Note: This story is a work of fiction. It has many content of adult nature. If you do not want to read such content, please close your browser window or press the convenient back button.
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.
Time was not on her side.
Tsaindrock Vaisian knew that every second wasted was one more that this Sorcerer-King, this Ainz Ooal Gown, could use to damage the world even further beyond repair. The Player's deleterious effect upon all existence around it could not be understated. Whenever a Player and their ilk appeared so suddenly in this world, their mere presence would warp reality to unfathomable, irreparable degrees. For every time their blasted shadows stretched out over the innocent land, a pall of night would fall, shrouding beautiful things to be forever forgotten in the darkness.
She knew the stories by heart: of how there had been many an age before her hatching, of how the wheel of time turned and drove the world with it, moving from age to age. There had been many creatures who ruled the world before the dragons: now gone, now forgotten save in the dragon's songs. And when the time had come, the age that had been promised to the dragons had also come to pass, and thus the world flourished under their wings. They had accepted that this "Golden Age" would not last long, that they too would pass, forgotten, into song.
Yet this Golden Age would not end that nobly. For coming swiftly through time and space had been alien creatures that knew not their place in the world. Those who brought fire and steel, who wrought unknowable magics, exterminated creatures long tended, and uplifted beings unworthy of the privilege. At first they were bewildered, and sought to study how these Players came to be. And then these self-same Players turned their sights on the dragons, and then the world knew no peace.
The dragons' age had not yet ended, but it was clear that the world was no longer their sole domain. And those who remained among her kind-most powerful among the dragons-had withdrawn to the far corners of the world, preferring to nurse their egos in self-imposed exile.
As the Platinum Dragon-Lord, she had inherited an important charge from her brethren of ages past. She was ever charged to protect this world no matter the cost. Everything within it must be preserved, good or bad; and any fell influence purged from existence. Ever would she be the gavel to crush those who would dare disrupt the world's harmony. She held to this duty with the same conviction as those mortals bearing a sacred calling in the name of their deities: with zeal unrelenting, unparalleled, unquenchable.
Therefore, in light of this duty, this Player just like all its predecessors, must be stopped, permanently if need be.
Now her remote automaton, a relic of bygone Players, charged forward like a shooting star, heading straight for the Sorcerer-King below. Beside her, Azuth Aindra, her pawn, flew for his own assigned task, straight down to confront a minion of the Sorcerer-King's: the lieutenant bearing silver armor.
In hindsight, it had perhaps been a mistake to have allowed this lieutenant to be near its master in the first place. It might have certain abilities that would prove troublesome for even one bearing an ancient Player relic, especially if it was also related to a Player in some way. She certainly did not need any more complications than was necessary, and this one was a very unprecedented complication at that.
But she would never have foreseen that following this lieutenant for many miles would have reached this particular situation. It was a stroke of good fortune, and she would not spurn the winds of fate for guiding her this far. And so, she would have to make do with the situation as best as she could manage. Luckily, the Sorcerer-King didn't seem to be aware of her coming, and so she aimed to achieve the initial advantage through a surprise attack.
It was no exaggeration that many things lay upon the success of her assault. The Re-Estize Kingdom's continued existence, for example, entirely relied on an overwhelming victory; as otherwise the Sorcerer-King was poised to destroy it in only a few days' time. It had already slipped the noose neatly around the Capital City, as she had already observed when flying around in search of the undead. She guessed that Ainz Ooal Gown had only been meticulously drawing the cage tighter around its prey, to ensure that it would completely crush the Kingdom after the final siege occurred.
It was not as if she bore any love for the Re-Estize Kingdom, as Azuth Aindra perhaps did. It was just a nation built by mortal hands, one like so many others. Flawed and inevitably fleeting, just like the lives of the humans who lived within it. It was doomed to fall and fail, to crumble into dust and be forgotten, as would happen to nearly all things in time. Such was the incredible wisdom granted to her by her ageless eyes.
But now, the Kingdom had become the fulcrum through which she would act against the Player's machinations, so she would not see it die. Not just yet.
Down below, the Sorcerer-King was surrounded by a small host of its warriors. They were a motley sort, consisting of several undead of various types and certain other monstrous creatures whose capabilities were unknown to her. That they were few in number pointed to either Ainz's supreme arrogance and overconfidence, thinking that none in the world could touch it here. Or, perhaps it was a sign that these minions were far more powerful than they seemed, and that their individual might could be equal to an army of certain strength by themselves. Unfortunately, she did not have the luxury of observing them further to ascertain the truth. The Sorcerer-King could make a swift escape to parts unknown, frustrating her goals immensely.
Therefore, the plan was for Azuth Aindra to draw the initial attention by engaging the distant lieutenant. With luck, the enemy's focus would be fixed on the man wreaking havoc, allowing her to trap the Sorcerer-King in magic of her own devising, isolating it from its minions or any other reinforcements. And in the case that the strange silver-armored warrior ended up being stronger than anticipated, then at the least it would be unable to lend its strength to its master once she had established her barrier without complication. She only needed a single moment's worth of distraction.
She was well aware that she was essentially throwing the mortal to the wolves, but she had long seen that great sacrifices were routinely made to achieve the best outcome. Though the man would not appreciate being used as a throwaway tool, she knew he ultimately had no choice in the matter. Part of his greatness had come from borrowing something she had given him. There were many like him who could have worn that Powered Suit in that exact moment. If he was feeling at all grateful to his benefactor, then he would do as he was told. Otherwise, it was very easy to activate the emergency protocols, and punish the man for his insubordination. Yet she would lay her hope on the barest glint of the man's heroic spirit asserting itself such that he would not need further encouragement to act.
In her opinion, the best-case scenario would be Azuth defeating the silver warrior and then afterward handily defeating the other minions, leaving her to confront the Sorcerer-King at her leisure. And then she would defeat the Sorcerer-King, and end his menace long before they could really begin. Dismantling his so-called nation was the next step, but that was for the far future.
Using eyes that could pierce through many falsehoods, it tried to discern if the Sorcerer-King had woven any enchantments or laid any traps around his small base. Many things that were invisible to mortal senses could be seen by a dragon-lord's baleful gaze, and even those used by Players could be detected—even if most of these were difficult to destroy. The protections that still lurked all over Eryuentia were a prime example. Since she had taken over that accursed place, she had long known about the enchantments that barred the way towards the innermost recesses. Yet in the centuries since the Greed Kings' demise she had yet to break any of them, even though the prodigious use of wild magic. She had contented herself with merely ensuring that no one else could attempt to break through the magic themselves, as slim a chance that was—granting monstrous powers to the average greedy mortal would be a disaster on par with any Player's machinations.
Through the eyes of her Powered Suit, she could find no trace of magical defense around or over Ainz Ooal Gown. It was an odd thing to see, considering the predilection for bizarre magical effects that Players were wont to carry around them, like a peddler dragging a wagon of oddities from place to place. She could see the effects of certain spells, so the creature wasn't completely defenseless. Yet none seemed poised to fight back against her, and seemed like everyday things it wore on its person.
Once more she entertained the thought of a possible trap, some form of artifice to draw her in by making this Player seem less threatening than it truly was. But no, she could not be distracted. Not when the Sorcerer-King was just within reach.
She cloaked her Powered Suit with invisibility magic. She flexed the Suit's limbs, priming it for imminent combat. Miles away, inside Eryuentia, the Platinum Dragon-Lord exerted its mind into sharp concentration.
"Do it," she announced, a moment later. She was addressing the mortal, Azuth Aindra, over the connection they shared. "Now."
"As you say," Azuth said smoothly. After one, brief moment of stillness, like the calm within the storm, his Powered Suit roared to life. Flames jetted out from all four of his limbs and propelled him as he charged downward into the fray like thunder from a clear blue sky.
At the same time, she also activated her Powered Suit, and shot downward, though with much less noise. It would defeat the purpose of Azuth's distraction if she herself came in loud and also alerting the Sorcerer-King.
Azuth Aindra's explosive entrance was as a sonic boom for those who would recognize it. But for those who would not even know what a sonic boom actually was, it just sounded a bit like the crashing of thunder close by. It was a jolt to startle the senses, even when one was prepared for it.
For a man as flamboyant and headstrong as Azuth, being this obnoxious with a fight really was just a part of his normal personality. In his youth, he was always the one relied on to start fights, to make sure that the enemy was caught off guard. There was never a better means of disarming an enemy's mindset than by being a handsome rake with a thousand little tricks up his sleeves. To undermine a stern countenance by simple wordplay, to enrage the stoic with a choice insult, and to seduce a pretty face with a smoldering look—those were the tools of his trade. Even playacting a bumbling fool had saved him and his comrades' lives on many an occasion, when even the most cunning brutes were left dumbfounded by his random, almost jester-like impulses.
Since then, he had come a long way from being that naïve fool, and had learned ways of power that were more "traditional" for a seasoned adventurer like him. He had mastered certain sword styles and martial arts, and had studied enough magic from many teachers to be able to cast a host of useful cantrips. He had even hired a supposed émigré of Ijaniya to give him a primer on assassination techniques, though he'd never yet had the chance to exercise them himself.
And greatest of all was his acquiring of an ancient artifact, described to be an armor that had been bestowed upon the servants of the Greed Kings themselves. The red Powered Suit had been a miraculous thing to behold, a technological wonder that the world had never seen before.
