Breeding Issues

by The Ruff Pusher

Momon the Dark Hero encounters Zesshi Zetsumei. mature content/smut

13. Chapter 13

This story uses the same setting as my other story "Momon, Big Black Changeling". Essentially, Ainz Ooal Gown is the same type of creature as in that story, although this and that story happen in different worlds.

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Things had gone worse for the small town of Dakaru ever since the Re-Estize Kingdom had lost E-Rantel. The nearby city had been a major nexus of trade for the surrounding territories, of which they were a part. Roughly a quarter of the business coming into and out of that city used to pass through Dakaru. Their small town featured many inns and taverns that whetted the appetites of merchants, travelers or adventurers going towards E-Rantel, and those passing the other way. News, goods, and people made their regular passes through the town, and ensured its prosperity. The mayor and those who had lived there for the longest time had expected this prosperity to continue unabated, as long as E-Rantel stood.

Yet ever since that disastrous war, maps had been redrawn and a new border had unfortunately been made. The result of the peace was that it had neatly cut off Dakaru from its main source of revenue, the nearby city of E-Rantel. That city had become part of foreign land, which meant that the normal flow of trade dried up almost immediately.

Overnight it had become a dead-end town right out on the outskirts, surrounded by craggy, untillable hills while sharing a border with a Kingdom that was ruled by the undead. And if that undead had a mind to invade the Re-Estize Kingdom properly, then this town would surely be the first to be ravaged by fell beasts, being the nearest town right next to the border.

In the weeks that passed since the official handover, many of Dakaru's business owners foresaw the inevitable and immediately sold their businesses off; before quickly making an exit back to the Capital or wherever they could find some new source of profit. The only ones who stayed were those whose family had long lived in Dakaru—stubborn and adamant on staying where they had long taken root. Unfortunately, it would soon become clear that Dakaru could not support itself for long—it depended on outside commerce to function as a town. They would all soon experience what that meant in the months to come.

The months that followed saw events occurring in the wider Kingdom that seemed like a reflection of the town's downward trend into obscurity and insignificance. There were rumors of scandalous rebellion, of armies rising to treacherous banners. In their wake came news of a marked increase in bandit sightings all over the land. Traveling merchants who had taken pity on Dakaru and made sure to take a detour to the town wrote them off entirely. The last of the kind ones cited the dual fears of a Sorcerous Kingdom incursion and being waylaid by bandits and ne'er-do-wells in this remote town.

The mayor was forced to petition the ruling lord who nominally ruled the land, for succor, and if possible, some direction on how they should proceed.

There was no reply. The noble had been recalled to the Capital City, and any letters addressed to his manse had been ignored by the local stewards for whatever innocent (or nefarious) reason.

Without any support and without any means for them to get food or other necessities, the situation quickly became untenable. Hunger became a very real thing as their stores were quickly running out. The mayor was on the verge of abandoning the town and calling for a general exodus, when a few shady-looking individuals came knocking one night. They asked for an audience with the mayor and there laid out their intentions.

Surprisingly, they introduced themselves smugglers, in a most forthright manner.

"My dear mayor, not only do we intend to pay for the night, we also wish to pay for the right to establish a little home away from home right here in town," they told him.

Naturally the mayor was initially hesitant, as he had heard tales of the Eight Fingers who ruled the Kingdom from the shadows. There had been tales of the organization taking control over entire territories. He was worried that these were representatives from that same organization, here to turn Dakaru into a hub for their criminal schemes, as had been done to many other such towns before. No one ever spoke out about it, even knowing full well that this or that town was under that organization's iron thumb—the Fingers had spies everywhere, and controlled nobles who also employed their own spies.

"Have no fear," he was told. "We do not belong to that odious group, even if some of our methods are the same. But we are an entirely independent operation. We are 'honest' smugglers, sir, and our activities hurt no one in the least."

They further expounded on the type of "activities" of which they were involved. They spoke rather like merchants attempting to sell some new fashion or trinket in E-Rantel, hoping to turn it into a fad. The mayor had seen many such hopefuls pass through Dakaru before, and only a few had ever seen success.

"Our main business is the buying and selling of 'trinkets' from the Sorcerous Kingdom," one said.

"In the wake of the 'esteemed' Ainz Ooal Gown's annexation of E-Rantel, we'd observed a steady increase in the demand for any small knickknack one might find from within that mysterious kingdom," another said. "Magical mummeries that impress, or fabulous fobs featuring fantastical flairs. There've also been a few hope to find some sort of equivalent to what the Sorcerer King did in E-Rantel."

"There's no such thing," said another. "Yet."

"Whichever the case and for whatever their reasons, there is a demand, and we are happy to feed it," the smuggler continued. "And that's not the only thing. Take these dwarf crafts for example. I don't know what's happened, but they've been popping up all over E-Rantel now, and they're all cheap." The smuggler presented some sort of bracelet, upon which was stamped some sort of dwarf script, glowing with unnatural light. "Cheaper than expected of dwarf-made goods."

Another smuggler cackled. "But the rest of the world don't have access to it. The Sorcerous Kingdom's keeping a limit on the number on exports, or so we've seen."

"We haven't seen it in the markets of Arwintar."

"And there's our in," said another smuggler. "We can sell it. We buy a whole lot on the cheap, smuggle it out of E-Rantel, and then sell it for a tremendous profit."

"Everyone wins."

"Especially us."

"We've got some demihuman goodies too. Personally hand-crafted by those creatures the Sorcerer-King saved from the war with the Holy Kingdom. This is perhaps their savage way of paying for their stay in the city, which suits us just fine. They still make for good sales."

But it seemed material objects were not the only things they could smuggle. The smugglers had admitted surprise that there had not been groups of people fleeing E-Rantel once the city had fallen under the undead lord's aegis. While there had been rumors of a mass exodus, even an armed uprising, those had never materialized. Their group had been one of many who had been fully prepared to act as escorts or bodyguards for enterprising magnates who had that same idea. Unfortunately for their ambitions, nothing of the sort happened. All of the city's inhabitants were content to stay in the city, and were willing, even grudgingly, to become the Sorcerer-King's new citizens.

"Perhaps they've already been thralled? Perhaps they have submitted to such evil depravity already."

As time passed, not only were their expectations overturned just the once. They were overturned a second time, as E-Rantel slowly gained the reputation of a safe haven. It was true especially for those who were fleeing the chaos and persecution currently gripping the Re-Estize Kingdom. Roving bandit armies burned entire towns, and nobles of all ranks rising in rebellion against the Crown—it was all around a raw deal for the average citizen who was just caught in the middle

Indeed, they had already seen merchants deserting the Kingdom for such far-of places as the City-State Alliance. Some brave ones made for the Baharuth Empire, trusting that Jircniv had not completely allowed his nation to be consumed by the Sorcerer-King.

"And then we got some suicidal blokes who wanted to walk into the maws of oblivion. Not only did they want to get into the city, they were willing to pay for it."

The smugglers saw this opportunity, and had quickly jumped on it. No matter their reasoning, they promised to ease their passage across the border and into the city itself by a proper imbursement of coin.

"Getting over the border's the easy part," one of them explained, after guzzling down a full tankard of beer. They had spoken for so long that the day had already made way for night. The mayor had reluctantly ordered for food and refreshments for his "guests". "You'd be surprised how the Sorcerer-King hasn't put any eyes on his borders. Nothing at all. You can just walk over the border, and as long as there's no one in sight, you'll be sure you haven't at all been marked. It's that simple.

"But E-Rantel's a different thing. Nigh impenetrable now, so it is. There are dozens of inhuman guards you've probably never seen before. And there are other things than guards lurking on the walls… Brings a shiver to a man's soul. But enough of that. During the day the gates open, and usually there's a host of really imposing guards. Sometimes it's some creature from Abelion, other times it's a group of undead things, led by a lich. But really, any prospective traveler can just walk up and demand entrance into the city.

"That's all well and good if you're a citizen. You show the guard in charge your papers, and you'll be let in, no fuss. But for thems who come in wanting to be a part of the city, the Sorcerer-King's got some weird system set up.

"See, they built some large building, right outside the city walls. These people, they get called 'applicants' and they need to fill out some paperwork, get into interviews… There's a whole process to it, and it's damned complicated most times. People get to wait for up to a week outside the walls, sleeping on small beds and eating simple food. It's fine food, I grant. But you don't get to just live on it for long.

"Because while most of the blokes who become applicants get to finally live in E-Rantel like they wanted, there's a small few that gets refused entrance. And if you're refused entrance, you're generally 'encouraged' to leave the Sorcerous Kingdom as fast as your legs can take you. As far as we know, there's no appeal, no second chances. When you're out, you're out.

"No one really knows how you get accepted, or what they gotta look for to reject you. But our business doesn't deal with that. Our business is in the efficient application of the loophole."

"Loophole?" the mayor asked.

The smugglers all grinned.

"It's because of this, friend. The Sorcerer King, in his great wisdom and majesty, has graciously allowed those citizens in the city to vouch for anyone wishing to enter. They may be family, friends, or someone who has merely aroused sympathy. In our case, it might be someone who has pockets filled with gold, and who is more than willing to unburden themselves for the sake of… charity. And so, some enterprising folks got it in their minds to make a business of it. They'd swear up and down that this traveler is a friend from long past, with an understanding that they would be generous in giving gifts once they'd entered the city itself. It's a win-win, and we were just in the right position to exploit it."

