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.
The fires burning in the Elf Country's capital city continued to rage, even when the siege was already over. The baleful glow of destruction lay reflected on the nearby lake's surface, its once pristine waters polluted by blood. In many places, the once beautiful buildings had become charnel pits of devastation, the indomitable masonry, once woven with ancient magics, melted down by the determined fury of the invaders. The smoke from the ever-present burning rose to become a heavy pillar that wafted into the sky, which could be seen from many leagues in the distance.
Its defenders had long been slain or captured. Corpses littered the streets, their blood flecking the marbled causeways. Yet none of the dead were innocents butchered needlessly by the humans. The Theocracy was in a fury, but it was not senseless. Those who survived or surrendered were being rounded up and sent off into a nearby encampment in chains. Some few would be shipped off and sold off to the highest bidder, while others would be spared if they were pliable, preserved for some purpose the Cardinals had not yet deigned to state. There would be no incidents of rape and abuse: for though the elves were fair to the eyes, the staunchest sons and daughters of the Theocracy would never sink so low as to mingle with the inhuman.
There were few elves who had opted to flee when the fighting had been at its highest, taking nothing but their own lives and their loved ones to run heedless into the surrounding forests. Elite tracking teams were dispatched by the Theocracy forces to hunt these down, to ensure that the capital's sack would be considered "complete". The possibility of an armed group reappearing to bedevil the victors in succeeding years was too low as to be considered insignificant; but it did not hurt to be prudent and thorough with such matters.
The grand Palace near the center of the city had been mostly spared from the ravages of the previous siege. Its walls had been protected by almost impregnable enchantments, which warded off the more grievous damage from the missiles and giant spells being lobbed onto the city. But with its majestic doors splintered and its entrance bared for all to enter, and a veritable host of valiants marching unopposed through its halls, there could be no doubt that it was just as defeated as the rest of the city.
The mood of the invading soldiers was generally jubilant. Through much toil and blood they had managed to wrest victory on this day, and finally laid low their long-time nemesis the Elf King. While the rank and file didn't get to see the Elf King defeated with their own eyes, they were assured by their commanders that the deed had been done. And indeed, there was no better proof to the success of the deed than the complete absence of the Elf King himself. For though they reviled him as an enemy that should be rightfully defeated, they also rightfully feared his incredible power, even if heard only through hearsay and rumor. They gave praise to the gods for their lives being spared the fate` of facing the Elf King during the siege, who might have reaped a terrible toll during the decisive battle.
This sentiment was even shared by those who had been tasked with eliminating the Elf King. As great heroes who had been trained to accomplish this deed, they knew more than anyone its immense gravity, as well as the amount of blood that would have to be spilt. They foresaw their own bodies falling in heaps, or see dearest friends torn apart by foul Elven magic. Those who had heard the latest dispatches of how the King had summoned a terrible elemental to obliterate a unit certainly felt such trepidation.
They had torn through the city's defenders, making a direct assault on the Palace's front gates. There they decisively beat the gate's defenders, and were prepared to weather the King's sudden arrival. They took some time to breach the gate itself, using various tools and artifacts that only a few were privileged to know.
They now rejoiced that such a task had already been fulfilled. And even more, that it had been done by none other than their God, Sursyana, seemingly returned. It was like divine judgement had come to smite their enemies for them, bringing with it a salvation they did not expect, though they nonetheless welcomes wholeheartedly.
Such good feelings, such gratitude, was not one that was felt by the One who had taken care of the Elf King in the first place. Well, to be technical, it had not been him who had fought that bastard, but it had been his will that had led them to this point. It had been he who decided to make a detour on their return home, to swipe the Elf King's treasures from the vault. It had been he who had allowed Zesshi Zetsumei to face her destiny. And it had been him who had been foolishly caught here inside the Palace, as of a child who had been caught doing something naughty.
Now, thanks to incredible circumstance, his previous plans were threatening to unravel. And all these people, completely oblivious to his thoughts, now surrounded him in all their cheerful ignorance. Currently, he and Zesshi were being herded through the Palace and out towards a central area by all these "Scripture" people who had come to take the Elf King's head. He thought he could blame the doppelganger for this, for having neglected to mention this fact; yet it might also have been mentioned in a report somewhere, a report he definitely neglected to read.
He and Zesshi were still holding hands, stuck in that position ever since their discovery by these humans. It had been far too late to let her hand go without arousing suspicion. And judging by her expression, she was rather happy about the whole situation.
That blonde he had met before, and who was apparently the leader of this group, was talking to Ainz from the other side while they continued to walk. He was asking him so many inane questions that even he was finding it hard to humor him by answering them. There were such things as "How did you manage to slip inside the Palace defenses", or "Where might the Elf King be", "Why did you hide your presence," or "What is your true purpose here, oh divine lord" and so on—questions which he really couldn't answer with the barefaced truth. How the hell was he supposed to answer half of these, without giving away his full capabilities? It was like some idiot novice pestering him in Yggdrasil for tips, except this wasn't a game where he could just block someone permanently.
Well, there was admittedly one option to "block someone permanently", if he really wanted to. But did he really want to start slaughtering his way out of this mess?
So, for the time being, he had to give half-hearted replies and half-truths to the man, to ensure that he couldn't get caught out with making a lie later on.
They now walked out into the city proper, where Ainz could see the effects of the siege with his own eyes. It was not his first time seeing a city in ruins, and a lot of it did remind him of what had happened at the Re-Estize Capital. Ever since he had seen the latter personally, the effects on him were slightly diminished. He wondered why; it was as if nothing much mattered anymore except for Nazarick and the prosperity of his own children.
The small crowd surrounding him were accosted by several other groups of soldiers from the Theocracy, who looked with confusion at him and Zesshi at the center—who were still ostensibly holding hands. They were told to stand aside and follow after them. Apparently, their destination was not any place within the city, but at the camp they had established outside of it.
Ainz was keenly aware he was almost being paraded around in front of all these people. Most of them didn't know that he was their "god", and only saw him as something of a curiosity. All of them now saw his face—at least the face he wished to present to them.
Then, after walking through literal blazing ruins, they arrived at one of the Theocracy's camps, just on the outskirts of the city. It was a large camp with many tents, as one might expect. They went to the largest one, which he guessed was the command tent. A tall, muscular figure wearing the same colors as the blond elbowed his way through the flaps. He squinted at the whole lot of them for a few seconds, appraising them, before grinning at the blond.
"When I heard the report, I couldn't believe what I was hearing," he said in a booming voice. "Half the Black Scripture hasn't even completed most of their objectives yet, and already we've got news that the city's already fallen. It's a far better outcome than we've ever anticipated." He glanced over at Zesshi pointedly. "Was sending her just overkill then? We'd prayed to the gods that the elf would keel over in a breeze, but it's really surprising he actually did."
"Magnus, it is good to see you well. But please, do keep your voice down. You are currently walking in the presence of the divine," said Quaisse.
Then the man's eyes went to Ainz. He blinked once, then twice. He looked at Quaisse. "Wait, is he…?" The blond quietly nodded.