He had earned the right to use it after enduring a grueling series of "quests" for his then-unknown benefactor. His body, mind and heart had been sorely tested by the seemingly endless parade of situations that tested him one after another. Time and again he had been tempted to give up, to abandon the quest altogether. Thankfully, his stubborn noble's pride had refused to be bested by what he had seen at first as a vile trick. In the end he had been vindicated when the cruel trickster ended up being revealed as the Platinum Dragon-Lord of legend. The dragon had congratulated his success, and had then gifted him the red Powered Suit.
With the Suit, his chances of survival in the adventurer life skyrocketed dramatically, to the point that he could have reasonably replaced King Ramposa III's pet Warrior Captain and led the Re-Estize Kingdom to a conquest of the land if he desired. But the Powered Suit had come with the strictest of terms, and he had then understood that this was not a mere boon that was given freely. It was also a long-term form of employment, a contract that forced him to heed the dragon's words.
But even with the brute force that the Suit could command, he knew he could always fall back on his most basic of tricks.
And here, on this direst of battlefields, when he had been tasked with such a perilous duty by one grouchy dragon-lord, he knew he would not fail to impress. As he charged downward on what seemed like a death dive towards the enemies, he activated the various systems inside his miraculous Powered Suit, bringing its various magics to bear against the assembled army below. Fire flew in great unending streams from the armor's wrists and ankles, seemingly propelling him downward while wreathing him in a great cloak of flames. From afar he would have looked quite like a fiery meteor, and he quite liked that image to help intimidate his enemies.
It felt almost like cheating, for someone like him to be able to cast so much magic like this, and this without him being a devoted magic caster himself. Truly, the Powered Suit the dragon-lord had given him was a thing of the wonder, perhaps even created by gods themselves.
From his fingertips erupted myriad bolts of destruction, crashing down onto the enemy below with the eruptive power of a fifth-level caster's full unbridled strength. It was as if the armor was conjuring rocks from compressed masses of air and hurling it downward, each impacting the targets as if they were boulders of rock instead.
Arcs of lightning roared out lashing the ground with terrible fury. It was as if he was holding the whip of some vengeful god, and he was cracking it down onto his hapless foes without a care.
Further, there were blasts of multi-colored light, as of a rainbow, their multitudinous beauty issuing forth from his fingers to smash into the targets below with elemental fury. He had heard it said from his friends that the prismatic array conjured several elements at once—burning, freezing, or electrifying as they struck home.
To this arsenal of devastation was added even more. From his palms burst out streams of flame, repeated casts of Fireballs as if he was a dragon himself continuously belching out fire. It engulfed the enemies below, smashing into their gathered forms mercilessly and incinerating them in its fiery embrace.
Lastly, from the slits on his helmet emerged a literal stream of destruction, a feat only attainable by magic casters who had devoted their lives utterly to the art of unmaking things. Azuth could not really describe this particular function of the suit to anyone who would deign listen, for all that any accounting of it was as fantastical as the rest. All he could say was that it was as if a single ray of the sun's limitless light had been captured inside the Powered Suit, and thence refracted through the visor in his helmet; thereby bathing the enemies below in magic no less destructive than as if the sun had been hurled in their midst. But it was no hot ray that scorched them, no; this was as of a spell intended to utterly disintegrate without needing to incinerate at all, to turn things into ash without needing flames to consume anything. It was his coup de grace as Azuth Aindra, bearer of the Powered Suit, and it had been the bane of many a foul creature who had earned his ire.
In recent years, this tactic had been what had earned his adventurer group top billing for routinely clearing out demihuman infestations. Once the details had been hashed out with the clients, Azuth would then just simply fly over to the location of the targets' camps or settlements. Then he would unleash his full magical assault on them unawares—just as he was doing on this very moment.
If there were any stragglers or survivors, the rest of the group would then clean it up afterwards. And sometimes they didn't even need to mobilize if Azuth felt like killing some time to take his mind off of things. The Powered Suit was equipped with enchantments that gave him strength equal to a small group of ogre lords. Using the suit to personally smash in demihuman heads was a perfectly legitimate means of shaving off stress.
After firing off the first wave of attacks, he then focused the target of the disintegration spell right over an assembled line of soldiers, each making good target fodder for the ray of magic. The poor fools could but look up in confusion before the spell struck home—causing an explosion of dust and rock that obscured the battlefield. Azuth followed suit with a series of choice fireball spells, hurled from his hands in a rapid-fire manner akin to punching; which ended up igniting the whole field around his targets until a sea of flames formed.
Like a bird that had caught an updraft of wind, Azuth made a slow, coasting turn, to allow him time to survey his handiwork. It was yet far enough that retaliatory strikes from arrows or spells would be hard-pressed to reach him, and yet close enough to allow him to see things up close.
He could still see figures moving within the flames and the smoke, which meant that these strange creatures were still somehow alive or animated. He clucked his tongue. Well, getting a difficult job was bound to happen sooner than later.
He shifted his attention towards the silver-armored warrior, which had definitely noticed his presence. It was not difficult to ascertain that the warrior's attention was now fixed on him, as it seemed to have drawn its sword. Azuth greeted his intended enemy with a quick blast of the disintegration ray—the warrior being its sole target.
Another explosion rocked the field, as the spell struck home. Azuth took no chances and started firing off multiple fireballs on the warrior's location, all in the hopes of incinerating the bastard from the get-go, cooking him inside his armor as expected. And if survived, then the blasts would surely disorient it, softening it up for a second assault. If it was needed, then he could just head on down and engage in a good old-fashioned brawl.
Azuth looked around, trying to quickly ascertain his next move. While it was tempting to merely continue bombarding the area, it would also start completely obscuring his sight. Being too overzealous about it would actually be detrimental, allowing a token force to slip away undetected. It had been a particular failing of his when he had but recently accepted the Powered Suit, allowing his targets the time and means to escape and return with even more mischief. It was something he had quickly learned from and adapted.
The force he had attacked were gathered on the other side of a ruin that seemed to have been an old Re-Estize fort, which meant that the ones he had attacked had been right out in the open. The other part of the army was inside the fortress itself, and was near the Sorcerer-King, which the dragon-lord had wanted to engage personally. Would he need to give some sort of aid by striking the army in that part?
"No, best to focus here." The plan now would be to focus on doing as much damage here as possible. The dragon-lord had bid him to distract and possibly defeat the silver-armored warrior, and that was his goal. So, at the moment it seemed advantageous to draw the warrior away from this location, so the dragon-lord could have its contest with the Sorcerer-King without outside interference as it so clearly desired.
Thinking on it, it was somewhat likely that he had been sent to his death—unknowingly or otherwise—as he'd been given no information about his target. But it was difficult to second-guess one's prized patron, particularly if said patron was a dragon-lord. But he would have some complaints to spare towards the dragon after this, he would be sure of it.
The veil of smoke dissipated for a small while, allowing him to see that amidst the wreckage, his intended target still stood. The warrior's distinctive silver armor was immediately distinguishable in the haze.
Azuth wasted no time in immediately throwing up his hands and sending repeated bolts of power down towards warrior, hoping to disorient it further. He needed to test its resilience to magic—if it seemed completely immune to it, he would try and match it with strength and skill of arms instead. He was no great fighter, but he had been doing his training from time to time, and with the Armor's help he could stay on the level of his enemy through sheer strength alone.
Azuth flew over the warrior, leaving a parting gift of a few more fireballs below him. He hoped that would aggravate it enough, as of a bothersome fly flitting about a man's face, so that it would follow him away.
But then, right on that very moment, he detected movement below him. He was only able to pivot just in time to see a silver-colored streak emerge like a speeding arrow, heading straight right at him.
"What the—"
The Suit followed his mental commands with unerring exactitude, and was already moving even before his own body. The stream of fire from his ankles and wrists moved sideward, propelling him in a direction that was meant to take him away from where he thought the streak would pass through.
And yet, despite his and the Suit's best efforts, the silver-armored warrior managed to make contact. Before Azuth could process it properly, the Suit was already speeding away as swift as lightning, following his last panicked directive to flee. Just then, he realized that the warrior had actually latched on to the Suit's leg, using some sort of blade of all things. He watched it clinging to him like a barnacle. The wind whipped fast around his helmet, screaming bloody murder into his ear, as he struggled to kick the offending thing away. He could no longer be sure of where he was going.
And just when he realized that he was flying blindly, he turned his head around and saw the ground approaching fast—too fast.
As she watched Azuth Aindra and the silver-armored warrior careen off into the distance, she silently cursed to herself.
She had witnessed him unleashing his barrage of attacks, showing off what the Powered Suit was capable of doing. But the moment he had seen that his attacks weren't doing much good to the silver warrior, he should have started backing off then and there. Assessing the situation once it was clear that one was encountering difficulties should have been quite obvious to anyone with wisdom. The mortal had been a tad too reckless, perhaps, and that had led to the current circumstances.
But there was nothing to be done about it now, not when the opportunity was within her grasp. Disregarding the current circumstances, Azuth Aindra had actually succeeded in leading away the lieutenant in one way or another, and that should be enough. She can only wish the mortal luck with his endeavor, and hoped that he would at least come out on top against his ordained foe. Otherwise, it would be another headache to retrieve the Powered Suit to prevent it falling into the enemy's hands.
