suppose if it held any weight, he would not be a noble of our 'esteemed' nation. It buys him no favors to wriggle his way into the ever-growing cracks of our bureaucracy," commented Count Lytton.

None of the nobles were shouting anymore. That was a good sign that King Ramposa could reassert himself in the conversation before hotheads took charge again. His Highness cleared his throat.

"Cracks or no, we cannot deny that something good has been born of this chaos. Much of the criminal underbelly has seen activity die down, in large part thanks to the efforts of Princess Renner. My other children have also done their part to sow order within the kingdom, even as we bicker like children. Chief Warrior, was it not true you held the thought that Baharuth's inaction might be indicative of problems on their own?"

Gazef saw what his king was trying to do and smiled internally, grateful for the opportunity. "While the security of their nation is locked tight, I can say that some sort of internal struggle must be occurring. I highly doubt it is another purging of their nobility, but the scouts sent to watch over E-Rantel noticed no one else trying to pass by the remains of the city either."

"Yes, we read the report. The court mage, Fluder, hasn't even tried to take samples! Perhaps your attempt on the emperor's life in the previous annual war unsettled them more than we thought," Marquis Pespea hopefully added.

Marquis Boullope barked a laugh. "Right, and we have another Gazef Stronoff lying around somewhere. It is more likely they suffered a last-minute logistical struggle. Maybe one of their shipments for the war was late or got lost. All we can say for certain is that the temperamental nature of the Forest of Tob was not kind to their supply lines, not with that new 'Wise King of the Forest'."

"You mean that beastman from the first battle of E-Rantel? It seems strong enough to annihilate whatever encroaches on its territory. For all we know, it already subjugated the other strong monsters of the forest and simply enforced its borders."

"I do wonder how strong it must be. Perhaps not as powerful as we're thinking if that one adventuring team took it down. What were they called? The 'Argonauts' or something of that nature. Alongside the Swords of Darkness, I recall."

"If only they were around so that they could capture it again," Marquis Boullope stroked his mustache. "It owes a debt to that one young man. We could unleash it for the war and let it wreak havoc, at least until that damnable court wizard came out to fight it."

Count Lytton raised a hand to interject. "Speaking of magicians, I can only wonder how powerful that mage from the Sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown could be. You know him better than any of us, Chief Warrior. Would you say his strength is equal to Fluder?"

Gazef thought about that for a moment. "I am by no means an expert on the magical arts. From what I do remember, that mage displayed magic that could be of the sixth tier. He defeated the Sunlight Scripture's trump card in one blow, so he is undoubtedly stronger than it."

"How many soldiers would you estimate he could defeat before he was forced to withdraw?"

"If I am being truthful… Perhaps five-thousand or six-thousand foot soldiers. If he had Sir Sebastian with him, then he would undoubtedly be victorious. Sir Sebastian on his own could easily defeat Baharuth's army."

The mention of Sir Sebastian Tou-Chi soured Marquis Boullope. "Why bother thinking about that wanderer? It does us nothing by hypothetically comparing Fluder with the mage of Ainz Ooal Gown. It's been months since their disappearance! Carne Village was a dead-end, the Argonauts are gone in the wind, and we still have no means to ever entice them to join us."

"Forgive my wishful thinking then, Boullope," Count Lytton sneered, "Though I am loath to agree with you. I- huh, I did not realize it was so late in the day already. Or is it going to rain?"

The other nobles looked around, noticing a shadow had fallen over the entire room. Gazef raised an eyebrow, surprised he lost track of time as well. The expansive windows of the Throne Room offered much light to work with, so it could be quite easy to see when it got dark out.

He looked out the window, seeing that, indeed, a few clouds covered the sun. A drizzle began to fall, pelting the windows. Perhaps he might enjoy a walk once the meeting adjourned.

The sun… why does it keep darkening like that? Surely it is not that cloudy today. It's a drizzle, not a downpour.

But true to his thoughts, the sun blackened. It did so quickly that it was immediately apparent it was unnatural. He quickly averted his gaze, seeing confusion on the nobles' faces. A distant BOOM startled those present.