"M-my most sincere apologies, Sursyana-sama!" the man named Magnus said, immediately kneeling to the ground. "I, no, we had not expected to see you come before us! I am the 10th seat, Magnus Zephyr Ryota, at your service!" At the sound of his words, all the rest within earshot also kneeled, causing a chain reaction of people's knees slamming to the ground as the words circulated. Only those who had already kneeled to him before stood, including Quaisse.
The blond moved forward and told the muscular man, "You were wondering how we were able to accomplish the foremost objective with relative speed and ease? Well, look no further! We prayed to the gods fervently for their protection, and we were blessed that one of them answered! For lo, our god has returned to us, at long last, revealing himself at a time when his followers needed him most. He struck down the Elf King with ease, banishing his unworthy soul to the void, and in the process, saving many of our lives from being thrown away."
"Ooooh!" There was a chorus of exclamations to that.
"We had heard that he had been refusing to answer any of our queries to him," Quaisse continued, "And now we know why. He had been planning to intervene here all along, and chose this exact moment to reveal himself to us, as Scripture once described our exalted Gods."
There was another chorus of "ooohs" and "aaahs", sounds which made Ainz seethe inside, wanting to slap himself on the face. The situation reminded him too much of Nazarick, and it was just as insufferable. And that was on top of the fact that he really couldn't consider these humans on the same level as those who came from Nazarick. They were outsiders, people created by other Players.
Then he felt Zesshi's hand squeeze his, and he glanced to the side, seeing her smile gently at him. His heart felt lightened at this, as he was reminded that she was one of those descended from a Player, and yet she had given him countless joy. For her sake, well, he could at least see this idiotic situation through.
She then looked out towards the rest of her "fellows", her expression turning blank and serene. "Zesshi Zetsumei, reporting. It is my honor to report that the mission to suppress the Elf King has been… a success."
"Zesshi Zetsumei…" the muscular man started to say. "'Twould be rude to ask, but the question must be made. Is he… are you…?"
"What?" She glanced pointedly towards their hands being held together. "Ah, you lot wish to inquire about something that should be patently obvious?"
"Aye," came the reply. "We all know what you're like. So did it really happen? Did Sursyana best you in combat? Or rather, did you actually fight?"
Zesshi narrowed her eyes. "I feel as if you're being extraordinarily rude to me. But I shan't hold it against you fools. In this case, I shall be grateful enough to answer." She drew closer to Ainz's side, and stared out with haughtiness towards the crowd. "As you may have already guessed, I did indeed challenge the god, who revealed himself to me as Ainz Ooal Gown. That he was able to best me so readily, so easily, should come as no surprise. I only later that I realized this was actually because he was an actual god."
There came a chorus of murmurs at that. Some of it were astonished that Ainz had so easily defeated Zesshi, and that it was actually proof of his claim. Others were muttering darkly against Zesshi, apparently unimpressed at her attempt to actually fight their god.
"So then… when you got in first to fight the Elf King, all you found was the Master? Oh, it is unfortunate that we missed that!" Quaisse exclaimed.
Ainz also noted that barring the actual time in which it occurred, Zesshi was technically telling the truth. Though he could sense that there was something wrong with the timing. Surely not even a god could have fought Zesshi, beaten her, got her to gush over him, then make him agree to become her husband, all in a few minutes' time? These people had only just arrived minutes behind the Zesshi doppelganger, or so it appeared. It had been Ainz who had grossly underestimated the time, and had ended up delaying too much to get caught.
"Well, knowing Zesshi, it makes sense that only one of our Gods could manage to beat her in the end, therefore fulfilling her nigh-impossible requirements for a husband. So one could rightly say that only a God was truly worthy of this woman right here, outright accomplishing the impossible," the muscular man said, clucking his tongue.
Quaisse butted in, exclaiming, "Well, it only makes perfect sense that Zesshi was destined to be the bride of a god all along! It is, shall we say… no, there really is no other way to describe it. It is fate; has long been destined that this should be so!"
Yes, he definitely wasn't liking this blond, Ainz thought. He was talking almost exactly like one of the Nazarick NPCs, which was rather disturbing to consider.
"Yo, Zesshi, what is that thing you're carrying? I don't remember you holding that an hour ago," the muscular man asked next. All eyes went to the sword sheathed at her side. Another detail he could not take care of, not without arousing suspicion. Quaisse would have questioned it if Ainz had told Zesshi to stash the sword somewhere. "Could it be…?" Once more, all eyes went to Ainz.
Zesshi coughed lightly. "Yes, once again, it is as you suspect. This is a… gift, granted to me by my lord." She undid the great Takemikazuchi Mk.8 and raised it above her head, displaying it for all the crowd to see. The crowd burst into exclamations, mesmerized by the sight of what they might have thought to be some sort of divine artifact.
Quaisse stepped closer to him, clasping his hands together and bowing. "My lord, it is imperative that you must return to the country as soon as possible, and meet with the wise Cardinals. The entire nation awaits the return of its rightful ruler. Please, we implore you, return to rule us once more."
Ainz's smile was not truly a smile, merely a quirk of the lips as he struggled to find a suitable response to that sort of entreaty. He was all ready to make another excuse, to gently let the other party down and push this decision to another day—to another Ainz. Right now, the only important damned thing on his mind was to return to Nazarick, to the triplets he had left behind; and not to be ensnared in all this business with the Theocracy. It was all a right headache, and something he had always been loathe to touch.
Apparently, something of his expression must have been obvious to those watching, as Quaisse immediately prostrated himself on the ground, his forehead practically kissing the soil. "Oh lord and master, though we know it is but impudent of us to demand anything of thy exalted wisdom, pray please forgive us our weaknesses. Since the great Six left us, we have been left, wandering and blind in the wilderness, bereft of guidance if not for the teachings you have all left us. And thus we implore—no, as this humble servant, alone, implores; let me petition you, oh merciful Sursyana, please heed my humble, impudent plea: please return and announce yourself to all of us."
The begging should have tugged at his heartstrings, but all it gave Ainz was an intense feeling of annoyance. It was bad enough seeing Clementine's features in the blond, but to actually have to face all this fawning and worshiping head on was a big damned pain. And he was not the only one looking at him with eyes of awe and wonder. Most of the crowd surrounding him were also staring at him as if he were the answer to every one of life's problems. The pragmatic side of him was aware that such worship would be useful as a tool, but on this moment he was completely out of his element. He had no intention of receiving such unilateral adoration, no matter who it came from.
Though on a second glance, he could tell that all this starry-eyed excitement wasn't a universal thing. He could sense that a few certain others were staring at him with small frowns on their faces. Clearly, they were doubting the claims being made in their heart. Ironically, Ainz regarded these exceptions much more favorably, for having minds that had not been so easily swayed by their fellows. He wanted to praise them publicly for demonstrating such initiative.
But what should he really be doing now?