"I see." The mayor was starting to understand. "And that's you…?"

"Yes mayor, there's a smart fellow. We are indeed citizens of E-Rantel, come to turn a profit in these uncertain times. You'll forgive us for being long-winded, but we did so want to convince you.

"Our unique position allows us to vouch for people who wished to enter E-Rantel for whatever personal reason. They get to skip the long line, the equally long process, while guaranteeing the certainty of being accepted inside. Let us just add that we have already assisted in ten such cases already, and none of them have made any report of complaint for mishandling or abuse. They were able to arrive safe and sound, and we were thus duly compensated for our work."

Apparently now the smugglers were looking to expand their operation to encompass a larger area. They had largely operated near Dakaru, having avoided the main roads and sticking to the old, hidden highways that brigands and their ilk liked to use.

"Our first choice, then, was clear. We're all old enough to remember when Dakaru was the byword for the 'first and last stop' outside E-Rantel, and here we wish to make that phrase true once more. Look, mayor, we know you're basically on your last legs. You want a fresh infusion of resources to keep the town running. Well, as it happens, we're ourselves invested in making that happen. As it is, we now realize we actually need some semblance of a headquarters outside our normal home of E-Rantel. A place where we can plan freely far from the prying eyes of the Sorcerer-King or his lackeys."

"So you're going to turn Dakaru… into a smuggler's den." The mayor's voice was flat, but resigned.

"You make it sound so distasteful," was the reply. "Rest assured, this arrangement will help revitalize commerce in your town, while we reap the dividends of the expanded route we can cover from here. Folk who wish to use our services will be urged to stay at Dakaru for a spell, where they can direct some of their gold your way in exchange for the hospitality your town is able to offer.

"There were other towns we wanted to choose, but they were too far or were too near to Katze to even be considered a choice."

They continued to ply the mayor with flattery: telling him that Dakaru should be expected to become a prime hub for smugglers from that point onward thanks to the reasons they just presented. They were not the only enterprising group in E-Rantel who sought to leverage their positions for profit. They would also point the others here, funneling some much-needed commerce in Dakaru's direction. United, they would be able to make more of a difference.

They would also provide food and other necessities for the townspeople, as they recognized their difficulties in acquiring supplies. In exchange, the town would hide the smugglers' existence from any of the authorities who might come in snooping, and of course they were to be given free food and board when they chanced to be in town.

"Maybe we can be given some special compensation for being the one group to approach you first?" a smuggler said jokingly.

Despite his misgivings, the mayor had no choice but to accept. He didn't need these smugglers to remind him that he had long ago run out of options. He had to do well for his people, and he would face the consequences if and when they came.

It didn't take long for the smugglers to start setting up shop. A number of other groups also started trickling in, "paying" for their stay by bringing supplies the town desperately needed to survive. In a few months Dakaru seemed to have regained its vitality, as of a man who had overcome an illness.

And yet, he was not completely whole. The townspeople still entertained a lot of tension, as the smugglers brought rumors of an impending war with the Holy Kingdom from the outside.

Later, even when they heard that a war had been declared, nothing much changed in their small town. The lord had not replied with a letter, nor had he sent any men to have a look at the town. Aside from the smugglers, everything appeared to be the same; and life continued as if there had been no interruptions. The rumors of a great conflict and struggle were so distant that they were as an ill breeze blowing through the windows, simply eased by closing the door and enjoying a pale of drink by the hearth.

Everything then changed just a few days ago. Riders had been spotted arriving by the road, and the whole town received them nervously. They had spoken to the mayor in his house, and after a long, tense hour the riders had left to some other place. When the smugglers pressed him for details, they were informed that the town was expected to house some men—soldiers—for the next week or so. The orders came directly from the King, presented to the mayor through a document with His official seal. There had been no other details, just that the town should be prepared. Entire households were expected to billet groups of soldiers at once.

As such, the smugglers promptly left before the next sunrise, presumably scattering to whatever other refuge they kept around. If they'd stayed, questions would be asked and it would be awkward to answer them with even half the truth. They'd left just in time; as the first group of soldiers came riding in at noon the very next day. And then they kept coming, over the next few days, occupying the town's buildings like it was their own personal barracks. Thankfully, they brought their own supplies, which meant the town did not need to feed them.

But the gradual build-up of soldiers kept the whole town speculating. What use could these men be headquartered here, if they did not have some pressing purpose? They feared to ask the soldiers—feared that the answer would be something that would fill them with dread.

Would these soldiers be used to attack the Sorcerous Kingdom that was just a few miles away?

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Not a lot of things had gone according to plan. They had not been able to acquire the exact number of people they had wanted for this operation. Still, they could not have done anything about it.

Since the King had officially "sanctioned" this operation there had been a number of developments along the main battle front against the Holy Kingdom. Most significant was the Battle of Glovis, after the town of Glovis where they had managed to eke out a victory.

Some overzealous nobles had gotten it in their head that they would be able to achieve some sort of heroic triumph by leading their groups down south to attempt raiding parties on the Holy Kingdom flank. Unfortunately, the fools lacked tactical minds as well as basic wits, as they had blundered completely into several heavily armed camps, which promptly routed their little expeditions. The Holy Kingdom had pursued them north, forcing Pespea to commit the army in an effort to ward them off—or at least to secure some victory by taking advantage of the terrain.

It had been a "victory" of sorts. Roble's armies had been forced to withdraw southwards, and they had been able to secure a few towns along that path, including Glovis, where the Holy Kingdom had been forced to retreat. Unfortunately, there had still been a lot of casualties, which lessened their strength. Further, Pespea had ordered the towns to be garrisoned, over the Crown Prince's protests.

With the casualties and the garrison—along with the ever-present need to maintain a strong host protecting the capital, fewer soldiers were able to be reassigned to work on the secret operation. Everyone realized the significance of a weakened flanking force: would it even be effective in the pincer attack? Still, the others were convinced that their recent victory had appropriately demoralized the Holy Kingdom, and some were even expecting to see a general exodus of their armies back west towards their own lands.

Prince Zanac wasn't so sure about that.

Because of these realities, Zanac was forced to take control over the operation himself. Many had questioned the wisdom in what they perceived as an overly hasty decision, as he would be greatly risking his life. But he was adamant to prove himself, while also ensuring he could oversee the details of the operation personally without relying on a commander of questionable worth.

He did acknowledge that he was also no great military mind, but that was why he had brought several promising nobles as his adjutants—he would oversee the general progress of the operation while they would take care of the tactical minutiae. It was a novel arrangement that he felt immensely proud of thinking up.

Now they were currently set up in some remote town on the far outskirts of the Empire. He had been told that the town used to be an important resting point for trade being funneled east towards E-Rantel, but ever since their humiliating loss to that undead king, the town had instead become one of the few that stood the closest to the border, and therefore had become the prime candidate to use as a forward base for their operation.

"Sir, the final numbers are in." An adjutant presently handed him a piece of parchment.

Zanac's gaze zoomed towards the final tally at the bottom. "Not bad." His eyes flickered back up towards the details, scanning for information. "It appears that there are several houses here who'd reneged on their promises. Have they offered any explanation?"

"None, my prince. They send their apologies."

Zanac sighed and shook his head. Because of its intended purpose, the operation was stricter in recruiting its participants. One either had to be a nobleman with some wartime experience, or a commoner with extensive battle experience. Naturally, the latter group usually served as retainers for high-ranking nobles, such as in the case of the dearly departed Warrior-Captain Gazef Stronoff. This meant that it was entirely possible for nobles to restrict them from being used by the operation if they wished them to be closer at hand.

Under normal circumstances, Zanac would have reported these nobles to his father, who would censure the noble in question for blatantly ignoring the marshal's orders and for being—for lack of a better word—completely disloyal. And maybe he would have report them later on, if the operation was successful.

But he could not delay a moment longer. Especially not when the mustering process itself had already been delayed by many days. It had been expected that the handpicked soldiers would arrive at a certain date at the border town of Dakaru. Fearing enemy surveillance catching on to their maneuvering, they had to order the troops to move in piecemeal fashion, arriving at the town in small groups sequentially. The Prince himself had to ride in a nondescript wagon in what was ostensibly a merchant's caravan, to ensure that the subterfuge was preserved.

Because of that, they had completely missed the date that they were expected to launch the operation, having been delayed now by two days. Zanac was forced to spend much of the time instead gathering information through their specialized Message network, where he had to grapple with such issues as the aforementioned absentee soldiers and the aftermath of the battle of Glovis. There were also other details that had to be seen to, and as the self-made leader of the expedition, it fell on him to organize and oversee everything, as he had promised he would do.

Presently, Prince Zanac put away the sheet and sighed. He took a sip of the wine and looked out the window of the house. Dakaru was a small town, and its inhabitants had been obviously blindsided by the sudden appearance of so many soldiers. The town did not have a garrison of any kind, nor any facilities for martial purposes. As such, the soldiers were being billeted all over the place in the town's various buildings, from the town hall to the various inns and taverns dotted around. The Prince himself had established his command post at a closed down merchant's shop. The place had been so forlorn that everything was dusty when they'd arrived, and they had not the time and the inclination to clean things out. Zanac himself had stayed over at some small shop, and had slept at a simple bed for two nights now. It had been a novel experience, even if it wasn't completely comfortable. There had been talk of how to compensate the town itself, but he would arrange that later, once the war was over. There were far too many things to consider before that.