The doors to the throne room were thrown open, a panting guard rushing in. "My lords! Something is approaching from the sun! Guards outside are saying that dragons are flying towards the keep!"

Everyone flew into a full panic then. Gazef rested his hand on the sword he kept by his side, closing in on his king. "An attack?! Is it from the Baharuth Empire? Where in the world did they get dragons from?!"

"I don't know sir! They're surrounding a flying carriage with flaming horses! Flying straight towards the Royal Palace as we speak!"

What?

Another BOOM rattled the glass windows, accompanied by the bone-chilling roar of said dragons. There were shouts outside, the guards on duty racing to their posts to defend the palace. A massive shape flew past the windows, its shadow plunging the room into darkness as it passed.

Gazef's throat constricted momentarily. "They're already here. King Ramposa, follow me. I will escort you and the other nobles to safety. We may still have time to get out without harm."

His king's eyes, wide with fear, locked with his. "Yes, yes of course. On your leave!"

As the group stood frozen in the throne room, the doors suddenly burst open once again. The initial panic that had overtaken them dissipated, now replaced with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The nobility seemed to feel more of the latter, while Gazef and King Ramposa appeared to be more filled with a sense of pride and admiration as they watched the familiar figure walk confidently into the room.

"My apologies for interrupting your meeting," Sir Sebastian Tou-Chi said, his resplendent armor dazzling them. He was flanked by two other soldiers. "I would have arrived sooner but circumstances delayed my arrival. I hope my honor guard didn't frighten you all too much."

There was complete silence. The nobility of Re-Estize were struck with a mixture of fear and wonder. Only Marquis Raeven and Margrave Urovana dared to look the silver paladin in the eye, although they had to crane their necks to do so. Sir Sebastian was just as towering as Gazef remembered.

"As I promised, Chief Warrior Gazef, I have returned with my people to aid Re-Estize in their time of need. The others will be here shortly, but I did wish to introduce myself formally beforehand. I'm sure you've heard much about me from the esteemed Gazef Stronoff."

This snapped the nobility out of their haze. Marquis Boullope, as prideful as always, pulled himself up with a haughty demeanor. "We initially believed his reports to be… exaggerated. Yet in the flesh, we see his description of your stature was truthful. Yours and your honor guards' armor certainly adds a formidable heft."

The soldiers with Sir Sebastian wore bulky, tightly-sealed armor of interlocking plates. It completely covered their body, forged of a high-quality metal that Gazef felt could easily rival the Five Treasures of Re-Estize in their splendor. At the hip was a short sword with no guard, fit for stabbing rather than slashing. Across their back was a strange, box-like item that he did not immediately recognize. A pack of some kind?

Atop frightening skull-faced helmets were red plumes, and in the eyes was a precision-cut glass the same color as an undead's flaming sockets. The entire armor was colored in a combination of purple and black with trims of gold, and crimson mantles emblazoned with a curious sigil.

Their armor had a glossy sheen from the rain. If they arrived as quickly as they said they did, then they were caught in the drizzle right as it started.

Their armor is finely crafted, though not as fine as Sir Sebastian's. They could be nobles from the paladin's homeland or high-ranking officials. Yet he called them his 'honor guard'.

Sir Sebastian chuckled. "You're kind, sir, though that was not what I was referring to. I suppose, however, we should move past the formalities. I am here on behalf of my guild, Ainz Ooal Gown. My friends are coming up as we speak. I came down first to do proper introductions."

The paladin reached his hand into an invisible void, the nobles gasping in surprise. He pulled out a sealed scroll, a wax seal with the same symbol as the one on the soldiers' mantles. Sir Sebastian held up the scroll with an air of finality as if opening it would suddenly make him king.

"What I have here is a treaty of friendship between my group and that of the country of Re-Estize. Within it are set terms and conditions which are beneficial to both parties. There will be ample time to go over the details, but rest assured that what is written is in the best interest of both groups. Does this sound acceptable to you, King Ramposa?"