Could he really go along with this ridiculous charade of pretending to actually be one of their Gods? From all he had read, all he had heard and all he had witnessed so far—these Gods were actually fellow Players from Yggdrasil, who had also found themselves unwittingly transported to this new world. Separated by a great gulf of time between their arrivals, Ainz could only imagine what those guys must have felt like, to be so suddenly thrust into a situation like that. He was lucky that he'd had Nazarick around him for support. If he had been alone, it was very likely he'd have gone mad after a while. Apparently these guys had ended up making their own nation, as Ainz would eventually do.
And though they could be similar, such that Ainz could reasonably pretend to be their gods returned, putting on such masks of falsehood would be an extra troublesome thing for him to do. It would be another layer of security he would have to account for, and that was not to mention the fact that failure in this case was so catastrophically likely. If he said or did anything wrong that somehow managed to reveal the truth of what he actually was, then that was it. He didn't know enough about those other Players to be playing a game of pretend for so long.
On the other hand, the benefits of playing along with the charade and "becoming" the God these people wanted were immense. It was another country so effortlessly brought to heel. And with Nazarick's influence amplified, he could simply start disassembling the whole place in secret over time, until there was no longer a need to put on the charade. In the process, he would have access to whatever treasures the Theocracy hid within its heart—no doubt legacies of the six Players left behind, all ready for him to claim for Ainz Ooal Gown.
For Ainz, everything had come full circle. His decision to claim the treasures on that fateful day had led to his meeting Zesshi. And that, in turn, had led down the intervening time towards this particular day, on this moment. He had failed to get his hands on the treasure, and he had deemed it acceptable, for in exchange he had been able to acquire another treasure that was even better. Yet now, a long time after the fact, it would be given to him freely, if he accepted being their "God".
Ainz was really tempted to promise, "Alright, I will go to your leaders, but I shall leave to do something else first." He really wanted to go home first. But he had a feeling that doing so would only make those who doubted him still become even more skeptical of his claims. And that seed of doubt, sown so early, would just become troublesome for Nazarick years down the line.
And then, as if she had sensed his thoughts, Zesshi squeezed his hand tightly, causing him to look at her in puzzlement. She smiled at him, then closed her eyes, as if she was listening intently to something. A moment later, he heard her voice in his head—and realized she had just cast a Message spell silently.
My love, surely you must accept.
Zesshi…he responded. I… do not know if this is really the time.
My lord, forgive me for saying it, but this is exactly the right time.
What?He wanted to say that out loud. He was surprised that Zesshi would even suggest such a thing. But I wanted to go home. To see the triplets again!
Indeed. Believe me when I say that I also want it very much, my love. And yet, as you once told me before we came here: we now have an opportunity in our hands, and in your words, we would be fools to squander it.
It was strange having his words thrown right back at him like this. I'm surprised, Zesshi. I wouldn't have expected you to side with the Theocracy like this.
Believe me, my lord, it is not out of any lingering affection or loyalty for the nation, Zesshi replied, her mental voice sounding like she was scoffing at the very notion that she was attached to her country of birth. But I am thinking about your ability to wield influence over these people.
I had considered it, Ainz allowed.
It will only be for a few days, maybe even less, Zesshi continued. Just some time to put on a show for these deluded fools, make them think that you really are who you say you are. And by the end of it, you will have secured an iron grip over the Theocracy.
He sighed to himself. He thought about it for a few more seconds, agonizing over the choice in his own mind. Then he said, in conclusion, It is fortunate that you are here, Zesshi. I would not have been so decisive if you hadn't been. Maybe I could have even chose another path.
I am ever at your service, my love. Forever and ever. The spell terminated, though none other would ever know or realize that a conversation between the two lovers had ever happened at all.
And with that, Ainz placed his finger to his forehead in a dramatic fashion, as if he was concentrating hard and trying to focus his mind on something. This was only for show, for the sake of those who were watching.
When he transformed his body, it was as easy as forcefully blinking his eyes, or willing his manhood to harden.
And there, standing in the center of the group, stood the overlord Ainz Ooal Gown. Everyone gasped at his sudden presence, as he loomed above them, his countenance no longer that of a normal human, but that of the lich that had struck fear into the Re-Estize Kingdom with his armies. Zesshi's hand was now held in his skeletal palm, a somewhat grotesque parody of their handholding just a few moments before.
And then, in a voice that he hoped was deep and commanding, just as he had done when he spoke to Jircniv, he said to Quaisse, "With such heartfelt entreaties such as these coming from thee and thine, then we have no choice but to answer in like manner. Come then, let us return to your home, that we may reveal ourselves at last."
He was thinking that he had overdone it just a bit, that he had been a little too dramatic, or that he wouldn't be taken seriously at all. Then to Ainz's surprise, Quaisse quite literally burst into tears, his bawling loud enough to echo throughout the mostly silent camp.
"Oh, my lord, thank you, thank you! We are very grateful for your consideration!" The man stepped forward and grasped Ainz's, not seeming to mind that it was a skeletal hand. On the other hand, Ainz did mind that the man's hands were slick with tears and whatever else disgusting thing was coating it—not even the excuse that his hand was skeletal would assuage Ainz. He would have to make a thorough cleaning job on it later.
At the sight of his undead form, the other humans of the crowd gathered closer around him, shouting and crying, each of them babbling in their own way, or singing out in adulation, as if they were praising a carved idol. It got to the point that they were practically grabbing at his robes now, pulling on them as if they wanted to tear off a piece like some sort of twisted souvenir.
"Oi, you lot!" came the muscular man Marcus's sharp voice. "Are you all children who have forgotten yourselves? You stand in the presence of our god! How dare you insult him, insult us all, by neglecting your other duties! Return to them at once, while reflecting on the great deeds accomplished today!"
"As you wish, my lord."
"Won't happen again."
"I did not really mind," Ainz said, which was a lie. Obviously he didn't really want those people to start tugging at his body, which was a very real possibility that the blond had managed to stop. So in a way, he was thankful.
"Your generosity is truly vast, my lord," Quaisse said. "Pray allow us to plan for your return." He turned to the muscular man. "Marcus, how soon can the casters prepare the teleportation ritual?"
The man shrugged. "Since we no longer need to deploy more troops to capture the city, the queue to use the spell's been freed up. On the other hand, it also means that our people haven't been keeping the spell flowing, which might mean a few more hours before it's up again."
Quaisse nodded in thought. "Let's do it. The sooner our lord can return to the capital city, the better. We can start by arranging an honor guard now. Obviously it'll need the presence of the Black Scripture, and Zesshi..."
Ainz was now scratching his bony dome. Hearing things like having to wait a few more hours bemused him, and also annoyed him. He didn't want to waste time twiddling his thumbs, entertaining these people's asinine questions. He cleared his throat.
"We have no time for that," he announced.
"Lord?" Those who remained look at him. Quaisse and Marcus cocked their heads.
"I said that we have no time to be taking things slow." He snapped his fingers, and a great teleportation sigil appeared on the ground below them. "Don't move unless you're not going," Ainz warned.
"My lord! What?" There were some hushed screams as they looked down at the glowing ground, as they were unsure what was happening.