When Azuth's initial assault had commenced, the soldiers surrounding the Sorcerer-King had instinctively crowded around their master in a protective formation. As they assessed the threat, they had then moved outwards towards the perceived enemy, as was expected. That left the Sorcerer-King momentarily alone, and even he seemed distracted and oblivious to her presence, his attention arrested by Azuth's fantastical dives and strikes.
While still invisible, Tsaindroc descended onto the ground just close enough to see Ainz Ooal Gown's profile more closely. Then she activated her great draconic magic, the World-Isolating Barrier.
It was a grand thing, designed to completely trap a targeted enemy inside a particular zone with no means of escape. It was as a large, invisible dome, through which no feat of strength or might of magic could break through. Not even fellow dragon-lords could force an escape, and they would need to contend with her to dispel the barrier. It was as if the Barrier was making the small area into its own isolated world, one where the dragon-lord could fight its target one-on-one at her own leisure. In all the years she had invoked the magic, not a single one of her targets had managed to escape.
Still, it was not a completely infallible means of victory. In exchange for the barrier's ultimate indestructibility, it could not utilize any other means of prohibition. Neither hers nor the enemy's capabilities could be suppressed, and magics could still function, save for those that would attempt to interact with anything outside. The barrier also did not accord the dragon-lord any inherent advantage by enhancing her abilities. This was truly equal ground, and it only remained to test her and her target's mettle.
As soon as the barrier came up, the Sorcerer-King's attention was instantly turned towards her. Seeing as he was tracking her movements, that meant that he could see through invisibility in some manner; perhaps only after casting a spell on himself. Since it was obvious that subterfuge was no longer needed, she dispelled the magic. She raised her arms, and several brightly burnished weapons appeared around her, floating in midair and ready for her commands.
Ainz Ooal Gown's forbidding skull face betrayed no emotion, and yet it was clear that his interest was piqued. The fires burning within his eye-sockets blazed, as if with passion, though undead were not known to harbor such emotions. He stroked the underside of his bone chin, as if he was being introspective.
"Hoh. And at last, someone comes to challenge us. It would be boorish of me to proclaim that we were expecting this situation in particular, but it is true that we have certainly been expecting you," Ainz rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Platinum Dragon-Lord."
What? Her own Powered Suit protected her from betraying her surprise, but deep within her lair in distant Eryuentia the emotion rocked her to her core. The walls of the hidden city shook as her agitation rocked its very foundation.
How had this one known? Had she been anticipated all along, as she had feared? Had this been a trap to draw her out?
"You say nothing," Ainz Ooal Gown continued to muse, as she committed to drawing out her senses to see if a trap was being woven around her. "And perhaps you cannot speak. But perhaps it is also because you are surprised. Let us assume that is the case." He raised his hands and pointed a boned finger imperiously at her. The sheer arrogance of it almost made her snarl in anger. Still, she did not see anything outside the barrier that indicated that she had been tricked. So how had this one guessed at all?
"And so you wonder why it is that we have recognized you, though we have not ever met before. Fools would say that we have long anticipated your arrival, and perhaps there is truth in that. But alas, in this case, it is more foolish to accept that fact, for there is a much more apparent reason that only those self-same fools would also miss."
He chuckled, as if he was enjoying a private joke. "It is your pauldrons my dear. You bear the draconic insignia on your person. And though it might be said that you may have granted your armor and your favor on another, we can see with our own eyes that the armor is well-polished and is brimming with enough power to destroy an entire city by itself. That is no small thing to be granted to another, my dear. Thus, it is very much likely that we face no mere minion, but the Dragon-Lord itself." He bowed deep, as if he were extending courtesies at a ball. "Truly, I am honored."
Words could scarce express the fury that engulfed her then and there. And yet, she was no mere mortal to be goaded by simple words or acts. She knew there was something else, something that the fiend knew that had given him the information about her.
The draconic pauldrons had not been a stylistic decision, but she had chosen it among the lot she had managed to extract from within the Greed-Kings' vaults, for its apparent draconic motifs. For her, the find had been quite symbolic and appropriate for she who had resolved to become Eryuentia's keeper. As the years passed, her draconic armor had become synonymous with her, though she had never once revealed this connection to anyone but her closest confidants. She would not believe that any of them had betrayed her confidence, for even their present descendants were unaware that the draconic warrior that routinely patrolled the world was in fact an entity remotely controlled by a dragon. If they had kept records, however, that was another thing, and to have it leaked to this one of all people made the anger burn all the hotter.
"Bah!"
But she could not afford to ruminate, not now. Here was the enemy, and she would not miss her chance.
She brandished her weapons, then charged forward, straight at her enemy.
It had sounded like a good idea at the time. It had also looked rather cooler in his mind, like he had performed some sort of trick maneuver that few others in this world could replicate.
Yet as he stared at the fracture he had made upon the surface of the Power Armor, he felt a pang of regret. He had marred the smooth, polished surface of the artifact with his blade, piercing through it and using it as his anchor as the Armor's pilot careened this way and that in midair, with him holding on for dear life. He would therefore have to deal with this unsightly blemish in the aftermath of acquiring this crucial piece of equipment.
For there was no question in his mind that he would be acquiring this Power Armor for himself. First of all, it was conclusive proof once and for all that the tales he had heard from Zesshi and others were true: that had indeed existed Players in the past who had been just like him. Corollary to this, they had been transported here to this world from Yggdrasil, as he definitely recognized this Armor's attacks as the telltale features of those items in the game.
Secondly, he wanted the Armor for himself, or rather, for the Guild. The Armor itself was not really something of note. In Yggdrasil, it would have been something of little consequence for the members of Ainz Ooal Gown. aThe developers had not intended the Armor to be "competitive" in endgame. The mere fact that wearing it would disqualify you from wearing other pieces of equipment meant that it was only worn as a lark or as a challenge in lower level zones, because wearing it was like giving your enemies a free PK. It was certainly flashy though, and many of his friends did indeed purchase Armor for themselves; though the lack of their presence in the Treasury meant that they had deigned to deposit it there and instead brought it with them.
And so, acquiring it now for the Guild was just the same as if he had acquired any other piece of equipment from defeated Players in a legitimate PK or PKK scenario. It would become part of his victory spoils, and as a member of Ainz Ooal Gown he was obligated to honor that sentiment, even in this new world. This artifact was sure to have belonged to someone, somewhere, and winning it for himself—even when he had no intention of using it—was of utmost importance to him.
Finally, and quite obviously, there were the concerns for security, both to himself and to his lovers and their upcoming children. The danger these artifacts posed was very high, almost catastrophically so. The mere confirmation of their existence told him that there could be other innumerable artifacts out there, hidden or lurking, ready to be used against him and his own. And beyond that there were the World items, as well, which might well spell doom for his endeavors. Now, more than ever, it was important to consolidate the power under himself, if only to safeguard the future he wanted to build.
After a few more minutes of rolling around in the air, he felt the Armor collide with the ground. Ainz himself was thrown back, but the iron grip of his titan hands had ensured that he still held onto his sword. Accordingly, the sword was blasted backward, ejected from the Armor by the force of the impact.
Ainz was able to roll on the floor to recover, using several quick transformations to ease the effect of being disoriented. A slime was simple and weak, but it was nigh oblivious to sensation, and for a few seconds so was Ainz. This was especially important, as despite his levels he was still susceptible to dizziness, like any flesh-and-blood creature.
Thanks to his quick transformation, he bounded to his feet just a moment later, eager and ready to fight. He was already ready to receive some sort of surprise attack, some spell, or the Armor charging at him with a surprise lunge.
And yet he saw that the Armor, or the Armor's wielder was still slumped on the ground. They seemed to have been entirely disoriented, as if they were struggling to find which way was up or which way was down. The Armor made various clanking, clattering sounds, as if there were a whole bunch of metal plates rattling around on the ground.
The being inside made a roaring sound, and smashed a fist into the ground, shattering it into a web of cracks. It pushed itself upward upon that fist, gradually rising to its feet.
"If I'm not mistaken," Ainz said aloud, almost to himself. "I've just temporarily wrecked your flight mode ability." Four minutes, he remembered, from the time when his friends had gushed over their own Armor's features to him. Or was it five? Regardless, it was more than enough time for him to incapacitate whoever was inside and acquire the Armor. While its flight was not difficult to counter, it was still a chance for the Armor to escape, and that was a completely unacceptable outcome.
"Damnation!" the man inside the Armor said. In the next moment, something had appeared in his hands: something Ainz instantly recognized. It was a machine gun of sorts, similar to the weaponry that Shizu had equipped. That he should be seeing this exotic looking weapon meant that he really was on the right track. This really was an artifact of Yggdrasil. He felt a thrill surge through his veins as a smile came to his face.
As the machine gun roared to life, firing off its many bullets in a steady stream, Ainz charged forward on powerful legs, propelling him almost forward with nigh instantaneous speeds. He moved, confident that the Armor's weaponry could do nothing to touch him, as the data on his own equipment far exceeded anything an average Power Armor could do. Even the very best of that particular set of items was only about equal to level 80—a level 80 who would also have fewer equipment to equip in turn. That was the reason why, apart from playing around with cool "mecha"-based items, they were not taken seriously by an players who were at max level. He recalled a rumor that some other Guild had been wiped out after all its members had attempted to clear a dungeon using only Power Armor; several rival guilds had found out and had ambushed them to predictable results.