Curiously, Sir Sebastian said this with a colder tone. The Chief Warrior did not know the meaning of his shift in demeanor, though he guessed that the "treaty" held a significance they were not privy to. They would find out soon enough.

All eyes turned to His Highness. The king held his regal head high, smiling slightly at the silver paladin. "Of course, Sir Sebastian. If I may be so bold, but your timing could not be more impeccable. We would be honored to enter into negotiations. You said your associates are on their way up?"

"That's right. If you look out the window, you can see their carriage. Why not take a look for yourself?"

The nobles moved with barely concealed curiosity. Gazef and his king did as well, watching over the expansive courtyard. Their eyes widened at what they saw, for it was the very picture of wealth and magical prowess that one could expect from the Sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown.

Upon the cobblestone sat a sleek, luxurious carriage of gold, burgundy filigree adorning the intricate designs that filled the sides. A silk curtain covered the door, as well as mahogany, both of which had been opened. At the front of the carriage was, just as the guards said, a team of fiery horses, smoky manes billowing up into the cloudy, eclipsed sky. Where they pawed with their hooves, streaks of sparks flew up.

Stationed around the carriage was both the most horrifying and strangest honor guard any of them had the fortune of laying eyes upon. Taking up the majority of the courtyard were a pair of four-legged, winged dragons with antler-like horns and lime-green scales. Each was as tall as a sentry tower, with furled wings that could easily cover the entire courtyard if fully open.

They bared their teeth, sword-long and likely sharper, at the pitifully shaking guards that surrounded them. Neither side made a move to attack, thankfully. The smaller units of the honor guard were, presumably, golems of shining metal, four in total. They were blue, red, green, and yellow, with odd metal barrels on their soldiers and wielding what looked to be massive hand cannons in their grip.

"Flaming horses… Not even Sleiphnir but actual magical, elemental horses. A pair of actual dragons and golems of all things! Just what sort of magic does that mage have?" Margrave Urovana wondered.

"The carriage too. It looks carved out of pure gold! The filigree and the wood itself must have cost a fortune. Could you even imagine what the inside is like?" Count Lytton said.

Marquis Raeven hummed in thought. "Sir Sebastian, satisfy my curiosity for a moment. What rank do you hold among your friends? Are you a noble yourself? A general of some kind? I find it hard to believe you could be some sort of mercenary hired by the Sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown."

"It is a good question to ask," Sir Sebastian said patiently. "Without getting into too many specifics, you could say I am similar to Gazef Stronoff here. I am a Chief Warrior in my own right."

A flurry of murmurs erupted among the Six Great Nobles. Gazef and King Ramposa shared a surprised glance. Sir Sebastian was a Chief Warrior as well? That meant he was easily among the strongest warriors of his class hailing from whatever country the Sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown came from. A rank like that, while fitting, also seemed woefully incapable of fully describing the silver paladin's capabilities in full.

If Sir Sebastian is the Chief Warrior of his people, then I wonder who the Court Mage could be.

One of the soldiers accompanying Sir Sebastian tugged on his cape. The tall warrior leaned down, the soldier whispering something in his ear. Sir Sebastian nodded and stood up straight.

"King Ramposa, Gazef Stronoff, nobility of Re-Estize. I have the great honor of introducing my friends and colleagues, the guildmates of Ainz Ooal Gown."

Tearing their gaze away from the window, Gazef heard a distinct clinking coming from the direction of the courtroom doors. What came next was an entourage of jaw-dropping characteristics, worthy of the honor guard that accompanied them on this trip.

The first to come through was the mage of Ainz Ooal Gown, his familiar mask, and gauntlets singling him out amongst the group of lively individuals. His purple robes and massive pauldrons were always eye-catchers, and his golden staff was a veritable sigil of his office, no doubt.

Behind him was a smiling, robust gentleman, dressed in a tasteful lavender suit with a monocle and combed-over hair. His rotund stomach jutted mightily, stretching the fabric to disbelievable lengths. Opulent jewelry covered his neck and fingers, displaying a collection of dazzling rubies and sapphires. In his hands was a golden cane, carved into the shape of a hooded serpent with emeralds in the sockets.