"Oh don't worry. It's just a simple teleportation spell."
"A simple…? But my lord, that's a spell on the level of—? But how…?"
Their wonder was drowned out by the sound of the spell activating. There came a sound like crackling lightning. There was a bright flash, and a moment later, Ainz, Zesshi, and a few of those surrounding him had disappeared, leaving nothing of their presence behind on that camp. A few of those who were left behind and had witnessed everything fell on their knees and started screaming out litanies and prayers, each praising and glorifying the god who had seemingly returned; who had demonstrated his immense power to them once more. Others gazed, aghast, at the empty space on the ground where the Black Scripture and Sursyana had been, who had disappeared as if they had never existed, leaving only a great empty space.
"So that… was Lord Sursyana…"
The news from the front had yet to reach them here in the capital; and yet the overseers of the Slaine Theocracy: these Six Cardinals who spoke with the voice and authority of the bygone Gods, were already busy planning for the future of the war. It was as if the conclusion of this conflict with the Elf Country was already set in stone: victory, no matter what. Whether that ended up with the mutual annihilation of the armies sent there, or whatever other outcome would arise from the war's end, the Theocracy's leaders were all set to mete out judgment on the defeated, of distributing the spoils that their people had won at great cost—all for the glory of humankind.
The mere notion that any other outcome than victory in the war had not entered their minds. Not only were they blessed with the zeal of faith in their exalted Gods, which accorded all outcomes to the will of the Divine; they were also equipped with the necessary pragmatism to oversee the successful execution of more worldly affairs. The entire campaign from start to finish had been planned for with meticulous efficiency, ensuring that the right forces were marshaled at just the right moment. Even the decision to finally unleash Zesshi Zetsumei, their trump card against the Elf King, had been made with great care, as they were all aware of the significance of such an act. That things had progressed to this point that required her presence meant that the Cardinals' wisdom had foreseen that it must be so.
Well, Maximilian would claim that it was divine inspiration.
Currently, their meeting's agenda was to decide on how to best manage the territories they would be acquiring from the Elf Country after the war's end.
After all, it had already been long decided that the Elf Country itself, as a nation, would not be suffered to exist. It would cease to exist as its former identity, and would take a new one which the Theocracy would control.
There was no question that the city that they had made along the lake would not be inhabited, though a watch would be made on it such that no other would claim their prize. Looting the treasures of the Elf King was just a matter of course, as well as other precious artifacts and objects that would manage to survive the siege. These would make a fine addition to their vaults, as well as provide the necessary rewards to their veterans for fulfilling their duties admirably.
The rest of the Elf Country was then a prize that would need considering. Half of the Cardinals were proposing a more lenient peace, as it was clear that the Elf King had been a tyrant exerting his evil influence over these elves. It had been clear that his subjects were not willing, and there had been many attempts by them to flee to other nations for safety.
Therefore, the remaining elves could exist in a new vassal state, serving the Theocracy forevermore and supplying them with fresh batches of elf slaves as tribute.
"In the first place, the Elf Country, barring the core territory which the Elf King himself administrated, is not so much a nation of towns united into one, but rather one city ruling over a disparate amount of smaller villages," Zindin, Cardinal of Water said. "Authority and power was placed solely upon the Elf King's shoulders, and it is by his decree that he extracted a levy of warriors and other resources from these elf settlements. And yet these villages are not connected to each other by some grand bureaucracy, nor are they beholden to anyone else than the Elf King. In a way, if we eliminate him as a factor, all we have left before us are a multitude of clan-holds and villages, each loyal only to their own selves, without any outright desire for a sort of 'racial unity'."
"Hmph," Berenice, Cardinal of Fire snorted. "Such barbaric lifestyle. It is almost as if they are demihumans."
The nature of their enemy's domain had been a factor in the war and their planning. The nation's decentralized structure meant that there was little need to fight a protracted war capturing territories left and right. When the time came to finally end the Elf King's rule, it was just a straight line towards the capital city itself. Granted, it wasn't so straightforward, as the Elf King had erected considerable defenses all throughout the forest, which replaced the conventional raising of impediments such as forts. That the Elf King had been able to repel their invasion thus far had been because of such thick, concentrated magical defenses, which had used the forest itself as a tool to confound and assault invaders, or even turn its enemies mad.
The Theocracy had to move inch by inch, burning down trees and manually dispelling magical wards in the hundreds, all while they fought to secure their flanks and rear. It was only after a literal road had been made towards the Capital that they were able to start assaulting it in earnest. And even then it was still a lot more work to do, for if the defenses scattered through the forest had been troublesome, then the wards the Elf King had made for his own city were another level entirely. The siege had started some time ago, and where a human nation would have long since succumbed, the elves had managed to survive and endure beyond expectations.
The initial proposal, endorsed by half of the Supreme Council, called for the creation of a provisional government that would govern the newly liberated Elf territories, cobbling them together into one polity at last. The elves would be made to answer to this new governorship, and these collaborators would then answer to the Theocracy.
The others who dissented proposed a different plan. They would instead double down on the territories' fragmented nature, and instead form several smaller nations, each deliberately kept as weak as their neighbors. It was the same strategy as what Ainz Ooal Gown had done for the Re-Estize Kingdom. Much as it galled some to consider imitating that creature—who was still not confirmed to be Sursyana—there was merit to the plan, as it meant that they were deliberately kept weak and separate, unable to form a united front. They would then strive to foment rivalry and disunity in these petty elven nations, ensuring that their only focus was on each other, and not on their new masters. Obviously, adopting such a measure meant triple the work for them, as they would need to allocate resources to watch over these new dominions, while also working to keep them servile and rebellion-free.
Of course, there was another option, which was to exile all the elves from their homes entirely—and enslave them if they refused. That would be too drastic a decision, as that would leave entire swathes of forest uninhabited by civilization, a ripe place for dark things to take up residence and brood. If there was one place where evil things were wont to fester and grow, it was ancient ruins, a fact that had been long attested throughout the Theocracy's history. The failure against the Demon God Kings, for example, had been a massive lapse in vigilance in the past, and it had only been a miracle that their nation had managed to survive. They would never realistically have enough people to keep watch over the entire former territory, not unless they set to clearing out the forest all at once to carve out new cities. And such an initiative was beyond their means.
Raymond was of the "one vassal" faction, if only because he was an orderly man, who disliked having to micromanage such a disorganized rabble. He also distrusted the elves, as any right-thinking human should, and did not wish to hand over power to even petty lords and clan-leaders, diminished though their actual power might be. The governorship of this new client state would be managed by a mix of human elements along with the necessary elven stooges; and was therefore a much stabler prospect, at least in theory. "Scatter the seeds everywhere and everywhere there will burn a fire," was his opinion, as he reminded his fellow Cardinals of what the City-State Alliance had underwent in the past.
In the middle of a particularly heated discussion, Raymond found himself staring at a particular spot on the floor of the chamber, silent, lost in thought and merely allowing the surrounding noise to wash past him without trouble. He would claim that he was yet thinking, and yet at the moment, his mind wasn't really focusing on any one thing at all.