In addition, he was currently equipped with Perfect Warrior, the same magic he had used in his Momon persona, though wearing a different armor. The innate boost in his physical abilities, in addition to his doppelganger transformations, meant that he could literally see the trajectory of each bullet that was being fired, and could even see them flying in slow motion before his very eyes.
And though he could choose to dodge each and every one of these, he instead raced ever onward in a bullish manner. The bullets struck his armor like coins against a metal pan, rebounding uselessly. He didn't even feel anything as they struck—his armor still held, and thus he could not be stopped.
Within the next moment he had appeared next to the Armor, swinging his sword in a downward chop. The Armor moved out of the way just in time to dodge by the barest centimeters. It was remarkable that even with one of its legs completely damaged, it was still able to move by firing its leg boosters the other way to propel it. Witnessing that maneuver for himself, Ainz was awestruck by how cool it looked. A small part of Ainz wondered how it would feel to actually wear an Armor in this world—would it actually feel different than just casting Fly on himself?
As Ainz recovered from his strike, he saw a flash of something like lightning. The Armor now bore a whip crackling with electricity in one of its hand—or lightning element, most likely—which it swung wildly. In appearance it looked like a snake made of electricity, which again looked pretty cool. He had seen it fire off such lightning when it was flying—it was interesting to see an effective lightning bolt being used like a whip. It reminded him of watching his old comrade Ulbert Alain Odle.
The whip flicked out at an impossibly fast speed. Yet he saw it coming a mile away, and he pivoted backward in a move that seemed almost impossible to do for the average warrior. But his spine had been made flexible through quick transformations. He could have chosen not to dodge, because he knew the whip would have done nothing.
But he wanted to be just a bit stylish.
The Armor's wielder seemed surprised at his sudden dodge, but the flick of its wrists made the whip move suddenly, ready to lash out in another direction like a live snake. And as it cracked the lightning whip, its leg booster steadily moved backward, still trying to eke out some more distance from him and his blades.
Oh no you don't, Ainz thought, literally doing a cartwheel through the air to dodge a sweeping slash with the whip as he closed the distance further. He was literally flying through the small gaps the whip made as it twirled through the air, gaps which he was only able to see in slow motion thanks to Perfect Warrior.
Still, the abilities conferred upon him by Perfect Warrior did not make him a warrior in truth. He could not distinguish if the Armor's attacks with the whip were the elegant strokes and sweeps of a master or the wild, desperate flailing of a novice. All he could rely on were his instincts, now honed to a ridiculous degree, allowing him to dodge and weave around the whip, even when it was not necessary.
Still, his movements were far from flawless. And a whip's movement was hard to predict, even with all the advantages at his disposal. At the very last moment, the tip twisted in midair from sheer momentum, striking him against the back of his shoulder.
Predictably, the lash of lightning did nothing against the sheer protective data installed on the equipment. It made a small fizzling noise, as if someone had dropped hot water onto cloth. As he'd thought, the whip really was like a lightning bolt being weaponized—it surely was on the same level as an actual lightning bolt spell.
"Pretty interesting," he said, in a grunt.
At the sight of this, the Armor's wearer made a loud noise, almost like a shout of surprise, and stumbled back, the surprise making him momentarily forget that they were fighting.
Never one to miss so clear an opportunity, Ainz dashed forward, to continue putting pressure on the Armor. At the same time, he put his sword back into his inventory, and equipped another pair of weapons. It was a massive, double-bladed weapon, each blade marginally longer and thicker than his single sword.
He twirled it in his arms and struck at the armor quickly. As expected, the blade impacted against the Armor's skin with a loud clang, yet did no visible damage; confirming his suspicions that it was an Armor somewhere within the 60-70 level range.
The weapon he had drawn had been some low-level thing he had kept around in his inventory, and one which was also within the same level range as the Armor. Therefore, it stood to reason that unlike his first sword, which had handily pierced the Armor's surface, this one would not be able to achieve the same effect.
This made them the perfect weapons to use in an attempt to wear down the Armor's user, without needing to damage the Armor itself. It had only been a hunch, but Ainz was pleased that he had been able to choose the right weapon correctly on just the first go.
Having overcome its initial defenselessness, the Armor user had managed to correct its pose in time to start attacking again, swinging the whip around. Yet now that Ainz was so close that he could all but hug the Armor directly, it was no longer able to swing the whip around in an effective manner.
It couldn't even use the weapon at all. It was forced to bumble around uselessly as Ainz went to town, twirling the double blades and striking at its defenseless body again and again. He moved left, then right, going around the armor in circles and striking each time, making enough clamor such that the user inside was sure to be feeling each solid impact. He struck at joints, attempting to sniff out some form of weakness, each time making the user cry out in frustration within the Armor's iron shell.
Suddenly, right as Ainz was about to take another swing, the Armor's user shouted in frustration. They then pointed their machine gun, which it was still holding in its one hand, and pointed it directly downward. The resulting shot caused Ainz to pause, his mind wondering what the heck it was trying to do. The resulting spray of bullets against the ground did little more than scatter a few chips of earth, hardly even a scratch for a normal human to endure.
The crucial period of hesitation on Ainz's part worked on the user's favor. It allowed the Armor to boost upward on its remaining leg booster—along with its arms. From the looks of it, it seemed to be wanting to escape entirely, using the tiny window of opportunity to get itself out of Ainz's reach for even a fraction of a second. And it seemed to have paid off, as in seemingly no time at all it was already floating high in the air, albeit at an uneven pattern, completely out of reach.
And perhaps it would have escaped, as the Armor's speed really was something else.
Yet it did one thing monumentally stupid.
It turned around, and started to dive at him, fully intent on attack.
What an idiot, he thought. Not content with escape, it had instead turned around on its flight path to begin a bombing run against him. It seemed the user was a vindictive sort, or perhaps he thought being at his familiar element in the air would allow him to best Ainz since he could not contend with him on the ground. If that was his assumption, then he was about to receive one rude awakening.
Ainz focused on himself, and dispelled Perfect Warrior. While it was a waste to get rid of the transmutation effect before it had run its natural course, what he needed now was the full might of his potential as Ainz Ooal Gown.
He was no longer content to play around. He did not need to glance towards the strange, shimmering dome that had risen in the distance to be reminded that over there Pandora's Actor was doing his best. Therefore, it was his duty as the superior to also do his job and accomplish the set goals earnestly, without delay. He had exhorted Pandora's Actor and many other subordinates to never play around with the foe and instead go at it with their full potentials. Yet here he was violating his own words. That changed now.
Still clad in the silver armor, he turned around and faced the oncoming flying Armor directly. It raised its arms, and from them came several spells, some that Ainz even recognized. There were Fireballs, Lightning Bolts, even colorful prismatic rays. He ran forward and used the double-blade to deflect every single one. Even a great beam of death, which he recognized to be a spell of Disintegration, was batted aside as if it were no more than a baseball at the park.
"What?" the Armor's user yelled. He could hear the user's surprise so clearly. They seemed to be thoroughly flummoxed by his apparent skill.
Smiling grimly to himself, Ainz snapped his fingers, and in the next moment he had teleported a short distance away—straight into the sky right above the Armor.
In the next second, gravity helped bring him down, as he pointed one of the twin blade's tips downward. To his credit, the Armor user reacted quickly and twisted in midair, producing the machine gun yet again to try to blast upward at him.
Idiot, hadn't he learned? Each bullet clanked uselessly against his armor. Ainz then raised the double blade high into the air. He whispered a spell, infusing it directly into the blade. Then he flung the blade downward like a spear, as fast as his strongest arm transformation could manage. The moment the blade left his hands, there was a sound like thunder booming, as his thrown missile practically blasted right onto the Armor's form—right at a point on its shoulder.
Despite their equal specs, the force of his throw had served to help overcome the Armor's innate defense, and the blade tip handily pierced through the shoulder. Overcome by the sheer momentum of the throw, the Armor was blasted downward, until it slammed onto the ground a second later, Ainz's blade fully embedded in its shoulder.
Another moment later, Ainz had also descended, slamming his foot onto the helmet. Using that as a stepping stone, he flipped backward and whispered the command word, triggering the spell that had just been cast.
The spell that had been attached to the blade activated, causing the blade itself to explode with magical energy—from the tip of one end to the other side.
The resulting explosion then triggered the preservation protocol of the Armor—just as Ainz intended.
Sensing the danger to the pilot within, the Armor summarily ejected whoever was inside before any harm could come to it. In this case, Ainz's spell would have obliterated parts of the user's body, if not its entire form altogether. In the last split second before detonation, the Armor had sensed the inevitable and had ejected its user before the crucial moment, causing the latter to materialize a few feet away.
The mechanism of ejecting was just like in Yggdrasil, even to the point where the user was teleported a feet away.
Ainz heard the user gasping and wheezing, almost like the sounds of a dying man. He smiled and held out his hand, causing the blade to spring out from the crack it had made inside the Armor and fly right into his hand. He would have to thank Clementine later for giving him this idea after using it on him a long time ago.
After taking a moment to collect himself and take several breaths, he strolled over to take a look at whoever the user behind the Armor really was
It was someone he didn't recognize, but that was expected. It was some sort of aristocratic-looking fellow, of the sort he had seen plenty of times in his sojourn as Momon. In a way, even if their features were supposed to be "remarkable", to Ainz he was just the same as any human.