Zanac's eyes caught the long film of dust on the windowsill and frowned, before taking another sip of the wine.

The door to the shop opened, and another one of his adjutants arrived. Here was one of those who had been given actual military command over the soldiers, a subordinate recommended by Pespea himself. He and his fellows were tasked with the military side of the operation, while the Prince focused on the more general strokes of leadership. After bowing politely to his fellow adjutants, the man approached the Prince.

"My lord," the man said.

"What have you learned?" the Prince asked, leaning back.

"Your instructions have been disseminated. The men are beginning their first rounds of preparations."

"Very good." He checked another sheet of paper that lay underneath many others. It was a report on the magic division's divination efforts to guess the state of the weather. "Says here that if all goes well, tonight will also have cloudy skies, which will be perfect for our infiltration. Let us just hope that the moon does not show her pretty face."

"Yes sir. Very good, sir."

He put the report away. "What about the final inspection of our equipment?"

"The quartermasters have sent in their report," the man replied promptly. "All the necessary supplies have been loaded on the assigned transports. We expect no deviations on that score. More pertinent to your question, my lord, we have confirmed that the soldiers have been given what they need. As per your instructions they have been informed of the absolute necessity of bringing only what they know will last them until we engage the Holy Kingdom. Here is the report, my lord."

Zanac bobbed his head. In all likelihood the army would have to certain military stock behind, which will have to be collected from the town at a later date. He turned to another adjutant. "How was the mood of the magic division?"

"They're as arrogant as ever," the adjutant said with a snort. "But they're confident. They'll do the job." As they did not have any dedicated magic casting arm in the Kingdom, they needed to rely on mercenaries for magical support. Luckily, there were still some enterprising folk in the Capital City who could be called upon for a price. These were generally Workers—former adventurers that had been cut off from the official Guild for various reasons. They were forced to peddle their skills in other ways. Their competence at the art they practiced was generally known to be questionable, but by this point, they were willing to take anything they could get.

"Have they reviewed the spells they're going to be casting?"

"They have," the adjutant said.

"Good." They were being paid much because they were going to be an important aspect of the operation. They did not exactly know the Sorcerous Kingdom policed its borders, but it was always better to be overly cautious than otherwise. They would perform many different enchantments to screen them from the naked eye. These measures, when added to the necessity of moving on a cloudy, moonless night, would ensure that their armies would never be spotted unless they were standing directly on top of them. And if all went well, then the magic casters would also be instrumental in helping to assault the Holy Kingdom's armies when the time was right.

Zanac drained the last of his drink and stood up. He took out a timepiece from his pocket, and fiddled with the dials along its golden-plated side. "Finish up your own preparations in here, and prepare for the briefing at dusk."

"My prince," said the man who'd just recently arrived. "I had something else to report."

"Oh?" He nodded to the man. "Do tell."

"It is… Well, the morale, my lord. The men are still talking… There continue to be whispering in the houses."

Zanac sighed, bobbing his head wearily in recognition. "Are they still repeating the same things?"

"Yes, my lord."

Zanac hummed to himself, before shrugging and turning away. "Not to worry. Assemble the high-ranking officers at the town hall for a personal briefing with me thirty minutes from now."

The man looked doubtful, but he nonetheless saluted. "At once, my lord."

Zanac sat back down heavily, his face now lined with worry. Ever since he and his entourage had arrived at Dakaru, the first report his adjutants gave him involved this particular issue. There was widespread doubt and discontent among the ranks, and the chief target of such foul, negative moods was targeted squarely at him. There was also widespread concern and trepidation shared by most soldiers about the nature of the operation, as it involved potentially angering a force that had decimated thousands with just a snap of his finger. The very fact that the upper ranking nobles and the King himself had already sanctioned this secret mission did not mean that those on the ground would just accept it.

Though his adjutants hotly denied the possibility, the Prince was himself concerned that the men would desert, or worse, turn coat and outright mutiny. As he had little experience with military matters, he could not expect to know all about what was needed to keep a force of soldiers moving and following his commands faithfully. He was grateful that he still had noble adjutants who were willing to field any questions or demands that were levied at him, but he knew he was walking on the precipice to a calamitous abyss. Over the past days he ordered the continued surveillance of the quartered men, gauging their moods and their desires and hoping for the best. It was all a large, logistical headache that made Zanac almost wish he wasn't the one commanding this force.

But no, there was no more room for doubt. He could not show weakness in front of the men, could not bow to their collective hostility towards him. Besides, they were not the only ones who continued to harbor misgivings about the oncoming operation. For all the effort he had made to ensure that all of the nobles and his own father were working on the same page, he could never shake of a constant feeling of doubt. It was the seed of fear, planted there in his heart when he had learned of the bone-chilling power of Ainz Ooal Gown. There was many a sleepless night in the past when he strove to find some other way, some other alternative in his mind.

But alas, no illumination came, no bright idea. Just the resignation and the despair that he had to do this, no matter what.

He beckoned towards his servants. "I'm suiting up. Attend me." They all scurried forward upon his command, pushing past his adjutants to follow him towards the back room. There, prepared on the armor stand, was the specially enchanted plated armor that had been granted him by his father. It was not as impressive as the Warrior-Captain's own equipment, as he did not have the qualifications to wield it. But it was enough to protect a Prince in the heat of battle. It was enchanted to be noticeably light, which meant he could move around easily without being overburdened too much.

As he was testing and flexing his fingers inside his gauntlets, his adjutant returned from before. "My lord," he said breathlessly. "We are prepared."

Zanac quirked an eyebrow. "As am I." He nodded to his servants, who bowed as he walked past them. He took his sword from its stand, and regarded its smooth, sharp edge, where his own face was reflected. He smiled at himself, before putting it away in his sheath. He sniffed and went for the door. "Come along then," he told his adjutants, who each saluted and followed along behind him as he left the dusty old shop, He strode confidently out onto the small street, and then walked with that same confidence towards the town hall, as if to show to any observers that here was a man who did not fear anything.

Outside, the noise surrounding him was louder now than when he was inside the house. All the billeted men gathered in one place naturally made a lot of noise as they prepared. They polished their weapons, their armor, packing their rations and other miscellany inside saddlebags, yelled incessantly at each other, argued, even prayed to the gods in huddled groups.

There was an air of urgency spread throughout the small town, a sort of nervous energy that underlined everything about this forthcoming operation. Zanac could certainly feel as if he could rightfully be called a part of that throng, sharing in their dread, and yet still quietly resolved, for all their respective reasons.

By the time he reached the town hall, located at the central part of the town, Zanac could practically feel himself surrounded by it, as if he had fully subsumed himself into the will of a small army.

The officers that had been gathered inside all sat in chairs arranged neatly, though not completely perfect. There were the scions of pure noble blood, who had been fortunate to have been spared from the Katze Plains. There were nobles of lesser houses, who had been granted the opportunity to advance through the travails of the nobility following the disastrous war with Ainz Ooal Gown. And then there were the commoners, the captains who had risen through the ranks through sheer grit and cunning, and who now sat among their peers through either noble patronage or the necessary transaction of coin.

As he laid eyes upon them, he could see at a glance that they shared the same nervous energy as all the rest of the men outside. But they also had something that the Prince noticed: doubt. As soldiers who were expected to lead others to either glory or doom, they also were able to see the whole picture on almost the same level as him. They knew full well what this operation was going to be, and what it might cost.

And that was fine for Zanac. He only had to convince them, and they would disseminate it to their shoulders. He knew he did not have the charisma or the resources to convince the common grunt out there preparing, but he could influence their bosses at least.

"You stand in the presence of His Majesty the Crown Prince!" one of his adjutants declared, as he entered the room. As one they stood. Some saluted, those nobles whose loyalty he must always watch, or those veterans who had long served as right-hands to nobles. The others just stood and watched him carefully.

"At ease, gentlemen," he said, smiling blandly. "Please, sit, sit. I insist."

For a moment, he looked at them all gathered here and sitting on their rows, each face a mixture of emotions. He could not process them all one after the other. But he could take the measure of their collective mood. And in that moment, he let them get accommodated with his presence—of the man who was to lead them on this operation. He reminded himself that he was not talking to noblemen in the Capital, plying them with favors, showering them with flattery in order to butter them up for his purpose. Though some were indeed nobles, these were men expected to fight and die as soldiers, and to face such stark realities would require the Prince to become a different sort of orator. A man who would present his case not as a man trying to undermine another or curry favor—but a man prepared to lead his troops to the jaws of death.

After he guessed that the time was right, he started to speak. He spoke casually, as if he had just accosted them on the street outside, and not in such a formal affair as this. "My adjutant once asked me, just yesterday, if we might not have an alternate route to take. As the scouts have it, we could have gone south through the forest, navigating our way through the thick canopy of trees until we reached the other side. From there, we would not even need to undergo this dangerous quest of ours.

"I told my worthy assistant that yes, we had indeed thought of such a thing. The forest nearby has indeed been considered as an alternate approach, and we have had very long debates about it. But in the end, we all agreed—it would be too costly to use that approach, we would sacrifice precious amounts of time to even get through. And then we still have to contend with other difficulties—what if there are bandits in that forest down south? Sure, our soldiers would beat them back, but we cannot be sure if we will remain unscathed. And yet again that is another delay, when it has been made clear to us that we cannot afford to delay one moment longer."

He paused as his eyes swept the room. Only a few looked like they thought nothing of his speech so far. The rest of them looked grim and somber as they stared at him.