Then, from the corner of his eyes, he spotted something glowing, as of sunlight reflected off a brilliant stone. Seeing that sudden change, his attention was arrested immediately. It was only a moment later that he realized what exactly he was seeing.
"What…?" he said, as he immediately bolted from his chair. The glow was coming from a certain spot on the floor—as if someone had placed a gleaming gemstone right on its surface. The peculiar sight it emitted was bright enough to cast shadows throughout the room, and yet it was not so intense that it blinded one's eyes.
"It is magic!" Zinon said, having quickly identified this new development. All the Cardinals had risen, and were now in a blind panic. Raymond himself thrust his hands out, his mouth forming words quickly to ready a barrier spell to protect himself.
Thankfully, the security protocols overlaid on this place, which was the very heart of the Theocracy, were working as intended. Not a moment later, the guards from outside smashed their way through the door. Each were exemplars who had served in the Scriptures, armored in steel enchanted with powerful magics. In practice they were meant to face off against a wandering monster all by themselves, and when in a group they could fight through a small army.
"Secure the cardinals!" they said. Behind them came the other parts of their security detail: magic casters and clerics tasked with protecting these sacred halls, ready to support the armored guards. The latter had now surrounded the glow on the ground, in a circular formation, their shields raised and ready. The casters would work in concert to identify and contain any magical threat, while the clerics worked to bolster the guards with the protection of the Gods themselves.
The Cardinals were already moving towards the door, which was the only exit in this room. Though an observer might have inquired as to the lack of any sort of emergency bolthole, the reasoning was that this very chamber was one of the most protected parts of the Theocracy. An invader would need to pass through the entire city outside, teeming with warriors blessed by Godkin blood, then assault this ancient temple—which was itself a relic from the Six Gods' time and was protected by magics that the Gods themselves had left behind. Then it was a fighting battle through the halls, with the most elite of the Theocracy's Scriptures, wielding the greatest of the Gods' gifts, barring the path. And then, in such an occasion where the Cardinals chose to make a last stand here instead of fleeing, they would reach this chamber, itself nothing special other than that the Supreme Council met here. So really, there was no plausible reason for an invader to make their way here; and therefore there was no need to make a bolthole.
This was the very reason why the Cardinals were panicking in this very moment. What had happened, that this strange magic had managed to breach the many defenses on this city, causing something like this to appear in this very chamber? Nothing of the sort had ever happened in the Theocracy's long history. If such an enemy could contrive to do this, then nowhere was safe, boltholes notwithstanding.
As Raymond and the others hobbled towards the exit, the magical light seemed to flash brighter, like a flickering lamp, causing the guards behind them to exclaim. Raymond chanced to look back, and what he saw made him cry out in turn. This also caught the attention of the Cardinals, who stopped to look behind just as well.
The light faded, sputtering out as of the last ember in the hearth fire. And there, standing in the middle of a formation of steel, all the loyal guards ready to ransom their lives for the Cardinals, stood a familiar motley of people. Humans, or so they looked. Raymond was quick to recognize the familiar face of Quaisse. Then, it would not take long to recognize the rest of the group gathered there. These were members of the Black Scripture, who had been unleashed at the Elf Kingdom. Their eyes were then drawn to Zesshi in the middle of it all, for her beautiful features were always recognizable.
And then they saw that Zesshi was holding hands with someone unfamiliar. And that figure was none other than a lich in grandiose clothes, with an ominous skull face on top.
"Sursyana…" someone muttered, but Raymond saw the truth. The description of the robed skeletal figure could be none other than Ainz Ooal Gown.
Both sides exclaimed loudly and in shock at this sudden turn of events. The Black Scripture soldiers were seemingly surprised by what had happened, their eyes wide as they took in their surroundings. And the guards on the other hand were also perplexed. For though they did recognize that these were the highest seats of the Black Scripture, their unusual arrival meant that they were treated as suspicious. They could be impostors, after all, some strange illusion wielded by the Sorcerer in their midst.
"O-ohhh? What is this place?" came someone's shout.
"Fool," said the one Raymond recognized as Marcus. "These are the inner chambers of the Supreme Council. Do you not recognize our eminent Cardinals over yonder?"
"Oh, right! But if so, isn't this amazing? Sursyana-sama sent us right to where the Cardinals should be! Such powerful magic, it could only have been done by a proper god!"
"Ooooh…!"
"Explain yourselves!" came the voices of the guards, brandishing their weapons. In a fight between them and the Black Scripture themselves it would be as of a conflict between dragons, burning all around them. Though that was if these really were the Black Scripture.
It was Quaisse who spoke then, his voice clear. He raised his hands outward, emphasizing he bore no weapons. "Calm, I say. Calm, my brothers. I am Quaisse, of the Black Scripture." His eyes sought those of the Cardinals'. "My lord Cardinals, before anything else I wish to verify my existence here. And so here is the Scripture of my Oath: Alpha Beta Zero Omega: Six of Sursyana, Six of the Night. Seven thousand and seven sinless suns."
This was the code meant to present one's credentials as needed. A string of codes only meant for the Cardinals to recognize, to quickly ascertain the truth that this man really was the man he claimed to be.
It was Raymond who spoke the response, the code to acknowledge the other man, and also to affirm that they were indeed the intended recipient. If the Cardinals had been impostors themselves, then it would be Quaisse (and only Quaisse in this instance) who would immediately leap to fight what he now saw to be fakes. "We are the flame of the forgotten past. Six Kilo One Two Zero: Six is the Glory of the Forgotten. Thou sinless suns break in disharmony."
"Harmony, always in truth," Quaisse said.
"In truth, one zero nine," Raymond said faintly, concluding the exchange. He glanced at his fellow Cardinals, who blinked. He nodded, affirming that this indeed was Quaisse as he claimed, and not some impostor. On one hand, he was relieved that this was not a Quaisse impostor who had somehow infiltrated the Theocracy's defenses. Yet on the other hand, he had to wonder why—or more importantly how he was here at all.
In the meantime, Quaisse turned to his fellow Black Scripture, who nodded and stepped forward to prove their own claims. Each lines of code were tailored to each member, renewed at odd intervals of time to throw off attempts at infiltration. He and his fellow Cardinals took up the task of affirming each and every one of those who arrived.
After Zesshi concluded her own string, the mood in the chamber noticeably lightened. Only the guards did not relax, as there was still one last detail that could not be excused by speaking lines of code.
Ainz Ooal Gown.
For a while, there was silence, as each side did not know exactly how to proceed. At any other time it would have been considered very fortunate for the Cardinals that the being whom they had been interested in for some time—and who had been steadfastly ignoring their missives—had actually appeared right before them, like some heavenly messenger from the stories. This was of course juxtaposed by the fact that this was supposed to be Ainz Ooal Gown, the known lich lord with many a foul deed recorded. He was considered an enemy of all mankind, a curse that must be eliminated as soon as possible.