Though, it was difficult to tell if this was indeed some sort of noble or just a guy with a handsome-looking face. His face was bleeding, sweat was running all over his skin, and his hair was tattered completely. It was the very picture of a man who had been beaten soundly.
"What the—How did you—?" the man said, in-between pained gasps. His whole body was twitching, as if it had just been electrocuted or something. He was like a fish that had been unceremoniously dragged from underwater. "Who… are…?"
He said nothing, and merely turned his attention towards the Armor. He immediately cast his strongest spells of abjuration on it, preventing any sudden teleportation. It didn't hurt to be circumspect with such measures, as he was potentially dealing with a force that had access to Yggdrasil items. And knowing Yggdrasil as much as he did—which Ainz could readily admit was "not completely"—everything from here on out would be completely in the realm of the unknown.
When he was sure that he had cast all the spells that he was able to upon the Armor, he turned back towards the man. He had fallen unconscious, and his body lay still, almost as if he were dead. But to Ainz's eyes, he still retained his life, so he let him be for now. He was far less interested in the user—who was just an unremarkable human—than in the Armor itself, and its possible source.
With that, he finally allowed himself to relax, even for a little bit.
The battle was over.
He looked around, still running high on the adrenaline of the small skirmish. The scenes were still so vivid in his mind, making it impossible to claim that he had merely imagined it. He had really fought and defeated a Power Armor—almost like he was still back in the game.
After basking in the elation for a moment, his mind quickly came back to the present. There was still the matter of Pandora's Actor, whom he needed to assist.
As such, he opened an emergency Gate, and summoned from within a host of servants to take the Armor and bring it back to Nazarick. He turned to look at the unconscious user, and debated on whether or not to do the same. In the end, he set several minions to guard him, deciding to err on the safe side just in case there were some secret protocols that activated whenever user and Armor were in close proximity.
He did not want that thing rampaging inside Nazarick, particularly where the mothers would be. He was confident that Demiurge and his servants could handle it, but if it would ever come to that then it was already considered a complete failure in his eyes.
After giving the final orders, he turned and made his way towards the strange barrier, where another battle raged within.
He stopped by the forces that had been left outside, unable to assist Pandora's Actor because of the barrier that had been raised. Their default settings had been to focus on protecting "Ainz" and that was why they had not intervened in his fight with the Power Armor and had instead focused on trying to reach Pandora's Actor.
The fact that they could not get through the barrier did not stop them from making repeated attempts, such that they kept on trying to strike an invisible wall with every attack they knew—to no success. Ainz was able to observe how blades struck nothing and yet were repelled, of how arrows flew but rebounded as if they had struck against a bouncy wall, or of how spells fizzled when they attempted to pierce through.
He also checked in with the forces that had been struck by that Power Armor. He found that there had been no casualties, though it was clear that more than a few of them had taken some damage from the spells. It gave Ainz a twinge of fear—had that Armor been allowed to continue unchecked, it would have eventually claimed them using its hit-and-run tactics. And they could not muster a response—only the magic casters would have managed to land a blow, and judging by the Armor's durability, it would not have made much effect.
It made him realize that his troop was desperately lacking in things that could counter such foes. That was something to consider seriously for the next time. It was fortunate that he was here—he did not want to think about what would have happened if that Armor had been allowed to decimate an entire force all by itself.
He then reorganized the scattered group and gave them new orders as himself, Ainz Ooal Gown. They were to continue to keep watch in the vicinity, and see if there would be any unknowns approaching their area from outside.
Afterwards, he then went towards the edge of the barrier, and there found that he was indeed blocked off. Despite that, he could still see through to the other side of the invisible barrier, into the battlefield which it enclosed.
There, a battle was being waged—on one side was Pandora's Actor disguised as a powerful, forbidding-looking lich, who cast many spells around his level at his enemy. The opponent was a humanoid creature in armor just like him, and had several weapons floating behind its back which it used to attack and launch several beam-like strikes.
He tried to give the barrier a few experimental flicks. He used various swords, even the higher-level ones he kept in reserve, and found to his surprise that nothing worked. Rapping the edges repeatedly against the barrier did not do anything, not even a sign that he had struck something. He used his most powerful blades, including the ones he equipped while he was Momon the Dark Hero. None of them were able to penetrate the invisible field. He equipped his most powerful transformations and tried punching as hard as he could; punches which he knew could shatter bedrock and create a small localized earthquake, much as he'd discovered in the trip to the dwarven lands. It was utterly immune to physical effects.
He tried the same thing with a few spells, like a powerful Fireball or a ball of ice. He even tried teleporting through, and found that his spells failed when they tried to go through the invisible barrier, though he could still teleport sideways around the perimeter. If someone were watching him, they would have been amused or confused to see somebody just side-teleporting repeatedly outside the barrier.
That brought him short.
For a moment, Ainz wondered if he had done right in ending the battle with the Power Armor too quickly. Would it not have been better for him to prolong it as much as possible, to keep on hiding his own capabilities? He would have won by attrition; wearing down the user until it became too exhausted. The risk, of course, was that the Armor might have been able to escape in desperation, as it had nearly did.
If there really were others observing him at that moment, an ally of this enemy or even someone unrelated who would view him or the Sorcerer-King with hostility, then they would be seeing him as some sort of genuine threat. The intent had been for the NPC to bear that attention alone, as the Sorcerer-King. Yet now, because he had beaten that thing so quickly, he was also at risk of being under greater scrutiny.
Nothing to be done about it now, he decided grimly. At least he hadn't revealed too much about his capabilities, and had not even had to use some sort of powerful item. He had just showed himself a capable warrior, someone who could weather powerful spells, and had then used a teleport spell. If he was on the enemy's side he would certainly be noted as one who could be a threat, but they wouldn't have been able to guess the full extent of his power just from that display alone.
Having accepted that realization, he went around to search for a suitable vantage point where he could observe the fighting within the barrier at a better angle. Pandora's Actor had been given the means to record information for later perusal, but it was always good to see things for himself.
To start with, the spirited combat he was witnessing was a spectacle for the ages. He had been in blazing, high-stakes combat before, most notably when he had been fighting Zesshi Zetsumei. So he was familiar with the almost supernatural movements that occurred, each action defying the best that imagination could conjure.
Pandora's Actor as "Ainz" was doing his best to leverage the abilities he had given him. He was a near-perfect simulation of one of his most potent builds—that of a lich transformation with mastery over necromancy and undeath. Ainz was not typically on a "Damager" role. His command over illusions and deception made him more of a support during excursions with his guildmates.
But when push came to shove, he could cast more potent magic as well as any other—it only needed the proper equipment. And Ainz had been meticulous in gathering the best equipment suited for his lich transformation, which he would then need to pull out when his persona as Sorcerer-King was ever needed. It had the requisite stats to pierce enemy magical defense, without hobbling his need to transform if an emergency rose. This had been demonstrated all the way back when he had helped Jircniv win the pitched battle against the Re-Estize Kingdom using the super-tier spell. His stats as the transformed lich had been crucial to achieving the resounding victory—anything less and the spell might have backfired.
This Overlord persona was the one he had intended his own NPC to copy as part of his repertoire of abilities. Pandora's Actor had been given the means to emulate each of the Forty-One members, as a way for Ainz to commemorate his dear comrades with whom he had shared unforgettable memories. Later, that had given him the idea to assign the versatile NPC as a guard for the Treasury, as he would be able to confound intruders, though that was just a very distant possibility in Ainz's mind. (After all, Nazarick had never once been breached)
Still, despite the fact that he was able to copy Ainz's form and abilities to a degree, that did not mean he was a complete copy of what Ainz would do in any given situation. Where Ainz was slow and methodical, Pandora's Actor was bold and flashy, almost to a reckless degree. This was never more exemplified than this very moment, when he clashed with the unknown attacker.
Pandora's Actor twirled his staff unnecessarily whenever he stopped attacking. He also went on swirling his robe almost deliberately every time he turned to cast a spell. And the spells the NPC cast were almost always destructive in manner; little thought was given to the many ways one could apply even low-level spells. Ainz attributed it to a lack of experience fighting in that form—one would have needed to be Ainz Ooal Gown to know that he had a hefty collection of spells ready to use for almost any occasion.
The enemy, on the other hand, seemed to be handling all of these magical attacks handily. As Ainz turned to observe it instead, he watched as the weapons orbiting its armored form flash out to form a shield to ward off an attack, or to strike like sudden lightning to intercept a projectile coming from "Ainz". The enemy seemed to be used to fighting magic casters, and had a reaction to pretty much ever one of the NPC's attacks.
Ainz was sharply reminded of veterans from Yggdrasil, who had been feared for being the first wave of players who had achieved the highest ranks of Player-Killing. They were like urban legends among the community, lurking in the far corners of the world, always on the hunt. It was said that no matter how much one prepared, they would have their own preparations on hand for any situation. Magical specialist? Easy. A player with many weapons in store? Break them all. A speed type? Let them break on you, until they become exhausted.
Granted, this enemy was no elite Player-killer with a whole bunch of tools under their belt. But the fact that they continued to remain on an even basis with Pandora's Actor, even when the latter was holding back to an extent, meant that it was already miles above most of the enemies Ainz had encountered here. And that was already a troubling prospect. His attention focused on this one, trying to memorize as many details as he could: the draconic designs on the armor, the type and number of its weapons, how it used its attacks, and how it responded to Pandora's Actor.