"Consider, gentlemen, the facts. The scourge of Roble has penetrated deep and far into the very heart of our territories, charging through like a demented boar, trampling over everything in its path, terrorizing our innocent citizens, and despoiling the lands which rightly belong to our most loyal nobles! Many times have we demanded a peace, an end to all this madness, as our two nations strive towards some deal on the negotiation table. But like a ravenous worm they have continued to remain on our beautiful land. This cannot stand!

"And so, we are forced to employ the full might of our banners and the bravery of our loyal men. Yet cruel circumstance has left us on the defensive, the power of our forces too weak and divided from those accursed Marchers, such that we are forced to retreat, again and again, from a force that we could have readily destroyed! I ask you now, will you still stand for this indignity?"

Most of the nobles murmured "no", their faces turning angry.

"And I am of a heart with you, gentlemen. Though we strive all the best, it is cruel circumstance that leads us to the stalemate on the front we just left. As such, we are left with little choice—do we allow the Holy Kingdom to continue to pillage and plunder to their hearts' content? Or do we sweep down and drive them back towards their lands, ending the ignominy of Remedios Custodios and her accursed paladin ilk?"

The room erupted with cheers. Some of the men had bloodthirsty smiles on their faces. He let them cheer and shout for a while before he continued.

"We need this operation, gentlemen. We need to go through with it, and more than that: we need to succeed. For even as I speak to you all we continue to hold the only path towards our fair and innocent Capital City, that grand army headed by our own loyal Marquis Pespea. And yet, the wise among us fear that it is not enough. If the Holy Kingdom, who has hitherto spinelessly kept back were to force their full number on us, then we are not sure we can manage in that battle. We would only weaken ourselves in that position, pushing all our stout-hearted men towards the killing fields until we are all dead; until the way is opened for the north; until your lands—all our lands—lie prostrate for the depredations of this so-called Holy Kingdom.

"I ask you, you men of honor and strength: shall we allow our enemies to so brazenly violate the territory of His Majesty King Ramposa III, and that of his loyal subjects, with impunity? Shall we allow them to breach our defenses and terrorize our homes, our loved ones? I know I am not alone in saying 'No!' And so we must march, here and now, through forbidden lands, to destroy them. To tear them from their high horses, to splatter their white armor with blood, and show them that only death and ruin shall be the reward for those that dare violate the territories of the Re-Estize Kingdom. And for your efforts we shall secure for ourselves peace of mind, and glory forevermore. So we must be swift!

"Even now the Holy Kingdom continues to muster. It will not take long until they strike—committing their entire force against our army at the pass. When that happens, it is our task to strike at their unprotected back, crushing them between our forces and driving them back. If the gods will it, we can even annihilate them completely.

"But before we can reap our rewards in glorious battle, we need to be there in the first place. And that is what this night-time operation is about. A quick detour into our former lands, crossing a bare strip of land before we return to ours. We bypass the forest, and from there strike at the Holy King's minions from the back."

A wave of murmuring went through the group. He allowed them a beat before he continued. "Gentlemen, through our actions tonight, we might allow the history books to write in posterity—in speaking of our actions today—'If not for their collective heroism, this world would never have seen acts more glorious or more brilliant than that of the Prince's chosen few.' That is our legacy, gentlemen, that we leave for those that will come after."

At that, he paused once more, staring at the officers with a look that was no less intense than before. Most of the men looked more determined now, which was good for his purposes.

"Before we continue," he said, speaking carefully as if he was minding his words he was saying. "There's just one thing I want to say. None of you in this room are aware of this, but I was the one who urged the King most to declare his war."

The men looked confused, and started murmuring to each other.

"It was I," he continued. "Who one fateful night, convinced our King, my father, to go on ahead. Although it was the nobles who pressured him, it was I who tipped the scale for my father. And I can assure you that the decision has kept me awake ever since our first failures. So many men died, at but my word… there is only so much I can do to keep apologizing to their souls. But this has made me determined—more than ever, to make amends. To take responsibility for what I have done. And for this, I apologize to you now." Then, he did the one thing he knew they would not expect. He stepped forward and bowed at the waist.

The murmurs turned into a general burst of speech, as each noble in the room tried drown out the shouts of his neighbor in telling him to stop, to raise his head. Slowly, he did so, his eyes hooded, his head expression downcast.

"That…" he said in a near whisper. "… is the reason why I'm here, gentlemen. He pointed eastward, towards the direction of E-Rantel. "Just like you, I fear the dreadful hands of that butcher, Ainz Ooal Gown. The fear that is present in your hearts is there in mine. I would rather do anything else than upset that accursed ghoul king. But my love for my King far supersedes my fear. My devotion to this kingdom masters my doubts. And most of all, my determination to make right what I did wrong!

"If I could march into the Holy King's camp myself, tie him up, drag him to the border, and force him to sign a treaty and kick him back scurrying to his lands thereafter, I would. I would take that choice gladly, and spare my people pain. But I cannot. Every advance we make, we need to pay with blood. Every moment on the defensive is another one of my subjects fallen, another sad name on the epitaph of our great nation. So it must be done. Because they will not stop. They will not stop violating our sovereignty, doing as they wish in our house, in our fields, in our lands, until every last trace of our nation is wiped out from the world. Until the Re-Estize Kingdom is but a lost name for a lost kingdom, and our lives be forgotten as of the sands 'round Eryuentia."

He watched their eyes carefully, and when he was satisfied that most of them had been excited into an uproar, he put his hand on his sword and drew it, raising its gleaming edge high to the ceiling.

"I will march myself over the border to the Sorcerous Kingdom, walk a few miles south, and then cross back over to our lands. From there I shall charge on, alone, if need be, until I have reached the camp of our enemies, and there revenge myself for all their sordid humiliations even if it costs me my life! And I shall be honored to call all who march with me, as my brother. For he has also walked this blood-strewn path, through the dark tunnel of fear towards glorious and eternal glory!

"And so, gentlemen!" Prince Zanac all but screamed, his face flushed with effort. The hand gripping his pommel was almost quivering now, as his sword all but threatened to fall from nerveless fingers. "I ask you all now: will you ride with me, though my road leads to oblivion!"

The resulting cheer almost deafened him. Still, they also scrambled to draw and raise their swords; and in the commotion, he was able to lower his, stabbing the tip onto the wooden floor.

"For King Ramposa!"

"For the Kingdom!"

"For the Prince!"

"Glory for us all!"

"Glory to Prince Zanac!"

"Very good," he said, when their cheers died down. He tried desperately to conceal how out of breath he was. "Very good. I hope you can transfer this fervor to your subordinates, and they to theirs in turn. Gentlemen, I hope I can rely on you tonight, and forevermore."

---

A soft light flashed above Narberal Gamma's head. She felt a cool wave course through her body from head to foot, like she was slipping into lukewarm water. As the diagnostic spell went its way through her body, she watched the healer nodding to itself as it stared at her pregnant body. She was lying naked on a slanted, cushioned chair, her legs spread and her smooth, pale skin flushed beneath the light. They had just completed examining her pussy, and as such she felt some residual tingling down there where the healer had been examining her.

The healer wore a mask of white upon which was a symbol of a crossroads in red and gold, like some strange "x". Behind the mask one could grasp a sense of its real nature—a scaled, hideous thing that would not have been the first choice to take on the job of "maternal healer" for Ainz Ooal Gown's children. And yet, they were the only ones who possessed the capable spells and abilities, which meant that they alone were qualified to change their duties from guarding the tomb, to watching over the health of both mother and children. More specifically, the mothers of Ainz Ooal Gown, which made the job all the more important and crucial for everyone involved.

Narberal would not have minded their normal selves, but apparently, Ainz-sama thought they would be too unsettling for the humans and other outsiders he had brought it to serve as his mothers. At the thought of those unwanted outsiders, Narberal fought to stifle a derisive snort. What more proof did she need for considering these insects as a plague to be driven away? They did not respect Nazarick, nor of how things should be. Even these lowly healers had been created this way by the masters, and to gird them in clothes and masks so as not to "disturb" them was just a sign of clear disrespect.

Unfortunately, the Master had rebuffed everyone's protests, even Albedo-sama's. And since it was his word as the literal law that everyone must follow, she could do little but grit her teeth and "try" to get along with these outsiders, even if she could think of nothing else than ripping them apart limb from limb for even daring to be here, soaking up the Master's attention like a bunch of bothersome leeches.

"Everything seems fine, my dear," came the creaky voice of the healer, as if coming from someone whose throat was perpetually parched. It poked its gloved finger at her belly, right over the peak of her protrusion. "I will keep on exhorting you to take care of your body. Ahem." It had to keep clearing its throat periodically, as if there was a buildup of something that clogged its throat. "Hmmphhh… You're in the last stages of your pregnancy, and it becomes all the more important to watch how you act. How you move. Though a little exercise here and there wouldn't be a bad thing… Ahem…"

"How are the babies?" she asked.

The healer made a clucking sound. "They're healthy, as healthy as any children of Ainz-sama's is expected to be. You've done well to carry them to this point—just a little bit more and we can see them born safe and sound."

She flushed, her heartbeat soaring even as her relief crashed through her. She knew in her heart and in her body that she felt nothing wrong with herself or her children. But she would always feel apprehensive when the time came for a check-up. Ever afraid of failure, she did not know if she could bear the frightening images in her imagination of her losing the precious babies, the crystallization of her Master's love.