It was Quaisse again who broke the silent stand-off. "My lord Cardinals, since you have verified that I am who I say I am, then it is also right that you heed my words. This is my initial report, after being deployed to the Elf King's Palace, just close to an hour ago."
"Yes, that is the most pressing thing to ask," Berenice said, frowning. "Were it not for these… unusual circumstances we would have questioned why you had deserted the field of duty so quickly. What has happened? Has the Elf King been dealt with?"
"Yes, he has," came Quaisse's reply. The palpable relief that came over the Cardinals was still not enough to get them to relax completely. "But, great apologies, it is our regret to say that we did not have the honor of slaying him." His eyes went towards the Sorcerer-King, who yet remained silent.
"When we arrived at the innermost depths of the Palace, we found lord Sursyana where the King should be," Quaisse continued. "And immediately we realized the truth of the matter. Our God has descended on the very climax of the siege, destroying the Elf King as His first act, this first act of finally revealing Himself to us."
Once again, the Cardinals were forced to behold the lich with wonder. The Elf King had long been a thorn at their nation's side, but was too formidable to just dispatch by even their best efforts. That the Sorcerer-King had been able to do so—well, in Raymond's eyes it was not really surprising, considering all the rest that the undead had done.
"And there is another thing," Quaisse continued. "We had deployed Zesshi ahead, as per our battle plans. We had expected to come in and support Zesshi as she fought the Elf King, or at the worst to avenge her death." The Cardinals did not miss the woman cocking her head at that behind the blond, though she said nothing. "But apparently, she had also been late, and had then instead challenged lord Sursyana."
There were muted whispers at that, at the audacity of even their best challenging their (supposed) God.
"Is this true, Zesshi?" Dominic challenged.
She fluttered her eyes. No one missed the fact that the woman was still holding the lich's hand. How she could withstand being in close proximity to such an undead was a mystery, but there was no time to speculate.
"It is indeed true," Zesshi said, her clear voice filling the chamber. "To my great shame, I challenged the great one, thinking that I had been robbed of the pleasure of ending that wicked man. But I was shown the error of my ways—and so quickly that it literally took the breath from my chest." She tilted her head and moved closer to the lich's side, as if she was a lover enjoying intimacy with the man beside her. And surprisingly, the lich did not react to that, and even looked as if it was reciprocating. "It was then that I knew, deep in my heart, that I was destined to be the mate of none other than a God. Our God, as it turned out to be, but… as you know that is irrelevant to me. Fufufu."
Raymond did not know how to feel about the child of his friend "hooking up" with their supposed God returned, nor the fact that it was acting so irreverent towards their supposed god. Then again, it had all the touches of fate, somehow, as if her place in the great tapestry of time had been set for her from the start. Ah, but he was no soothsayer, to be thinking like that so.
"In that case," Raymond now said, "Congratulations are in order, but we shall toast to your success later. Nay, there is a far more pressing concern at the moment."
And that concern had yet to speak, still standing in the middle of the room, all attention drawn towards him like a moon shining brightly in the dark night.
Ainz Ooal Gown introduced himself to them by laughing. The laugh sent a chill through their bones—it was the laugh of an evil god, sinister in timber and tone. It raised the hackles of those tasked with defending the Cardinals, and even made those Black Scriptures surrounding him look unsure. Only Zesshi looked nonplussed, or was she just oblivious to the very real danger that stood right next to her?
He stopped laughing, his voice trailing off as he began to speak. "Hoho, my apologies for that unseemly display," he intoned. "It is just that there was something amusing about what I heard someone just say."
"My lord?" Quaisse asked.
Ainz shook his head. Then he turned to Zesshi. "What was that you said to them? 'Good day, good day, Marcial'? Fufufu. Such a phrase… It does bring back memories."
"Memories…?" someone repeated.
"Indeed. After all, it is how you…" Ainz trailed off, as if he was trying to find the right words to say. "It's how one unlocks the Marcial Funny Box."
All the Cardinals audibly gasped at that. The sound of their combined surprise drew the attention of the others in the room.
Impossible! No one else other than the Cardinals—and Ainz Ooal Gown it seemed—were aware of the significance of the phrase 'Good day, good day, Marcial'. It was a very obscure thing to know about, knowledge so archaic and obfuscated that only those who ascended to the rank of Cardinals could ever even learn it. It was knowledge never considered vital. Some hypothetical enemy who might manage to peek into the minds of one of them would never understand the significance of the phrase, and if they discovered what it did and the nature of the object it was tied to they would be even less interested.
For it was their duty to carry the knowledge of the Gods passed down through the centuries, and ensure it would never be forgotten. The Marcial Funny Box was a small box, one of the many Divine Gifts that resided in the deepest vaults of the Theocracy. On its surface was a picture of a strange animal, some species of wolf. By uttering the phrase in front of it, there would come a bark, and the box would open, making a cacophony of sound that rattled one's head if one was unprepared. Inside the box there was nothing, just a small space which held nothing. For centuries many succeeding Cardinals had tried to discover the true nature of the Artifact. All of them had so no reasonable enemy would strive to learn all about it, as the Box was patently useless. It would seem that only the Gods themselves knew what the Box was for.
And as of this moment, it was all but confirmed to be the case.
"Hnnnkkkhhh… Khhhaaaa… It is… If that is… Then… It is…!" Maximilian all but wheezed, his expression morphed as if he were having a convulsion. As a devout zealot of the Six, it was not a surprise to the other five that he would seem as if struck by lightning.
The fact that the phrase was used as one of the code-lines necessary for identifying members of the Scripture was part of what made them surprised so much. For the laymen and those not of the Faith, it would just be a bunch of nonsense words. Only the Cardinals knew the absolute truth of each phrase—that and the Gods themselves.
"Well, again, do forgive me," Ainz said. "Allow me to introduce myself again. My name is Ainz Ooal Gown, but you may remember me as Sursyana. This form is but one of many that I have worn… over the years. Over a long time… Eternity. Yes. 'Sursyana' is but one face that I show." And at that, the lich put his finger to his forehead. A moment later, his features shifted, the white skull face seeming to melt as it transformed into the pale flesh of an actual human.
The resulting human was tall and handsome, though his features were a little common and unremarkable. It was the face of a man who might stand out as the most handsome in some small village, and yet he could easily disappear in the rabble of a city. In a way, it was not as if his features were such that poets would describe as "heavenly".
"My lord Sursyana," they whispered, breathlessly. The Black Scriptures knelt silently, leaving Ainz and Zesshi alone standing in the middle. The guards still stood, ever-vigilant, and yet even they looked unsure, as they glanced from Ainz to the Cardinals. They were ready to spring into action, and yet something of the situation struck a chord in them, making them waver.
"My lord," said Berenice, her voice quavering. "May I touch you?"
Ainz's expression lightened. He held out his hand. "Very well." His voice was different—more normal than when he spoke as a lich. And yet it carried that same imperious authority, as of a man who was used to ordering a Kingdom all by himself.