On the mage's left was a petite but mature woman in a black and red sequin dress. It had an attached skirt with frilly edges, but with plates of armor around the mid-waist that slightly covered an ink-black corset. A ribbon of the same color sat on her modest bust, and there were two shields strapped to her back. Her golden eyes held a mischievous sparkle to them. Her shoulder-length hair bobbed as she excitedly waved to those present.

There were more following the trio, but Gazef felt those leading were obviously the leaders. The mage in particular held a special importance with how the woman kept glancing at him. His defender perhaps? Though the glances she snuck hinted there was something deeper there than let on.

One of them was the other knight who accompanied the mage in Carne, the one with the shield. On his back was a long broadsword. It must have been magical as well, for it hovered in its scabbard. Garnet was his name, he remembered, and he waved to Gazef as he walked in.

The mage walked directly up to King Ramposa. "Your Highness, it is so good to finally meet in the flesh like this. I am Momonga of Ainz Ooal Gown, and I represent this motley band behind me. I trust that Sir Sebastian has said only good things about us?"

It was said in a warm, almost fatherly tone. An air of regal authority that overpowered King Ramposa's filled the room. Gazef, had he been any other man, might have knelt in the face of such a figure. Where was this the first time that they met?

King Ramposa himself was starstruck but responded in kind. "I-Of course. Truly, you are extraordinary to have a Chief Warrior like Sir Sebastian in your retinue. You are the king of your people? You have lavish tastes in both your outfits and means of transport."

"Oh? We appreciate the sentiment, though it is of no concern to us. Rather, what we are here is to discuss the needs of you and your people. Sir Sebastian has shown you the scroll?"

"He has. He mentioned that he wanted to wait until all of you were here before it was opened. It is some form of treaty?"

"That would be correct. It was written by my associate, Mr. Junichiro, here. He is one of my primary advisors. I highly value his expertise and skills, and anything that he may say throughout negotiations, you may take as being from my mouth as well."

The rotund gentleman stepped forward, bowing his head. "A pleasure! Truly, I feel as if we may get along famously. There is much ground to cover, and not enough time. There wouldn't happen to be a… bigger table, perhaps? All this walking has gotten me a bit more exercise than I hoped today!"

The joke at his own expense did elicit a few chuckles from the nobility. There was still a nervous atmosphere from the Re-Estize leadership though. King Ramposa gestured to some guards who idly watched from the court-room doors. They scrambled to find a larger table that could comfortably house all of Ainz Ooal Gown. Though they might need some reinforced chairs as well.

Seriously, what sort of magic do they practice in their home country? How are they all so gigantic?

Either way, he knew that negotiations for the future of his country would be an arduous but, hopefully, profitable affair. He only hoped that it was not too late to save them all.

Or that his people were not walking headfirst into the dragon's den.

Elsewhere, the Forone Estate

Raksus Obek Forone, heir of the Forone Fortune and secret executive of the Zuranon Cult, was looking out the panoramic window of his office. A large desk of cherry wood took up a sizable portion of the space. Along one wall was an expensive bookshelf, filled to the brim with notes of his research and personal reading material.

Among other offices he'd seen in similar estates, it was rather modest. More of a meeting place where he'd greet guests or admonish workers for failures. It was hardly a speck compared to where he worked, in the laboratories below his home. That place was hardly acceptable to greet others, not to mention he was contemplating the most recent addition to his work that was sitting on the desk itself.

He admired how the peasantry of his lands worked together in their fields, harvesting the crops that his merchants would sell to secure his family's wealth.

Across the verdant fields, row upon row of cotton was harvested by hand. His workers talked pleasantly amongst one another. They smiled and waved to one another, even to him as a few walked past the manor of his estate. They were well taken care of. They were well-fed and dressed, treated with compassion by his overseers. Those under his lordship viewed him as a benevolent, witty old man.

He despised every single one of them.

The flesh of the living is a weak thing. Despite my efforts and my magic, they tire every single day. They must rest at night, consume mountains of food to fuel themselves, and have constant stimulation to maintain morale. Could it be any better than taking care of cattle?