"Now, ahem, is there anything else you'd like to tell me?" the healer asked.

"Huh? Oh…" Narberal thought about it. "My boobs…"

"Hm…?"

She looked down at her breasts, which sat heavy along her chest. Her nipples had grown darker as her pregnancy grew. The pair of boobs had been feeling a lot heavier than before, and there was this itchy, irritating feeling about them that she really couldn't place. It felt uncomfortable, to say the least. She told the healer about it, who nodded its masked face.

"Hum, hum, I see. You're not the first of the mothers to feel this way. Certainly that Zesshi Zetsumei also complained about it."

"I see…" Narberal's face flashed with anger upon hearing about Zesshi. In her opinion, that one was one of the worst examples of those who did not deserve to be with Ainz-sama at all.

"Ahem. In this case, dearie, I'll tell you what I told her. Your breasts are full of milk, milk that should be given to your babies when they're born. If you really can't stand them feeling like that anymore, then you should try a little self-stimulation to purge the excess away."

"Pardon?" Narberal tilted her head. "What should I be doing?"

"Self-stimulation," the healer said drily. When she did not respond, the healer snapped its fingers, the sound like bones clattering on the floor. "Tsk. Do I really have to spell it out for you? Masturbation, you dumb broad."

"Oh!" Another flush came to Narberal's face as she looked down. Of course she knew about that. Not that she did any of that herself, even in her moments alone. Ainz-sama was generous enough to be a lover when she needed it, and he—or another if it was an orgy—was usually the one to be doing the stimulation. In a way, she had little experience with doing it herself, though she had learned some "pointers" from Shalltear Bloodfallen.

"Trust me," the healer continued, still speaking in a matter-of-fact voice. "A little pinch, a little squeeze, and you'll get some relief before the milk starts to build up. Ah-em. Then just do it again and again until you can pop those two out and you can leave it to them drain you dry."

"I…" Narberal didn't know what to say to that exactly. "I thank you for the aid. And the advice. I assume that will be all."

"Yep, yep, that's everything," the healer said. "Got to type up my report for Ainz-sama but you don't need to be here for that. Go on and return to whatever it is you were doing. Ahem. And as ever, don't fucking overdo it."

"Got it."

"Take care, dear."

Narberal slid off the seat and fumbled for her clothes which were hanging close by. She quickly slipped them on before she left the room, whereupon she exited right onto the mother's hall. The hall was mostly empty except for two worthless insects, to which he paid no mind. To their credit, they did not try to greet her as the foolish Zesshi Zetsumei would have done. She crossed the large chamber to the hall outside.

"Ainz-sama…" she murmured as she walked down the hall. She had to meet him. She had to know where he was. She had to go up to him and tell him about her recent examination, and then, and then…

Yes, she had something to ask him. A question that had been on her mind. And also…

She flushed, feeling the twinge in her nipples and the pleasant sensation in her lower lips. She also wanted to make love to the Master. She needed him to… relieve her breasts. Yes, that was it. That was the reason why she needed him. Urgently.

She broke into a jog, despite knowing she shouldn't be moving around so much. Though she knew she could have just asked those insects back at the Mother's Hall if they knew where Ainz-sama was, she didn't want to stoop to having to ask those creatures for help. Especially that Clementine… That grinning blonde was always wearing revealing clothes in the mother's hall, and sometimes she walked around completely naked, as if the mother's hall were an orgy room! She couldn't deny that if the Master willed it the hall could be a place of orgy as had happened before, but the insect's presumption bordered on insolence. She had heard Shalltear say that this was merely a desperate tactic by an inferior being: a cheap plan to ensnare Ainz-sama through blatant use of her body, like she was holding it for sale. Such raw arrogance made Narberal seethe, and because of Ainz-sama's word she could do nothing but glare at the human, which only seemed to make Clementine all the smugger. Which in turn made Narberal angrier and angrier.

Thankfully, the succor for her thoughts came right on time, in the form of a pile of papers walking on two thin, almost stick-like legs. At least, that was the first impression that Narberal saw when she spotted it. As she approached the figure, it became much more obvious that this was just her sister Entoma carrying a tall, fat stack of papers on a wooden tray and trying hard to balance it all as she walked along the hall. It was strange enough to see, for the Pleiades were strong enough for at least a stack of papers, yet why did Entoma look like she was having trouble? She put that from her mind as she approached.

As she watched, her sister paused, before turning her body so she could turn her porcelain-like face towards her. "Ah, Nabe! Greetings!"

"Hey," she said in reply. "What kind of work have you got there?"

"My current duties from Ainz-sama!" Entoma replied with a cheerful chirp. "There's a whole bunch of papers just like this that's bound for the library!"

"The library? What for?"

"I don't know. I was never told why. But I'm happy to do it all the same."

"I see… That sounds like a lot of work, Entoma." It was tedious work, which should have been given to lower-ranking subordinates.

"Oh it is! I've been walking a lot of these papers down to the library for the whole morning now. But I don't mind."

In a way, she felt guilty about her fellow Pleiades. With the full majority of their number being forcefully "retired" from performing their duties as their pregnancies progressed, it fell to the rest to pick up slack. For example, Demiurge had been given the lion's share of the duties that used to be Albedo-sama's, though she'd heard through the grapevine that Albedo still insisted on performing her share—when the Master wasn't looking.

And much of Nazarick's defenses was now chiefly headed by Cocytus, thanks to Shalltear Bloodfallen's pregnancy which necessitated the takeover of the latter's floors. In the case of an attack, Shalltear had been forbidden from performing her normal duties as Guardian, and it would have been up to Cocytus to brutally crush any intruders instead of waiting on his floor. Still, that had left Nazarick woefully underdefended, though thankfully there had not yet been such an attack.

For her sister Entoma in particular, she was now taking more and more of the menial tasks that each of the Pleiades should have shouldered if they had been all available. As they accumulated weight from their growing babes, so too did the weight of work pile up in both Entoma's and Shizu's sides. And Narberal could do nothing else but watch, knowing full well the Master's orders.

Still, the fact that the Master had not chosen her two remaining sisters, and had instead chosen to impregnate other unrelated people outside the tomb made Narberal all the angrier. Not at Ainz, obviously, but at these harlots who did not know their place, and yet dared to take what should not be theirs.

"Don't worry," Narberal said aloud. "It's only a matter of time."

"Yeah, I know!" Entoma said cheerfully. "Just a few more trips back to the office and I'll be done."

It was clear her sister had missed the intent of her thoughts. "Oh, that's… never mind."

"So did you have something to tell me, sister? Got something to share? Or maybe you had something to ask?"

"Oh, right." Narberal blinked, remembering the very purpose of her coming out here. "Might you be able to know where Ainz-sama is?"

"Ainz-sama? I haven't seen him since yesterday."

"I see…" Narberal frowned, her previous mood dampening. "Maybe he's at his office…"

"Oh, he's not there," Entoma said simply. "Didn't you hear me, Nabe? It's my job to carry all these papers from there down to the library. So I would know that Ainz-sama wasn't there when I picked these up." Her sister paused. "But, y'know, maybe she would know."

"She?"

"Oh, my apologies. I meant, Shalltear-sama. She's over there at the office, for some reason. I don't know exactly why, but she's working on something over there. Maybe you can ask her?"

"Maybe I will. Thanks, sister."

"Anytime!" Entoma chirped. She started humming to herself as she started to walk away, the stack of papers still clutched in her arms. Narberal watched her go, guilt still in her chest, before she turned away.

From the Mother's Hall, it was only a short distance to Ainz-sama's office, which was also located right on the same floor. She had heard it said that it had been a deliberate choice, as it allowed the mothers quick access to where Ainz was (usually) located. It was also the same thing with their personal chambers assigned to them as mothers, as they were also located on the same floor.

Right as she spotted the familiar pair of bodyguards standing outside the door, Shalltear emerged from within, her smaller, nubile frame a sharp contrast to her swollen belly, which hung from her front like an exceptionally large piece of fruit. She waddled forward, catching sight of her.

"Shalltear-sama," she said in greeting, accompanying that with a bow.

Shalltear made some sort of gesture with her hands before walking past her completely, as if Narberal was currently far beneath her thoughts. Belatedly realizing this, she straightened her posture and immediately darted forward to catch her. "Um, excuse me, Shalltear-sama? I would like to ask you something, please!"

The Floor Guardian stopped, and after clearing her throat she turned around. She made a simpering smile and crossed her arms above her large belly. "Yes? What might be the matter, maid?" she said in her melodic voice.

She almost blanched at the look that Shalltear was leveling at her. Common knowledge meant that a Shalltear speaking in such a saccharine voice meant she was baring her fangs inside her mouth. Ironically, it was when she was angered that one could be set at ease—though not angered to the point she really did bare her fangs in true vampiric fashion. She didn't like to deal with Shalltear when she was in this state, but she'd got no other option at this point. "Well, would you happen to know where Ainz-sama is at the moment?"

"Hm?" It was impossible for Shalltear's smile to widen any more, but she seemed to manage it regardless. She moved forward, standing right in front of Narberal, to the point where their bellies were touching each other.

"Um, Shalltear-sama…" Narberal said anxiously.

She tried to move backward, but then, Shalltear said: "Don't move from there."

"…Very well."

With their bellies still smushed against each other, Shalltear continued to speak, as if she they really were still carrying on a conversation. She looked at her nails and puffed on the idly. "Going back to your question, what exactly did you need Ainz-sama for? Have you any… business with him?"