None were surprised by Berenice's audacity, and yet it was understandable. She was the most doubtful out of all of them, for good reason. She stepped forward, past the guards and the kneeling soldiers, and grasped Ainz's open palm.
"Ooooh…" Berenice exclaimed, as she kneaded the flesh on his hand. Ainz raised his brow, expression unclear, and yet he said nothing as the Cardinal continued her examination. It was a most impudent thing to do, especially for one who was their God, and yet Sursyana did not say a word. After a while, she let go of his hand and bowed. "My lord." Then she backed off, and turned. When they saw her face, they were unsurprised to see that her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.
When she came back to them, she whispered, "It is as the Scriptures say. That is a man's hand, of flesh real and unshaped by magic. For Sursyana, who understood how his face would unnerve his children, would take on the shape of man for their sake, walking in their midst and taking their troubles as his own."
"So now, Berenice, you believe?" Maximilian said, his eyes practically bloodshot.
"There can be no doubt… There can be no doubt…!" Berenice exclaimed. "And yet..."
"...And yet a question must be asked," Dominic said, though he looked unsure. He glanced at Raymond who nodded his assent. "It needs to be asked."
"Aye."
Yvon stroked his chin. "Then as the stewards of this nation, we shall act as one voice."
Then they turned to Ainz and made another deep bow, altogether. "My lord, it seems undeniable that you are indeed Sursyana as you claim. And yet your loyal servants wish for a boon, to ask thee questions as any child of the gods must. We are ignorant and foolish in the ways of the divine, and would thus seek clarity for our clouded minds." They waited then, unsure if he would accept. For it was well within the god's right to refuse them, even to strike them down for their impudence.
But a moment later, Ainz nodded. "Very well. Ask your questions."
It was Raymond who stepped forward. He wished he could claim that he alone had the courage to do so, and yet he felt his old knees knocking together in abject fear.
"My lord Sursyana, first we must inquire: if you had indeed returned to the mortal world once more, then why have you not returned to your faithful children? We, who have been waiting all these years, carefully watching over the all that you have built?" It was a familiar plea. The plea of children who had been abandoned in their youth by their forbears. In many ways, the Theocracy were yet children, always looking backwards to a better time, a time when they could be guided in hand by the Gods they cherished.
"And yet, you do claim that you are also Ainz Ooal Gown. And for that, we must acknowledge then, the wide gulf that exists between who you claim to be as Sursyana, and what you have done as Ainz Ooal Gown. We beg pardon, my lord God, but please open our eyes and help us understand. Why did you destroy the Sunlight Scripture? Why did you raise a Sorcerous Kingdom? Why did you kill all those people at the Katze Plains? Why now birth a new nation, where humans are once more chattel to be ruled?"
All these things could be explained if Ainz Ooal Gown was simply that, a powerful undead. If that was only the case then it was only natural to oppose him. The undead were creatures that hated life above all else, their hatred seared into the very fabric of their unholy beings. There had ever only been one example of a kind undead, one exception that had been made long ago: and that was only because Sursyana was also a god unto himself, who had loved and raised the Theocracy together with the others.
And that was the reason that there was ever always doubt in the back of the Cardinals' minds. For though they had been shown proof and seen it with their own eyes—even touched the divine flesh—they could not reconcile who he had been, who he should be; with who he was now, and all of what he had done in this world.
"Please, our lord God, help us understand. Help us see the truth."
For a long moment, Ainz said nothing, though he looked like he was deep in thought. Then he glanced towards Zesshi, who blinked at him, before he sighed.
He walked one step forward and addressed the Cardinals. He swept his arms out wide, as if he was preparing for one huge embrace. To the Cardinals, it almost looked like he was indicating the sheer reach of his power.
"First I must ask, are you all aware of the World Beyond?"
They looked at each other. The term was unfamiliar. "The World Beyond?" Maximilian repeated. "Do you mean to say, the Upper World, my lord?" Scripture held that the Six Gods were sent to this world from a different place: an Upper World where the divine reigned supreme. And yet, compassion bid them descend upon this world, where they would tend to humanity. At the end, they returned to that place, and many prophecies were made foretelling their return once more.
Ainz nodded. "Yes… yes! Yes, that is it. Right. It has many names. It is the world where I hail from. From where I have… returned."
They all exhaled. Maximilian's tears were dripping down his cheeks. They all stood in silence, waiting for their God to speak.
"And when I returned, here again, I saw that some time had already... passed. I had thought to seek you out, to find out what had happened to you.. and all that. And there, right in front of me I found a certain village being raided by a certain group. What they were doing to the villagers… I am sure you already know what sort of sins would make angry. What would make me intervene. That which would make me instantly throw down the bolt of judgment against those who would exploit the weak, who would strike the defenseless and harm the meek."
Understanding dawned on them, even as Ainz started to frown. "I did not even know that they were the Sunlight Scripture. All I saw, in my fury, was a powerful group wasting that same power on sins of such magnitude. Naturally, I was forced to intervene. And though I warned them to repent, so many times, they refused." He cocked his head, as if a thought had occurred to him. "I do not think they even recognized me. And for their sins I wiped them clean off this world."
Gasps filled the chamber. Some of them glanced awkwardly at the other. Yes, that did make sense. Sursyana was a kind god, who was slow to anger. And yet it was known, it was written that when his rage soared it was like a wildfire that consumed all.
So it did make sense that the Sunlight Scripture, who in their arrogance and blindness had fallen to such sin, would be immediately obliterated by the god of death himself. But that did beg the question: would Sursyana also see the same in the Theocracy?
"Now as to the Katze Plains, well, the story is simpler then. To put a long story short, the Emperor of the Baharuth Empire requested me to 'show off my strength'. And that is exactly what I did. I chose that spell deliberately, just so I could ensure that none would ever doubt the power I possessed. Yes… there is no other reason for it. It was a demonstration of what a god such as I can really do."
It was such an outrageous thing to say. And yet, to the Cardinals, it made the most sense. It had been an affirmation of the god's true power: an enormous, frightening display of what he could do. Put that way, there was no denying how effective the great slaying had been. It was a testament of the death god's power, and in another way it was also a sort of grand sacrifice in his honor.
"Very well. It is clear that you are indeed wise, great Sursyana," Raymond said. Ainz's eyebrows lifted, as if he was surprised or amused by what he'd said.
"...It is good that you understand."
"Your pardons, my lord, there is another question. You took so long to reveal yourself to us, my lord. Why did you focus on raising up another Kingdom?" Raymond asked next. That was the inquiry of children fearing that they had been cast off by their sires.
"Hmmm…" Ainz rubbed his chin. "That is the sort of question that is quite difficult to answer. I suppose it is only a form of embarrassment to me, especially if I admit it to you lot. And yet… Yes, there's no other way than to reveal it to you." He bowed his head, causing all of them to exclaim. "Please do forgive a god his failings."
"That's… My lord, you need not bow…!"
"I created another Kingdom precisely because I thought that this world was no longer the world I knew," Ainz replied, his face looking grim. "Or rather, it was the assumption. Everything looked so different… And I did not even recognize your name when I inquired about the nations of the land."