It was once more a blessing to have the capability of shifting himself into whatever form was needed for the situation. Most of his eyes would not have been able to track the fighting within the barrier so closely. Only a few specialized transformations gave him the eyes to see things at an almost slow motion, allowing him to observe details a lot more closely. With the keener senses drinking in the whole struggle, he was able to assess Pandora's Actor as well as his enemy, this creature he had tentatively deduced to be the Platinum Dragon-Lord.
He had reached this assumption based on many things. First, there was the knowledge he'd gained from Keeno and Zesshi Zetsumei, who had told him of the existence of the Platinum Dragon-Lord, and of his penchant for appearing at key moments in history. Most often, he appeared during some grand crisis; which, according to Zesshi, almost always involved the presence of a Player. During these particular situations, the Player or Players in question would also disappear, which pointed to a grim possibility.
So, it seemed self-evident that this mysterious entity, which was clad in armor that could be said to be made of platinum, was most likely related to the Dragon-Lord in some way. In the event that it was not him, then perhaps it was a minion of his, but still nonetheless connected to him.
His second reasoning was the design of the armor itself. Whenever the figure paused in its movement, as it assaulted Pandora's Actor, Ainz was able to discern the clear draconic influence on the armor's design. The pauldrons were a dead giveaway, as were the draconic designs on the weapons that were floating behind it. Only some sort of "dragon-maniac" would devote his imagery to dragons in his opinion, but he was reasonably sure that anyone who could fight Pandora's Actor at an almost equal level could not be some mere maniac. Whatever it is, it certainly was not human.
(If he was able to get close, Ainz would have been able to discern its humanity immediately, as his predatory transformations were very useful in this respect.)
Pandora's Actor seemed to be struggling as Ainz Ooal Gown against the presumed dragon-lord, but that was by design. Already at four-fifths of the potential of himself, he was yet commanded to hold himself back as much as possible. This was in order to gain much needed information about the enemy. "Ainz" was only allowed to pull out the trump cards—including the World Item sealed in his possession—if termination seemed imminent. The plan was never to defeat this dragon-lord, but to exhaust him, force him to use up the last of its power. If it was defeated as a consequence, ready to be captured, then so the better. But Ainz was reasonably sure that it would flee, and while he was determined to prevent it, the esoteric knowledge he had gained from Keeno and Zesshi made him doubt if he could pull it off.
"Wild Magic".
This was the name given to the sort of miracles that the natives of this world possessed. Humans were able to draw on it, on occasion, and so too did the demihumans to various degrees. His dwarf contacts had spoken of it, and had even claimed that wild magic had been the root of their runic craft.
Zesshi's lore and Keeno's testimony had pointed to the dragons as the main wielders of the Wild Magic. They were said to be an ancient race who had ruled the world undisputed once upon a time, wielding that self-same magic. No one knew what happened since then, but the dragons had retreated from much of the world, and the dragon-lords were rarer still. With their disappearance, the usage of Wild Magic had also dwindled, which was the reason why it seemed like such a rare thing nowadays.
Wild Magic was said to be a wondrous thing, and was claimed by many to be even more powerful than conventional tiered magic. And Ainz could say that he had personally witnessed how they worked, as he beheld the wondrous barrier that prevented even him from entering, or Pandora's Actor from leaving. There was much he needed to learn about this Wild Magic, and today was as good a starting point as any. If his vision for the future of Nazarick in this world was to ever come to pass, then all obstacles must be managed; and if possible, eliminated.
Yet if that warrior really was the Dragon-Lord himself, then how and why was it here? Did the Dragon possess some form of "wild" polymorph that transformed it into this warrior here? But if that was true, then why did it need to do it, when its own natural form might be conceivably better? Dragons had been tricky things to fight in Yggdrasil, and the greater forms of dragons were trickier still, almost end-game bosses in their own right, sometimes requiring the alliance of several guilds to overcome. Surely a dragon "lord" would bring its entire power to bear and spread its wings. Perhaps its dragon form simply wasn't as powerful as Ainz remembered? Or was it merely holding back?
Ainz's thoughts turned towards the Power Armor he had captured, and wondered if the dragon-lord had also made use of such a thing. If that one couldn't fit inside the Armor directly, as that man had done, then perhaps he was able to control it remotely? It seemed farfetched, but it was a good possibility. If that was the case, then it was all the more important for Pandora's Actor or Ainz to not give themselves away, as the dragon-lord might well be hiding safely in its lair, free to plan their downfall if left to himself.
He stirred from his current thoughts when he noticed that the fighting had stopped. Ainz stared down towards Pandora's Actor and saw that they were now just standing there, facing each other. "Ainz" was leaning heavily on a magic staff, as if he was tired and weary from a long walk. The draconic warrior opposite him was wielding a katana-shaped weapon in one hand, and a spear in the other. Its other weapons were no longer floating, but were now scattered all over the battlefield, embedded into the ground.
It seemed that the two of them were talking.
Ainz transformed his senses in response, having anticipated this exact situation. Thankfully, the barrier did not prevent sound from passing through, which meant that his now hyper-sensitive ears were able to detect their conversation.
"… grave injustice," Pandora's Actor was saying. He sounded like he was out of breath. He wanted to slap himself—since undead could operate freely without air this was clearly an act. He hoped the dragon didn't catch him on the lie. "You cannot deny that your actions are that of a tyrant, oh great dragon-lord. You seek to strike me down, intervening with such a high and self-righteous manner in things that are sure to be beneath you. What business is it of a dragon-lord to meddle in affairs of us 'lesser' folk? To dictate to us how we might live in glory or die in folly? Would you also be looking to interfere in every sordid aspect of mortal affairs? Bring succor to the needy, justice to the corrupt? Are you seeking to rule over all, as a tyrant must?"
"How dare you call me a tyrant," the warrior responded, sounding heated. To Ainz, the voice sounded deep and mechanical, as if it was coming through some sort of voice modulator. Was that the Dragon's actual voice? "When it is you, foul creature, who have invaded this land, all in the name of your selfish desires?"
"Selfish desires?" Pandora's Actor repeated. He sighed, as if he was trying to take a deep, painful breath, but failing. "This action I have undertaken has not been to unilaterally impose myself on the Re-Estize Kingdom." He raised a boned hand. "It was made in response to the clear violation of my country's sovereignty by an armed force belonging to Prince Zanac of the Re-Estize Kingdom, if you must hear the truth. No agreement was made beforehand, no permission was asked. Should you seek proof, then we have the testimony of those who witnessed their invasion, and the testimony of Zanac himself, who has confessed his involvement in the plan. They had willingly violated the integrity of our borders, as had been established by the Pact that we had made following the war that had just occurred last year. A pact that had been signed and witnessed by both the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Baharuth Empire—proclaiming, in no uncertain terms, that the Sorcerous Kingdom's lands and territories extended thus, and that they were to be considered inviolate forevermore! And then they themselves violate this edict, of their own free will!
"This is not the way of things, as you well know—any leader who loves his nation will always ensure that their nation's dignity is not undermined by any means, or it does not deserve to be a nation at all. And so I was forced to muster my legions, to call upon the regretful, distasteful engines of war. Yes, I knew this was to be a dark and bloody road, yet how can I not when mine citizens whisper that they do not feel safe, that they fear their lives are under threat?"
"But in doing so," the draconic warrior said. "In your attempt to right the wrongs done to you and yours, you went too far. You have raised an army far greater than anything this continent has yet known. You have crushed your opposition through leveraging your despicable powers. If you truly were not aiming for complete and utter conquest and destruction, you would have turned to safer, more diplomatic approaches."
"Ah, but we gave them many chances to talk it out, to negotiate," Pandora's Actor said, wagging a finger as if to chide the dragon. "You must have already known that we had given them a great ultimatum after we had captured the Prince—who is still alive, should you care to know—asking them to negotiate for peace before war broke out. Then, through some folly of their own they chose to repudiate the suggestion, and even threw the Prince to the wolves by denouncing his claim to the Throne. No one else in their leadership agreed to negotiate, and instead told us to back off or 'face consequences'. And so, we have been forced by circumstance, to the unfortunate crucible of war."
The dragon was silent for a time, as if it was considering his words carefully. Then it shook his head, and approached Pandora's Actor, raising the spear in its hand. In looking at the NPC, Ainz realized that he was playing a weakened Ainz, who was on the verge of defeat. The dragon was surely about to finish "him" off.
"However justified yourselves to be, whatever wrongs you feel should be yours to correct, you still have a responsibility—as one who bears great power—to master yourself first and foremost. A responsibility most grave, and one which calls for us to do find a better alternative, even if that way is hard."
The dragon raised his sword high, with the tip pointed straight at the sky. "You could have chosen the gentler path. The harder path. Yet you chose the path that leads straight down to destruction. To homes and kingdoms burning beneath your triumphant banner. Yes, I have foreseen the images that are conjured by your conviction. Many a mortal has also dared to dream of better things for their own people, and yet in so doing reaped a toll so monstrous that they make the lands shudder from all the dead that has joined the earth. And graver still are the deeds of your kind, for they stain the very fabric of this world beyond repair. Of all the nations I have seen burn into ash, forgotten; of all the voices I have heard crying out in fear, in pain, in despair—none were ever perpetrated in greater scope by your vile kind. Never again! Ever shall mortal kind be fated to live and die, but it shall not be at your destructive hands!"