"Y-yes, but it's a private matter, truly, Shalltear-sama," Narberal said hastily. "Nothing to concern yourself about."

"Oh, but we are concerned," Shalltear said. "Very much. Still, we shan't be boorish. You may find the Master down at the Treasury, where he has been for the past few hours. We saw him off myself after he ravished us on his table for nigh on eternity."

"Ah, I see. I thank you, Shalltear-sama."

She was about to move when Shalltear once again said,

"Stop."

She looked quizzically at the other woman, whose smile never once wavered. "Now, my dear, far be it for us to end this conversation of ours without a proper send-off. And let it not be said that you yourself would ever dare to do the same. Or do we misunderstand you, or your intent?" Her eyes narrowed, the brilliant red orbs taking on the gleam of a stalking predator.

"I… No, Shalltear-sama. Certainly not."

"Good. Then please entertain us for a while." She started to rub her belly against Narberal's for a reason she did not know.

"I am at your disposal."

Shalltear grunted in approval. "Ever since we discovered the details, we have always found it curious that only a select few among us had achieved the most impressive feat of bearing Ainz-sama multiple children. We have heard the healers describe it as a 'miracle', however we do now question that assertion, as it is clear that Ainz-sama's seed was able to produce multiple children in not just one, but several of the mothers."

"I…" Narberal did not know what to say. The intricacies or systems of motherhood and everything involving it was lost on her, and she was just here to bear Ainz-sama's children, nothing more.

Yet Shalltear continued to press. "Have you any idea? Any idea at all?" she asked, as she began to touch Narberal's body. Being told not to move, she could do nothing but watch Shalltear's hands move all around and there feel the effects she was having on her body. She stiffened when her hands started fondling her thick, hanging breasts. This was clearly not innocent touching anymore.

She looked at Shalltear's face, and found her completely unconcerned, as if she was only doing something normal for her. Eventually, the fondling continued with Shalltear grinding her belly against Narberal's in a teasing, almost lewd manner, all while she pushed, prodded and squeezed her breasts. Narberal's face started to grow flushed, as flashes of intense pleasure shot through her body from the vampire's relentless molestation. Yet again she looked closely at Shalltear's face, and saw that the other woman still appeared as if she did not know what she was doing to her. If this was some sort of trick, then Shalltear was really good at hiding her intentions.

"Truly…" Narberal gasped. "I do not know… Shaltear-sama…" She could almost feel her breasts contracting, as if forcing some of the milk out through her nipples. She tried to hold it in, as it would signify to Shalltear that she was getting turned on by her movements. While she would not say no to Shalltear's ministrations during an orgy, she did not want to be the vampire's exclusive toy. She wanted Ainz-sama to be there.

"Tch." Shalltear made a sound, as if she was annoyed. "You and that damned Zesshi… That impudent bitch Clementine… Even that weakling Neia! What do you all have that the others don't? Why are you blessed with many right off the bat, giving you a numerical advantage?"

"Shalltear-sama, I…" Narberal wanted to say, still struggling to contain her whines of pleasure. "I… Honestly think, that there's nothing… to worry about."

Shalltear suddenly squeezed her tits, causing Narberal to wince and bite her lips. "And what do you know? You're just a maid. How would you know about the Master's thoughts? Hm?"

This was a trap. It was clear that she should tread lightly with her answer, or else the vampire would find some excuse to detain her further; and Narberal did not want to play the pet to the vampire, no matter how stronger she was.

"I only… haah…" Narberal sighed, as a particularly pleasant surge of pleasure shot through her nerves, almost causing her to knees to buckle. "Shalltear-sama… I only meant to say… That I know… I share your frustration!"

"Hm?"

She glared, and tried to imagine she was looking at Zesshi Zetsumei in that moment. "I, too, share your anger that these unworthy insects have been allowed to take their place among us. The fact that they have clearly tricked their way into the Master's affections should not distract us from the fact that they do not belong here in glorious Nazarick."

Shalltear stared at her silently for a few moments. "Well said."

"Please, Shalltear-sama, do not fear," Narberal said. "I have full confidence that Ainz-sama will still wish to breed new children inside you and the rest of us. It is only a matter of time. Who knows, perhaps in the next pregnancy, it will be you who will carry twins—no, you will be able to carry triplets, perhaps."

"Hum… Yes, We do see your point. But sometimes it is hard to extract a promise from the Master. He has not said that he wishes for a second child from us, after all…"

"Then allow me to help you, Shalltear-sama," Narberal said. "When the time comes around again and you require Ainz-sama to impregnate you once more, then it is only a matter of exerting ourselves to seduce him. And I shall help you on that regard, to pleasure him and ensure your second conception."

"You will help us, hm?" Shalltear said, arching an eyebrow delicately. Her smile was not as wide, and there was an intense, contemplative look on her face. "While we do admit that you have your talents in the orgies, we have not reached a point where we need another one to help us. But… The sentiment is nonetheless appreciated."

And thus, it was Shalltear who stepped back and turned away. "Off you go, little maid. You were looking for Ainz-sama correct? See if you can catch him down at the Treasury."

"Th-thank you, Shalltear-sama," Narberal said. She started to scurry away.

"We are personally looking forward to sparring with you in the orgies once more, Narberal Gamma," Shalltear called after her. "And of course, to sample you ourselves once again. You're certainly more delicious than you seem."

Narberal stopped, and stammered out a thanks despite the blush on her face. Then, suppressing the urge to shudder, she went to the teleportation room that would take her down to the Treasury. She tried not to think too much of Shalltear's declaration. It spoke a lot that only the likes of Albedo or Ainz-sama could really deal with the likes of her.

---

When she arrived at the Treasury, she found that the entrance was still sealed. As there were few in Nazarick who had the necessary permission to enter, she found herself standing at the hall outside. She looked around, and found no place to sit. Normally she would not have minded standing, but she was taking care not to overburden her babies, as the healers told her, which meant that a seat would have definitely helped.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to them, rubbing over the fabric on her belly. She did not know if they heard her, or even that they understood. But she nonetheless felt a wave of affection surge through her as she thought of her twins that were about to be born. She had the distant, though strong surge of wanting to hold them in her arms in that moment, which left her in a giddy state. She smiled and made cooing noises as she patted her belly. What would they look like? She had seen images of babies before, when Ainz had showed her and the rest of the mothers—all to sate their curiosity. She was not impressed by their small sizes or their incessantly obnoxious behavior, but when she imagined it was her twins in her arms, she could not help but feel otherwise. She would be ready to forgive all their flaws, and to love them no matter what. She felt them move around inside her. She smiled.

No matter what.

The door to the Treasury suddenly opened, making Narberal school her features to something a little more stoic. A figure emerged from within—the one she had been looking for, Ainz Ooal Gown. He was wearing his "warrior" armor, which meant that he was in some way fitted for a serious undertaking. (Though she couldn't be sure, as the Master was able to transform into anything as he pleased)

Just as she was about to call out to him, two other figures emerged from within the Treasury behind him. She saw the towering, crystalline figure of Cocytus, his many arms glittering like freshly frozen ice. The other was Pandora's Actor, Ainz-sama's erstwhile doppelganger disciple, who was clad in a strange garb of a long coat and some sort of stoic uniform.

"Ah, hello there, Narberal," Ainz said, looking towards her. He sounded surprised.

"Ainz-sama…" she replied, unable to form anything more coherent after laying eyes on the one she had been looking for all this time.

Ainz raised a finger, as if motioning for her to wait. "One moment, please. I'll be right there with you." He turned to Cocytus, who together with Pandora's Actor on the other side of Ainz was standing to attention before the Master. "Be sure to remember that we should be acting as normally as we should be, as the Sorcerous Kingdom. Do not carelessly reveal the capabilities of Nazarick. Especially you, Cocytus. You are the overall commander, but you should not reveal yourself, no matter what happens. If there is something that causes concern, you are to report to us back here directly."

"Understood," Cocytus said.

"That goes for you too," Ainz said, addressing Pandora's Actor. "In case of an extraordinary emergency, you have to escape, and not carelessly reveal yourself. Now, was there anything else you wanted to ask? You may speak; it is important to ask questions and clarify matters with one's superior before it's too late. That is a mark of a good employee."

"I. Understand. The. Mandate. Ainz-sama." Cocytus put one of his forearms to his chest, as if in a salute. The appendage gleamed like a polished blade, with an edge that was impossibly sharp. "I. Shall. Not. Disappoint."

"Good to hear. Hopefully you will learn something new. Lessons may always be learned, even when one is already a master." Ainz next turned towards Pandora's Actor. "How about you?"

The other one snapped his hand to his head sharply. "I have understood the directives that I have been given, mein master. I shall endeavor to carry it out to the best of my abilities!"

"Very good." Ainz nodded, though he turned away hastily, as if he did not want to look at Pandora's Actor a second longer. "I've sent word to Demiurge to coordinate the deployment of our forces. I assume he will have made it all ready. But I shall leave the rest of the preparations to you."

"By. Your. Command!"

The two saluted in unison, before they started to lumber away, in Narberal's direction. The two caught sight of her and paused to address her.

"Narberal Gamma," came Cocytus' rumbling voice. "It. Is. Good. To. See. You. Healthy. We. Eagerly. Await. The. Births. Of. The. Next. Successions."

"You're too kind, Cocytus-sama," Narberal said, with a slight bow.