No, he supposed. Cattle at least had the good sense not to struggle too much when slaughtered. Those he kept on his estate grounds to upkeep his home would undoubtedly fight if they knew who he was. They would gnash their teeth and beat their fists against him if they knew what sort of beliefs he held, how he plotted to one day replace all of them with the undead.

Soon. It would happen soon enough. His most recent meeting with the other members of Zuranon provided good omens for the future. The head executive himself outright claimed that the Great One's plans were already in motion. That the world would be swept away in a black tide of undeath, and that the faithful would secure their place as the new gods of that virulent utopia.

"Lord Forone, Sirs Mathias and Eloi are here to see you. May I let them in?"

"Hmm? Yes, of course. Go on then," he said absentmindedly, never turning away from the window. The servant girl, no doubt, smiled at him and bowed. He did not see it, but he heard her footsteps recede as two new pairs paraded into his private office.

He finally turned, gazing upon two men in amber traveling cloaks. Their hoods were lowered, revealing heads of straw and piercing cyan eyes. Their round faces made them look younger than they appeared, but the deadly intelligence in their eyes was far beyond adolescent boys.

"The twin prodigies, Mathias and Eloi Deln Walker. I trust your journey to the estate was a safe one?" he said with a rare warmth.

"Of course, Executive Raksus. The route you provided was, as expected, rather secure," replied Mathias.

Eloi nodded in agreement. "We came as fast as we could. Though, we must admit, we took a detour to admire the beauty of Executive Khajit's work."

"It was a thing of art, a pit of succulent death! Only one as driven as he could create such a magnificent view."

"We hope you will forgive us for the delayed arrival."

Raksus was already waving aside their apologies. "There is no need. Delay or not, you arrived within an acceptable time frame. As my acolytes, I do expect you to uphold better standards for yourselves. You will not make the same mistake."

"Understood, Executive Raksus. Why have you summoned us here? Have you a new plot given recent events?"

The old man's eyes flickered to the desk, studying the sharp object that rested on it. There was a pregnant pause before he answered.

"The Great One has given me new orders. There is a ritual to be conducted in the Re-Estize Capital. I am to be head of it in its conduction and will be departing shortly. I do need to get some of my affairs in order since it is likely I will not be returning here after all is said and done."

The twins looked at him in surprise. The cogs in their heads turned, trying to make sense of the new information they were given. He figured that they might be thinking they would be put in charge of his estate once he left. It had existed in his family for generations and was an important research lab for the other executives when they happened to be in the area. As his acolytes, one would become his successor and take on the family name, while the other would become his successor's advisor.

It had been this way for Zuranon's higher-ups for centuries. He already had a successor in mind.

"Will this ritual involve the blade on your desk? We know of no ritual which requires a sword," Mathias commented.

"Can you not see, brother? It resembles one of the demon blades that accursed Lakyus wields. An artifact of the Great One, no doubt," Eloi said with pride for his teacher.

Again, Raksus's attention was drawn to the blade. It pulsed hungrily when directly addressed, startling his two acolytes. He ran his thumb across the edge of the long blade, watching as his skin split open. Rather than bleed, the blade greedily drank up his life essence.

"You would be correct, Eloi. Always observant you were, a trait I deeply admire. Its name is Dark Drinker, and it was given to me specifically for the upcoming ritual. The power within it is vast," Raksus dryly praised.

The weapon in question was a hideous sword, made of a black metal that the Great One called "Stygian Iron". The handle was constructed of this material, as was the pommel. Protruding above the hilt were claw-like hooks that became smaller the closer to the actual blade they were. Within the center was a fist-sized, blood-red gem as smooth as an egg.

The blade's core was a dark crimson, icy blue near the razor-sharp tip. It radiated a malevolence that shook Raksus to his very being, making his skin crawl in a way that not even the undead did. It had witnessed countless atrocities in its lifetime. It would witness one more.

"I was told it had been reforged after a mighty battle with the Demon-God King, Fabris," Raksus said, trying to still the tremble in his voice. "Incredible demonic power lies within this weapon. Power that would make the gods tremble."