"And so, in your own words, I am forced by my own circumstances to act. In my duty as protector of this world and all its denizens, I am charged to deliver all its inhabitants from the predilections of your kind. I shall find no joy in this, save for the joy of a duty fulfilled. This is the way I choose to wield my power." There was a pause, and the dragon's upstretched arm twitched as if it was ready to bring down the blade onto "Ainz".
"Hold, great dragon," Pandora's Actor said, before that could happen. "You say that I lead my armies down to bring death and destruction?" He made a booming laughter, something Ainz didn't really expect his voice to sound like. "That is far from what I hoped to achieve in this war. You paint me as a heartless undead, and yet in doing so you commit a grave error.
"My wish was never to destroy or bring slaughter to all. How could you claim that, when you have not seen what I have achieved here? If you, great dragon, had flown with your wings and seen for yourself what has happened, you would not have concluded that my aim was solely to destroy the Kingdom."
"I have seen your so-called 'occupation'. And while I can admit that your treatment of the conquered has been better than most; that is still no real guarantee against what might come later."
"You would stake your decision to slay me on a supposition? On things that might never happen? Yet again, there is no justice in that! Know that I am a Supreme Overlord that stands over many undead, and yet unlike them I do not desire to end all life. You should not paint me as the sort of being who would bury a million dead for the insults of a scant few. Such a waste, a horrific waste! Only the cruel and the mad would ever do that, and I pride myself on being my own Sorcerer-King. Now in knowing this of me, you would still commit a grave error by slaying me?"
"I will not allow you to destroy the Re-Estize Kingdom," the dragon said. "Rotting though it might seem, I shall not suffer you to destroy it before its time is due. Let it fall as fate decides, not by the whims of your kind."
"That was not and will never be our intention," Pandora's Actor said plaintively. "However, from your words we can tell that you are most likely aware of the situation of the Kingdom itself. That at its current state of affairs, its destruction was still assured, whether or not we had appeared. But believe us, we did not intend to wipe away the slate. We were even willing to put Zanac on his rightful throne, though we both know that is difficult now.
"More than likely, with mine and my allies' victory, we end up forcing the Kingdom to crumble, and perhaps we would need to help manage the fallout of the many smaller dominions that will splinter from its demise. I will admit; that was part of my allies' plans in that eventuality. It would not do to allow the inevitable chaos to spread out and engulf the whole land. That would only make our duty to our citizens all the more difficult. And so, the plans also called for arbitration from the various surrounding nations, to help ensure that the relative balance of power in this land was preserved. Should the Kingdom really dissolve, then it is only because it was already on the way, and not because it was the desire of myself or my allies.
"Remember, it was they who declared war on the Holy Kingdom, and it was they who violated our sovereignty. All that has happened to them has ever been a consequence of what they themselves have invited. And so, in your self-proclaimed capacity as 'protector' of this world, would your power not actually be better used overseeing this transition? To ensure that the fall of the Re-Estize Kingdom, as inevitable as it has been, need not precipitate even greater, more regrettable bloodshed?"
"… You speak many words for one about to face his demise. And yet…" the dragon did not move. It was as if he had become some sort of statue.
Unfortunately, Ainz was no longer listening. Pandora's Actor's words had resonated in his mind, and it was as if someone had kicked a hornet's nest in there.
The first thought that came screaming out from the cacophony was: "WHAT THE HELL?"
What was this about a plan for dissolution? A plan for arbitration? What the hell did that even mean? This was the very first time he had heard something about this. All he knew was that they were conquering the whole Kingdom in a peaceful manner: if people resisted, they would be fought, but if not, then they would occupy them for the time being. Once all was conquered, they would force them into the negotiating table, and hopefully prop up that Prince Zanac, who would then become King, as he had promised. As King, Zanac would then sign a treaty promising to never bother the Sorcerous Kingdom ever again. Done! Everlasting peace, and peace of mind for Ainz so he could focus on other important stuff. Done!
(And maybe there were also some other details regarding how their ally the Holy Kingdom would get its due but Ainz figured he'd just be leaving that particular detail to others to figure out.)
He had been keeping up with the plans for the Re-Estize Kingdom, but he had never heard, nor less read about what Pandora's Actor had mentioned! He was definitely sure he would have done or said something if he had known all along that this was the "plan".
Was this a detail that he had overlooked? He had grown careless. Perhaps his preoccupation with managing his lovers and the future of Nazarick meant that he had not been paying too close attention to other details of the plans. He was sure that all these had been written down on a report somewhere that he had skimmed over, or that it had perhaps been mentioned off-hand somewhere during a briefing and his ears had completely missed it. Maybe he had been too busy checking out someone's ample buttocks during a briefing. Perhaps.
He wanted to kick himself for that. No doubt the sole mastermind of these plans was Demiurge himself. Or perhaps it was Albedo, who conceived the plan long before he had forbidden her from doing anything.
"Ah, I can't think about that now," Ainz muttered, shaking his head. Down beyond the barrier, the draconic warrior still looked poised to strike, though it had still remained silent from when Pandora's Actor had last spoke. It was probably reflecting on what the NPC had said; regardless, Ainz knew that he needed to intervene now or Pandora's Actor would be wounded in some way.
Now, how to break the barrier? From sheer instinct, his mind reached into his inventory and brought out one of the storied World Items deposited within its invisible storage. He couldn't prove it yet, but he was very sure that something as powerful as a World Item might be able to contend with this Wild Magic. They were things meant by Yggdrasil's devs to be broken, unconventional trinkets, and as such they had been exempt from much of that game's rules. If Yggdrasil's storied items had made their way here, and had been translated in new and unexpected ways, then the most broken of items should definitely have more of an effect.
Ainz Ooal Gown had laid claim to a significant number of such items, which had been the reason for their prominence as a guild. Naturally, he possessed one of these on his person at all times. Ever since a certain incident with Shalltear Bloodfallen, it had become very important for those of Nazarick to be equipped with World Items, in order to be protected from those that undoubtedly existed out in this world.
He hefted the red orb and placed it on the clasp that connected his cape to his armor. It was Ainz's own World Item, something that wasn't even shared with the Guild. With its presence, he would be protected from certain influences. In this situation, it wasn't too effective; but what was important now was its status as a World Item rather than its specific effects.
The World Item thus equipped, Ainz wasted no time in balling himself up, then rocketing forward towards the barrier with nothing but a prayer and a hope on his mind.
As he had speculated, the barrier did not hold under the influence of the World Item. He felt the sensation as if he had slipped through a clouded veil of water, though he felt no moisture on his armor. As soon as he had breached through to the other side, he continued onward, charging on his transformed legs towards the Platinum Dragon-Lord in a way that was almost like flight.
"What-!"
He did not give the draconic warrior the benefit of announcing himself before he delivered a quick uppercut towards the armor, knocking it straight up towards the very top of the barrier.
Flicking his wrist on that same moment, he activated the same teleportation magic he had used in the fight before, to appear right above the dragon's body at the apex of his flight. He pressed his hands together into a firm fist, before smashing downward with the full strength of the most powerful creatures in his transformation collection.
There was an audible crack, as he saw that his fists made a clear shattering mark on the pristine surface of the armor's surface. The armor was blasted downward, slamming straight into the ground with an awful, booming din. A thick cloud of dust erupted from the point of impact, causing rocks and other debris to scatter all over the place.
Ainz wasted no time and flicked his wrist again, this time teleporting once more. His destination was right in front of Pandora's Actor, raising his hand protectively over the NPC. In his other hand he summoned the dual-bladed sword from before, making a few menacing swings to emphasize his readiness.
Seconds passed, and the cloud of dust settled down and dissipated. Ainz there saw that a large crater had appeared there on the ground, and the warrior's twitching form could be found scrambling to rise from inside it.
After a beat, the draconic warrior leaped from the crater and stood directly in front of Ainz.
"How could… But the barrier…!" it exclaimed, baring its katana at him. Ainz couldn't read its expression behind its helmet, but it sounded genuinely surprised. "What are you…?"
It moved its head quickly from left to right, then back again, making a loud cracking sound every time, as if it was cricking its neck somehow. There was a small hole on the front of its armor, with cracks radiating outward, reflecting the place where Ainz had struck it. Pieces of the once-pristine armor fell off to tinkle on the ground. Ainz wondered if this particular Armor had some powerful stats, considering that it had resisted a blow from his most powerful transformation with just that. He had been hoping to knock it out completely, but somehow it still had the energy to stand.
He could feel the draconic warrior's gaze burn into him. The silence stretched on. Ainz couldn't just relax—any moment now the enemy might just make a move and he would need to respond accordingly.
"Hoh. I apologize for the sudden interruption," Pandora's Actor finally said behind him. "Ainz" had stood, and was now inclining his head slightly. "I've an overprotective bodyguard, you see, and it could not bear to see its master harmed in any way. I presume that with your appearance here that you've taken care of that other pest?"
The way Pandora's Actor addressed him seemed so authentic and convincing that even Ainz was taken aback. He almost responded, then remembered that he wasn't supposed to speak at all, as per the plans.