"I. Go. Now. To. Defend. The. Home. That. Will. Be. Theirs." Cocytus made the same salute as he did with Ainz-sama, before he lumbered off, his steps loud and heavy on the carpet.

Next came Pandora's Actor. He bowed low at the waist, his cap almost touching the floor. "I say well met, fraulein, but regrettably I must also bid you adieu. The Master has tasks for us that require action, and it is our duty to follow. I must say, I do look forward to speaking with you more properly some other time. I shall await that moment with eager mind."

"Oh, yes, very good," Narberal replied stiffly, not knowing how to deal with the overly expressive minion. It was rather bizarre, as he was Ainz-sama's personal Creation, which meant that as of that moment he was as close to being Ainz-sama's "child" than the rest. Though that fact would be changing very soon.

Pandora's Actor swept his body upward with a flourish of his arms. He adjusted the buttons on his lapel for a brief moment before marching forward on the trail of Cocytus. Narberal watched the two of them turn the corridor and disappear, ostensibly to the teleportation chamber. Then there was silence.

"So, Narberal, what brings you here?" came Ainz-sama's voice, which broke the silence.

"Uh, Ainz-sama!" Narberal yelped, turning towards him. "My apologies, I…" She swallowed. "I was looking for you."

Ainz tilted his head. "Looking for me? But why? Is something wrong? Are you feeling alright?" He walked forward, seemingly filled with a new sense of urgency. He grasped her hands in his, and she felt awed by how small hers felt against his. She blushed and looked down, averting her eyes from him. Then he cupped his hand on her cheek, lifting her face so they could match eyes. She blushed as she looked straight back at him, but of course she didn't want to let go of his hands.

"N-no, I feel fine, Ainz-sama! I just… I just had a question to ask of you."

"Oh." Ainz sighed. "Well, this is not a good location to talk. Not while you're standing like that. Come, let us return to my office." Narberal looked up and saw Ainz had already opened a Gate. On the other side, she could see the interior of Ainz's work place, with the desk and the chairs. She allowed herself to be ushered through the Gate, while still holding Ainz's hands. He led her to one of the chairs, where she dutifully sat down.

"Ah, it looks like Shalltear's done," Ainz said, looking around the office. "Did you want something for yourself, Nabe? Something to drink?"

"No, but thank you Ainz-sama," she said, gushing. "You're so kind."

Ainz chuckled. "I try my best."

Narberal shifted in her seat. "The healers were already kind enough to replenish me just now," she explained.

"Oh, that's right," Ainz said, snapping his fingers. "Today was your scheduled checkup wasn't it, Nabe? Well, tell me, how was it?"

Narberal beamed. "The healers were pleased by my condition. They reported no abnormalities, Ainz-sama."

"That's good!" Ainz all but exclaimed. He snorted to himself. "That's good…" he repeated. "Least that's another out of the way. Zesshi's done, then there's you…"

At the mention of that woman, Narberal's expression darkened, her mood sinking one inch down. Apparently, Ainz seemed to have noticed, as he'd then said, "What's wrong, Nabe?"

"My lord…" she started. She wrung her hands anxiously, trying to figure out how best to ask. "I wanted to ask about Zesshi… and the others who are not from… Nazarick. You told me that I should try to get along with them more…"

Ainz rubbed his chin, as if in thought. "That's right. You seemed to have a… puzzling attitude when it came to interacting with the mothers who did not come from Nazarick. I wanted you to understand… Was there something you wanted to clarify about the order?"

"Ainz-sama…" She took another deep breath. She took another. She could almost feel as if she was about to jump down from on top of a towering height. She didn't want to arouse the Master's anger, especially after Lupusregina had borne the brunt of it just recently. It was very apparent that not even the status of being a mother could save one from being reprimanded by the Master.

Ainz cleared his throat, and leaned back on his chair. "You may speak your mind freely. Please, speak. No matter what you say, I will not become angry, believe me. Say what you like."

She sighed. She nodded her head shakily. "Very well, Ainz-sama. Why do you—or why did you allow these outsiders to come into Nazarick? Why did you allow them to become… our fellow mothers?"

Ainz blinked, then he sighed. "Before I answer that, please forgive me for asking another question in turn. Why do you think they should not be allowed?"

She opened her mouth. Well, it was obvious, wasn't it? They weren't from Nazarick. That meant: "Because they're not worthy of the honor, Ainz-sama," she said, and having said that she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She continued to speak her mind with a boldness that had not been there before. "Near all of them are mortals, and humans, weak inferior beings that have no place in the Creations of the Forty-One. And the one exception, that Keeno, is but a pale reflection of what Shalltear-sama is. She is just as weak and mediocre as the rest of them." She paused to take a breath. She saw Ainz-sama was about to speak, but she continued, blurting out the feelings in her heart. "And that Zesshi… out of all of them, out of all of us, it seems you favor her the most! Why is that, Ainz-sama? Only because she was the first? But we have been here from the start, serving you long before that harlot came on the scene! Please, Ainz-sama, I must know…"

Ainz had a look on his face that was halfway between a smile and a frown.

---

He sighed.

He should have expected this of course. He had seen the signs, but he had perhaps been too stubborn, or too optimistic to see them as anything but simple jealousy.

And perhaps at the root of it was simple jealousy, and it was only circumstance and every NPC's respective personalities that had become a prism through which this light of jealousy had formed a veritable rainbow of emotion. He had seen such raw anger being expressed from Albedo or Shalltear. He had also seen much bitter defiance from Zessshi Zetsumei, and the abject fear in Neia Baraja's eyes. Though he had tried his best, navigating the rigmaroles of having multiple lovers with their respective wants and needs to balance, it was still clear that there were some things he could not just force to change.

At least, not without completely shattering the image he had in his mind of himself as a benevolent father figure and husband to all of them, accepting all of their flaws and eccentricities with the patience of a buddha.

Perhaps he truly had been blind. He had blinded himself, crafting a delusion in his head and believing it completely to the detriment of common sense. In this way he had acted over the past months, believing that things were continuing as he had expected. Believing that things would fall into place if he only continued as he had. And so he had collected lovers as a man might collect trinkets—though he valued them far more than that.

And yet by pushing through his vision he had failed to take into account the wishes of those he had bound to himself, believing that they would fall in line behind him as long as he steered the course properly. And was that not similar to just treating them as mere NPCs, pieces of data, and not the actual, living beings they had become? He had vowed to himself that he would do the opposite—and yet it seemed he had done just that.

"Listen, Nabe," he said. "Yes… in a way, Zesshi is the most prominent among you mothers." Narberal looked back up, her expression suddenly intense. "And that is for a good reason."

"… What reason might that be, Ainz-sama?"

He raised his finger. "I have never told this to anyone. But Zesshi is the one, the very first one who was able to successfully seduce me. In that way, she showed me a brand-new path forward. Not only for opening my eyes to all you women, but to my newfound desire to create a family vast enough to spread all over the world.

"In fact, it is not an exaggeration to say that it is only thanks to her that I have set my eyes on you lot at all." Narberal's eyes widened, as if she had realized something. "And she achieved that through a most… unusual seduction." And it really had been unusual. "Without her opening the path forward, I would never have even thought of laying my hands on you. Even if you had begged, or tried to seduce me in your own ways. I would have refused, even to my dying breath."

In retrospect, he was not entirely sure if he would have not given in to temptation sooner or later. But before Zesshi he had already spent the better part of a year enduring the guiles of Albedo and Shalltear without even breaking his composure. The him from before had possessed a remarkable iron will that deflected such overtures. It had only been defeated through a series of coincidences and factors, but it was very much clear that Zesshi Zetsumei lay at the center of it all.

"I say this not to elevate her over you as someone whom I prize above you all. I do emphasize here and now that I do value you all equally. Equally, Nabe. I know that perhaps you do not understand, or maybe you never will. I only hope you do. Either way, as long as you continue to follow the rules I have set, you may continue to retain your opinions about the others without fear."

Nabe didn't look convinced, but she nodded. "I understand, Ainz-sama."

He continued: "I only ask that you be at the least respectful towards them, and the children they bear. It is especially important for the children: they are my blood, and you will accord them respect as you give to me. I shall demand the same thing from the other mothers towards the children you will bear as well, Nabe, so it's a two-way street." When he mentioned her twins, Nabe looked down and patted the front of her belly with a fondness that was almost saccharinely sweet. It made him smile, despite the high-tension situation.

He reached over and laid a hand over hers, and with his fingertips he was able to feel the warmth of her belly. Narberal looked up into his eyes and smiled, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Ainz-sama…" she said softly.

"When the time comes," he said gently. "All the children may be gathered together, where I hope they will get along with their siblings in one big, happy pile. But I won't force this on every one of my lovers. If you wish it, you can keep your children to yourself, and restrict them from associating too much with those you do not like. But as I said, I will demand respect from you, and from the children, to be given to the others."

Narberal sat there quietly, as his hand still covered hers on her belly. He can feel the faint vibrations from inside it, informing him of the very real proof of life that was yet growing inside their mother's belly. This precious life needed to be protected, now and long after they'd been born.

"I shall try, Ainz-sama," she presently said. For a moment, it appeared he had misheard her. But then she repeated it, louder, and with a little more conviction. "I will do my best!"

He nodded approvingly. "That's all I ask. Nothing more."

Narberal smiled hesitantly.