"Ah, so it is to be the catalyst for your ritual," Mathias said, "My knowledge in this field is still a bit adept, but if you're going to complete a death spiral in the capital of Re-Estize, then what better than a demon blade? The Great One has blessed you truly!"

"…Yes, you could say that."

"Are you alright, Executive Raksus? You look rather pale right now. Thinking of Executive Khajit again?"

Raksus reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He dabbed his forehead, mentally preparing himself. Though now that Mathias mentioned it, his thoughts did turn to the wizened necromancer.

Among all of the executives, Khajit was possibly his only real friend. Had been, at least. They'd shared knowledge, dreams, and a kinship that no other executive could touch. They were brothers of the occult. Amongst the dead, their bond was a living testament to their will to ascend.

Except he's gone now. The Great One's mortal enemies took him from me, the man who gave me refuge after I fled from the Imperial Academy. Men of humble backgrounds.

"We all must make sacrifices in the name of our aspirations. Khajit achieved his, and I shall honor the sacrifice he made to get there," Raksus said quietly.

"And we will help you, Executive. Whatever you need, we shall give it to you. We will not rest until your friend is avenged!" Eloi declared, Mathias enthusiastically agreeing.

"The bell tolls for us all!" the other twin passionately said.

Hearing their promises, and seeing the adoration that both twins held for him, Raksus could not help but smile sadly. It was an unspoken rule that an executive not grow attached to their acolytes, not until they were sure that they were ready to succeed their teacher.

Acolytes had an unfortunate habit of dying regularly, whether as mishaps of their experiments, or unwitting prey for the undead they sought to control. The survival rate for acolytes was less than thirty percent unless they were true prodigies.

"You both are like sons like me. That is why I shall make you privy to the first step of the ritual the Great One provided me," Raksus decided.

Both twins leaned forward eagerly, ready to absorb the details. Raksus smiled once more, a single tear tracing down his cheek. He rested his left hand on Dark Drinker's gem in the pommel.

"First, the blade must drink deeply of the blood of the beloved. It is the only way to fully unleash its true potential."

Mathias stared at him in bewilderment. Eloi's eyes widened in horror. It was too late for either of them by that point.

Tendrils of shadow shot out from the sword's edge, violently streaking toward the twins faster than they could blink. The tendrils invaded every open orifice, choking the boys with malicious intent. They tried in vain to grab the tendrils, to tear them away to save themselves.

Their bodies bulged obscenely, the cloaks stretching over their bloated stomachs as their skin brightened to an angry red. They gurgled desperately, perhaps pleading for mercy or throwing curses at him. It hardly mattered.

With a wet POP, their bodies exploded. The blood of two grown men hovered in the air, trapped in a cage of shadowy tendrils. Rivers of blood snaked along the tendrils and directly into the sword's edge. It hissed with a satisfied sigh, a reptilian pupil appearing in the pommel's gem. It glared hungrily at Raksus.

He brushed the flat of the blade with the back of his hand. "Mathias and Eloi Deln Walker, I shall avenge the both of you as well. You will not have died for nothing. Another successor has already been chosen to help me. I need only travel to the capital to gather him."

Then he looked back out the window, ignoring the sword for now. "Eight Fingers and Six Arms owe me a favor, and I intend to collect upon it. Ainz Ooal Gown shall pay for what they have taken from me!"

Hello dear readers,

Wow! It's been a while huh? I thought about posting this chapter on New Year's, but decided to save it for today as it is my birthday! I figured the best gift I could receive was the joy you'd all have at having a brand new chapter to herald in 2024. Things are still progressing smoothly on my end, but shall ramp up once more in preparation for my final semester of college.

As always, I'd like to thank my personal beta team in the Library of Ashurbanipal server for helping to make this work the best quality possible. I'd also like to thank you, dear readers, for staying with me as long as you have for this story. I will try and update the story on Ao3 so that it is caught up with this one if you prefer to read ATOG over there. Here is to 2024!

Until you collect the other eight!