Therefore, he nodded his head.
"Ainz" clapped his hands. "Bravo, bravo, very excellent." He turned his head to look at the draconic warrior. "Well, as you can plainly see now, this match has been called. Looking at you now, we do not think you could match the both of us. After all, we have your measure already, but you have not seen all that we can leverage." He spread his arms wide, as if to indicate the greater world. "And your precious barrier, that you deemed oh so inviolate, has been pierced so handily. But, should you wish there to be a fight, then we shall certainly oblige."
The Dragon-Lord said nothing to that. It was as if he had not heard the NPC's words. In fact, its gaze was fixed firmly at Ainz. It was as if it was trying hard to burn every detail of his appearance to memory. He cocked his head at that. Had he figured out who or what he was or something? He felt a stab of paranoia at that.
"Ainz" continued to speak. "However, the offer still stands. If you wish, you could expend your influence on the Argland Council-State, or whichever nation you deem more suitable, and help broker the peace that will end this war at long last. We had yet no need to bring unnecessary ruin upon this Kingdom, and luck willing we shall never see it happen. But myself and my allies shall be looking to protect our lands most of all, so please take care to remember."
The dragon-lord still did not make any indication that she'd heard. Still, he moved and looked upward. Ainz could not help but glance up as well, though his fingers flexed over the hilt of his sword subconsciously.
Ainz sensed the barrier disappear. He did not see it happen, but the persistent, heavy sensation on his skin—perhaps a side-effect of a particular transformation that was attuned to magical effects—went silent. It was akin to the power on an air-cooling system running out, something he didn't notice was there until it disappeared.
"I shall think carefully on your words," the dragon-lord muttered. A moment later, light surrounded it, and then it was gone.
Ainz raised his brow at that. The teleportation had been so abrupt that he hadn't been able to cast a magic to track it. He reached out with his senses, trying to see if the draconic warrior was lurking close by and aiming for a surprise attack. But he found nothing. Somehow, the dragon-lord really had left, leaving him and Pandora's Actor alone.
"It is gone," he announced. For the first time since the initial assault by that Armor, Ainz allowed his shoulders to sag in relaxation. For the moment, the situation had gone back to normal.
Slowly, he took off his helmet. The face that showed itself to the world was utterly normal, exactly as it should be—if anyone was still observing them. The face he'd mimicked belonged to someone who was not in this world, and thus a complete non-entity if anyone was taking note. And of course, it was but one of many faces he had on hand to fool the unwary.
He turned to "Ainz" and sighed. "Good work," he said, communicating in the garbled non-speech of Solution Epsilon's kind. It was a trait he had discovered to be useful. No person on Nazarick could understand it, and it was a fair bet that no one on this world knew as well.
Ironically, he had discovered it when fornicating with the Pleiades maid. It had been a certain humorous instance where Albedo and the others had been confused as to the strange noises that they had heard coming from the baths. As it was an unknown to them, they had sprung into the room, only to find him and Solution locked in primal progress, while making those guttural sounds.
"Horrible", Neia had described to him. "As if the very voices of the netherworld had been speaking." For Ainz, Solution had only been squealing in pleasure as their forms melded together, in that unique mating method that only she could provide. He was still perfectly able to comprehend her words.
Before that moment, it had never occurred to him that language would actually be a good tool to preserve secrecy. Certainly, there had been no need to think about it, as everyone he'd spoken to had been speaking in a language he already understood. The only other way to mask possible communication had been through signs, symbols and jargons that would not make sense to a native of this world.
But his transformation into Solution's species had been an option he hadn't considered, as her speech could become utterly alien and unintelligible to others. Thus it had become a tool that Ainz did not hesitate to exploit, knowing the importance of secrecy. To that end, Pandora's Actor, Narberal Gamma and the other shapeshifters in Nazarick had been instructed accordingly to mimic Solution Epsilon while he searched for other potential species to mimic.
"My lord," Pandora's Actor said, his voice having changed to match him. "I have performed everything according to the set plan. The recording of my combat with the enemy has also been transcribed correctly as per your instructions. With this, I hope my actions have met with your satisfaction?"
Ainz scratched his chin, his head still swimming with thoughts about that dragon. Then he shrugged and said, "As I said, you have done well. I witnessed your performance in that battle, and I can safely say that you have acted completely within the set parameters. For that, you may be proud to know that you have pleased me. Very good, Pandora's Actor."
He raised his hand, hesitated, then placed it on the dome of the skull head. Then he patted it absent-mindedly.
"Uuuuuuhhhhhh!"
"What?"
The sudden noise that the NPC made stopped him. The skull face of "Ainz Ooal Gown" had dissolved, already half-reverting into the familiar egghead.
It was simply bizarre to look at, and Ainz was appropriately fretful when he said: "Oi! Pull yourself together! We're still on the mission!" If there were any invisible observers, they would have definitely been perplexed to see the head of "Ainz" melt like a burning candle.
"M-my apologies, my lord… I am simply…" There was a sound like a sob. "I was overwhelmed by the emotion."
Ainz could only sigh. "Yes, yes, very well. That is understandable. But stop that right now." He coughed. "Now, we must return to Nazarick. For an event of this magnitude, we shall need to debrief the rest."
"As you wish, my lord," Pandora's Actor said.
It took a little while to return, as Ainz elected to bring back the deployed army that had been in this place with them. He was tempted to give them a directive to hold this position. But this place was practically ground-zero for an important event now, and he had certain fears that it might yet attract attention; if not from the dragon-lord, but anyone else who might be watching. He knew the phrase, "lightning doesn't strike twice" but he didn't believe that one bit. In his experience, disaster was always lurking around the next corner, and that was the reason why he would always be prepared.
The discovery that the user of the Power Armor had disappeared when Ainz wasn't looking also contributed to that decision. He had been momentarily spooked when he saw that the man's body had been nowhere to be found. The ones he had tasked to watch over the body had no explanation to give, except to relate what they had witnessed: the body had glowed white, and had then disappeared. The timing correlated with the dragon-lord's retreat, so that might be related somehow.
He had contacted Nazarick then, and demanded to know if the Power Armor was still there. Thankfully, it was still safe and weighed down by his spells. After a minute's deliberation, he dismissed the man for now, after committing his face from his memory to his transformation catalog. At a later date he would be making inquiries on discovering exactly who had been assisting the dragon-lord with an artifact plucked directly from Yggdrasil. Perhaps it would lead him directly to this dragon-lord.
After the withdrawal through the Gate had completed, Ainz stepped through to return to Nazarick. The importance of debriefing the whole Tomb about the situation could not be understated—as the dragon-lord had made clear its intentions towards Players. Its presence as a hostile party that knew of the existence of Players meant it had become a number one target, especially when it wielded a certain power that could almost rival that of an actual Guardian. Unfortunately, he could not just withdraw Cocytus at this point in the campaign, no matter how much his instincts wanted him safe inside Nazarick.
But even if the complete withdrawal of Nazarick's forces from the Re-Estize Kingdom could be managed in less than an hour, that would just be detrimental to all that they had been working towards all this time. Plus, there was that aspect of pride to consider—Ainz Ooal Gown did not retreat unless it was completely hopeless.
Cocytus therefore would remain the lightning rod to attract any more interested parties other than the dragon-lord. He was competent enough as a Guardian to be entrusted with a full complement of Nazarick's best minions as his escorts, along wih numerous contingencies. He hoped that would be enough.
He'd sent Pandora's Actor ahead to the upper floor to assemble those who could be gathered.
As he emerged from outside the teleportation chambers, he spotted a certain figure in the distance ahead.
"Neia?"
"Hyaah!" The diminutive blonde yelped and turned around. Her frightened face quickly bloomed into happiness when she saw him. "Ainz-sama!"
The sight of the pregnant Neia Baraja, her once doubtful face framed by an ethereal halo of motherly bliss, made Ainz pause. Then, a moment later, he had marched forward, his feet walking independently of him as he swept up the smaller woman into his embrace.
"Hii-!"
Neia's limbs braced in his grasp, then relaxed when he brought her face up to his own and kissed her. It was long, deep, and soulful, and he drank of her mouth as if it was delivering delicious, thirst-quenching water into his parched throat.
Needless to say, the kiss escalated into something more as Ainz's passions soared. And Neia certainly didn't protest when he pulled up her mother's robe to gain access to her lower mouth, which was now dripping heavily with her sweet nectar.
She was ready, and so was he. He carried her straight into the corner of the hall, pressing her against the far corner and covering her entire body with his bulk. When he plunged his hot manhood inside her slick crevice, the two of them groaned at the sheer bliss of being reunited.
"Ainz-sama… mmmhhh… haah… Ainz-sama… missed you… I missed you...!"
He showed her exactly how much he missed her not in words, but with slow, passionate urgency of his thrusts. He took care not to go too hard or fast, as this was a delicate time in the pregnancy.
It had been a long and stressful pair of days ever since Nazarick's deployment. While his return had been intended to be a brief respite to inform the Tomb about the dragon-lord, he supposed he could not be blamed for wanting a little more time to spend with his mothers. He missed them all: their bodies, their beauty, their pussies—as Lord of Nazarick he knew he was entitled to live a little, even for a little while.
And of course, it would be the perfect time for him to be there for Zesshi Zetsumei when the Firstborn would arrive at last.
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".