He leaned back in his chair. "Now then, with that done, was there—" He was just about to stand when Narberal suddenly moved. Seeing this, he paused, only to realize her intent a second later when she almost literally barreled into him, her arms thrown around his shoulders in an embrace.

"Ainz-sama, Ainz-sama…!" she said, in a voice that was half-sobbing.

"There, there," he whispered, patting her back as she clung to him as if she was drowning and he was her only savior. After a while, she looked up at him, with her face so close. It was inevitable that they kissed, deep and long and hard.

He sighed, when the parted. "…As I was saying… What else did you want to meet me for? Surely not for just that one question."

"Um…" Her normal stoic face twisted as her cheeks flushed bright red. "That's…" It was clear by the way she was fidgeting that there was more to her attitude beneath the surface.

"I see how it is," he said slyly. He chuckled.

"Ainz-sama!" she said, pouting.

"Sorry, sorry, but it is obvious that you girls can get really frisky. I know that look, I've seen that look before."

"Then… Ainz-sama…" She angled her head upward, as if to seek his lips again. Only this time, he knew she was expecting it to go even further than a kiss.

"Hmmm… I don't know…" he said, brushing her cheek. "Today I promised Solution and Clementine I'd do it with them. It wouldn't be fair to them, now would it?"

"Oh." And for that, he felt bad to see Narberal's face actually droop, her expression dimming as if he'd just told her bad news.

He smiled, and used a finger to tilt her chin back up. "But I'm sure we can manage with a quickie."

She smiled, and this time it was so cute and brilliant that he was momentarily dumbstruck. He did the only sane thing he could do: he mashed his lips to hers, and she made a surprised squeaking voice in her throat.

"Hmmpphh… Phhaaah… Ainz-sama…"

Barely a minute later their clothes were gone, and Ainz already had her on her back on the desk, spreading her legs wide. Ainz marveled at the smooth, shining surface of her pregnant belly, which rose and fell in tune with her breathing, as he mounted her. He cupped her breast and pushed himself inside her warmth with a groan. He loved this woman. He loved them all.

---

The night was dark, and the darkness was deep. The small army had streamed out of Dakaru in formation, before massing right at the border between both kingdoms. For a long hour they made their final preparations. After that was done, the first of the army crossed over to the Sorcerous Kingdom, an unofficial, non-hostile concern that would hopefully end with no one else the wiser.

The army moved, guided only by the small, shimmering stones that the captains wore as they rode at the head of their respective columns. Each column directly followed the one in front in a long, unbroken line that rode swiftly through Sorcerous Kingdom territory. Their supply wagons rode in the middle, carrying the precious few supplies they were allowed to bring on this ride. Much haste was needed for this part of the operation, as they needed to return to the Re-Estize side of the border as soon as possible.

Just to their right was the aforementioned border, give or take a few yards as the distance wound on. Only the royal cartographers on either side could make an accurate estimation on where exactly the Re-Estize Kingdom's sovereignty ended, so the forest-line on their immediate right was seen as their aid in determining the "official" border. Owing to the horses' movements, which were on the whole erratic and uneven, the columns were seen to drift further outwards deeper into Ainz Ooal Gown's territory before they corrected themselves back to the right.

The spells cast on them by the magical contingent had seemed to work, as even to their eyes the other groups looked like indistinct, shadowy shapes moving over the field. The blanket of darkness made them look like eerie wraiths for that same reason, which was an unfortunate resemblance, considering foe's nature of the being they so feared to anger.

Prince Zanac himself was the captain of his own column, and his was at the very rear of the moving army, as per his choice. He had wanted to see the movement of the entire army with his own eyes, without needing to crane his neck and look behind like some daft fool. Though he could not see all of them thanks to the enchantment, he was still able to follow the dim glow signifying the captains riding at the head of their columns. They were as moving waymarks by which Zanac was able to gauge the progress of the army's march, where he could hopefully spot a group moving dangerously out of position. While he could do nothing in that instance, at least he would know exactly which group it was, as each captain carried a different glowing light.

So far, as the minutes passed, everything seemed to be continuing smoothly. Everything was going as had been planned, and nothing had been overlooked or forgotten. The mayor back in Dakaru had been told to inform his people in turn that if anyone asked, they would say that no one—no army—had stayed over at his town for a period of days. He was assured that the ruler of the land already knew the facts and would similarly keep silent. (this was true, the minor noble had already been informed of the operation)

He had other fears. There was a chance that, even if this part of the operation was done, most—or even all—of these men would plot to mutiny, and disappear into the countryside like so many other bandit armies had done. He had heard such things happen before, and in those instances, they had been done at a time when they did not face oblivion. If he put himself into the shoes of any of these men riding before him, he would have definitely thought of a way to desert or mutiny, if only to avoid dying in what would seem like a worthless cause.

Thankfully, he'd made extra sure that his noble subordinates had been vetted thoroughly beforehand. They were all from the northern lands, and would therefore stand to lose much by leading the men in an ill-thought rebellion. And even if they thought to be adventurous—perhaps they thought they could ally with a Marcher force and retake their lands later—it was still a very big gamble, one that would not be as guaranteed as remaining loyal to the Crown and doing as they were told.

The retainer soldiers were another thing, but again Zanac had ensured that there would be few risks. The nobles who'd owned their allegiance had sworn before the gods that they were capable, loyal warriors, and had staked their word on that. A noble harboring some plot, or who was unsure of their retainers' quality, would have refrained from volunteering them entirely for the Prince's army, as retribution would come swift to them in the Capital at the first sign of treachery. For that, Zanac had even prepared a special contingency, something only the King and a few magic casters knew. It was something Renner had suggested, when he'd met her before he'd departed.

As such, the only ones who reasonably needed to be watched for a possible uprising included the magic caster corps, or the lower-ranking soldiers themselves. The first group were only a few in number and hardly the equal of someone like Fluder Paradyne. They could be overpowered easily, even if subduing them wasn't going to be clean. There was a higher chance they would escape using their talents, but Zanac was content to let them be. There was a risk they would use their spells to target him directly, but he had been prepared for that. Still, he would have preferred them loyal, at least until the ambush on the Holy Kingdom's flank was complete. Their talents would still have some use then, as support for their efforts in battle.

That left the rabble. Their numbers would make them a threat. It was their numbers that lent weight to the threat of a rebellion by the commanders and captains in the first place. Without the aid of treacherous leadership, he was more assured of their continued adherence to orders. His adjutants had been ordered to watch the men carefully and see if there were any outstanding leaders who had cropped up, someone with charisma or with at least some semblance of fame or notoriety. Those would be the troublemakers that the soldiers would gravitate towards, leading to the sort of peasant rebellion that could not be easily overcome.

The last reports from his adjutants right before they'd started the operation had been positive. While there had been some problem cases they had discovered, their assessment was that these were too weak to try anything. There was the small risk that they could rebel, but only as a small, ineffectual band. Grudgingly, he allowed that there was still a risk that one small rebellion would inspire others, all uniting into one bigger mess, but he earnestly hoped that scenario wouldn't come to pass.

His other fear, and one which constantly lay at the back of his mind, was the bone-chilling threat of Ainz Ooal Gown. He obviously knew that the creature was not one to be trifled with. The Re-Estize Kingdom had already paid the blood-price for not taking it seriously. If the being were roused to act one more time, then he was not sure his beloved Kingdom could survive another war. One could not generally predict the mind of an utterly alien intellect when compared to fellow humans. Even the mind of his sister, whom he could rightly call "unfathomable" could still be comprehended, somewhat.

It had to be done. The mantra repeated itself in his mind. It had to. It had to. It had to be done. This was no longer just to assuage his broken pride. This was survival—he needed his Kingdom whole and healthy if he had to inherit it. He would not be known as the last of the Vaiselfs—the scion who fumbled the torch passed down his line for generations.

He was stirred from his brooding by his adjutant calling his name through Message. The adjutant was presently riding at the head of the army, at the first column. "My Prince," he said. "I believe we have just passed the halfway point."

"You sure?" Zanac replied.

"Yes, sir. I counted six crooked trees."

Days before they had arrived at Dakaru, Zanac had ordered a single outrider to traverse the forest that stood right next to the border. There, he was to break down the outermost trees within sight of the border, to make them stand apart from their fellows. Glinting paint was added for a final flourish. They were to be used as secret signposts to mark the distance they needed to cross before they could return into the Re-Estize Kingdom. In counting them as they rode past, they would be able to gauge the distance that was left to them.

He estimated the count and nodded to himself. It wasn't long now.

"Very good. Keep counting. At the first opportunity, break back into our lands at the earliest opportunity."

"Understood, my lord."

Just a little bit more, Zanac thought, gripping his reigns tighter.

Then there came a peculiar noise, like an arrow whistling through the air. He knew it wasn't his imagination, as several of the riders around him also started looking around themselves.

A light suddenly bloomed above them, illuminating the entire army and their surroundings as if someone had bent the sun's light towards them. Zanac cried out, his eyes all but blinded by the sudden flash of light. As he squinted, waiting for his eyesight to return, he heard the commotion of the entire army rumbling all around him.

"What the hell's going on?" he muttered. He was just about to unroll a Message scroll when he saw, far to his left, some movement in the darkness. It was as if the whole countryside on the horizon had started to move, like some giant creature crawling in the night.

---

Chapter commissioned by UltraSpink of Da USA, thank you. A reminder that the story is commissioned.

If you'd like a story commissioned, feel free to contact me here, or on archiveofourown under "RHoldhous".