There were muted gasps at that. It was a common thing for every child born to the Slaine Theocracy to learn in their youth. Therefore, it was also something taken completely for granted. It was the fact that before the Theocracy came to be, the nation that the Six Gods had made had a completely different name.
"You can imagine my surprise later when I discovered that the 'Six' that the Theocracy worshiped were actually us. And that I had not arrived at a different world at all. But by then I was already too invested in the Sorcerous Kingdom, and could not just throw it all away," Ainz continued.
Deep in their hearts, they cursed the circumstances that had led to this point. That if not for that, their God might have returned to them quickly. And yet, it was not as if they could hold Sursyana at fault. It was clear to even the most hardcore and stubborn of belief that the Theocracy that they had built up was not exactly the nation that the Six had left.
"… Truth be told, I would have also never figured out the truth—were it not for a certain someone." Ainz glanced at Zesshi in silence for a few seconds. They were confused at this, especially when Zesshi grinned without saying anything.
Then Ainz sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Very well…" he said, though not at them. He opened his eyes and then addressed the cardinals. "Heed me, do not be afraid. I must use powerful magic in this chamber once more. Please be guided."
"Ah, very well, my lord… Oi, you, give Sursyana-sama space! Stand down!"
The orders to the guards were absolute, and regardless of each guard's personal feelings, they did as they were told. After spending nearly the majority of the incident with their weapons ready to strike, they finally raised their speartips to the ceiling and then marched backwards.
"Thank you," Ainz said. Then he put his finger to the side of his head and closed his eyes. A moment later, he spoke again. "It's me. Yes, it's me, stop panicking… Look, just listen. I need you here. You need to talk with your bosses. Yes, I mean them. Yes, as yourself, obviously, so take note of the latest report. So tidy up with something that fits. And not in that way, I mean something decent. Your old armor's not fitting you… Yes, it's fine. I shall explain all. Tell me when you're ready and the Gate will open…" Then followed a few more moments of silence, where those watching wondered what was happening.
"You're ready? Very well." Ainz lowered his hand. Then there came the sound of snapping fingers.
Immediately, the glow of some great magic filled the chamber once more. A fissure seemed to open in reality, as if a giant hand had ripped a hole, allowing one to glimpse another place through that opening.
"That spell…" Zinon muttered. "It is something beyond the Sixth… I can tell it is on a level beyond, far beyond…" Such a spell had only been described in their texts, carefully preserved yet never once believed. It only remained conjecture, and also as a form of warning for the Cardinals. If any one were to arise wielding such power, they were certainly on the level of the Gods themselves.
As they watched, a figure emerged from within the large Gate. It was a tall, buxom woman wearing a simple dress. No, buxom wasn't really the right way to describe the woman. She wore breasts that went quite beyond such simplistic descriptions as "buxom". Those breasts were on a whole other level!
But more important than that was the fact that the figure that appeared looked surprisingly familiar. In fact, were it not for those breasts, it would have looked like the Black Scripture Captain, except with pronounced feminine features.
The man's subordinates seemed to have realized that, as they all gasped. The woman's gaze appraised the room, and all who were in it with a cold look, just the same as the Captain surveying the battlefield. For a moment, she just stood there.
Then her stern expression broke, turning into one of joy as she practically skipped to Ainz Ooal Gown's side. "Ainz-sama~ I'm here, as you requested~! How may this Ueda-san help you?"
"Ah, well you see it's…" Ainz muttered.
The woman blinked, then looked around the room. "Ohhh right… Oh, Ainz-sama, you listened to me! I'm so touched…" Then she drew back from his body, marched a few steps forward and saluted—in the manner of a soldier of the Theocracy. "Captain of the Black Scripture, reporting for duty!"
For a moment there was shocked silence.
Once again, only Raymond seemed to have the wits to speak. Even the fiery speaker, Dominic, was stunned; and the loquacious Yvon looked ill at ease. "That is… impossible. I have just spoken to the Captain and he…" he glanced at Ainz. "… It was only just a few hours ago. He could not have been…"
"Ah, for that I must apologize." Ainz wrapped his hand over the so-called Captain's shoulders, causing her eyes to widen and her to utter a small mouse-like squeak. "You see, I could not help myself. Our meeting is something of a long story. But suffice to say that you have him.. well, her to thank for my realizing that this was still the world from before."
"Um… Ainz-sama…" the woman murmured, her cheeks flaming red.
"What is it you call each other… Godkin…? Well, it is a good summary of what I was able to glean in her. In her was the glimpse of a memory. A memory of old friends…" That was surely referring to the Six Gods. Ainz shook his head. "Diluted though it was, I could mistake its luster. And so, I contrived to capture him, hoping to glean more through interrogation. And from there I learned all about the Theocracy. And from there I did punish her."
"Punish?" they repeated.
The woman was now nodding fervently. "Yes, to my shame I approached lord Sursyana with open hostility, for my eyes were blind to the truth. As can be expected, it did not take a breath from him to silence me immediately. And so, after I was asked so many questions he decided to punish me. And in doing so he revealed himself to me, as the God returned."
"The punishment is… No, you cannot mean…!"
"Yes, Cardinal," she replied with a smile. "The form you see before you. As punishment for all my misdeeds, I was granted a womb and given the responsibility to bear the lord's child. Ever since then, I have been at his side, as his loyal servant." She giggled, like some love-struck maiden.
"Naturally I wove a spell to replace the good Captain without your knowledge," Ainz said. "I desire order and harmony, after all, and I did not want to reveal myself just yet." He hesitated, as if he did not know how to continue. "… Well, before this moment, at least."
There were some scattered mutterings to that. They did know that the Captain had secluded himself for some unknown reasons in recent weeks, citing some weakness that could not be explained. There had even been talk of replacing him as Captain, as it was clear he could no longer do the job. He had even missed the final siege against the Elf Kingdom.
"Before we continue, we must verify you, Captain," Raymond said, straightening his body and looking the woman in the eye. "Identify yourself."
She smiled confidently, drew herself up, and recited the latest code phrase that would identify her as the real Captain. When it was completed and the captain definitively verified, there could be no denying the truth: somehow this woman really was the Captain of the Black Scripture, now inexplicably transformed.
It was a little frightening to realize that their defenses could be compromised so easily, and that some sort of copy could be left behind without them realizing. Only the fact that it had been a god responsible mitigated the knowledge; though he knew all six of them would spend a lot more sleepless nights from then on brainstorming a solution this extraordinary gap in security.
It was Quaisse who spoke next. "Then, is it because of your influence, Captain, that the lord deigned to reveal himself?"
The Captain blinked, as if confused, then a second later she smiled and nodded. "Naturally. I continued to beg my lord again and again, wishing that he would return to his lost children. And I am glad to see that my entreaties worked." She glanced towards Ainz, who nodded.
Everyone exclaimed at that, praising the Captain ("That's our Captain!") for what she had accomplished. She even did some sort of mock bow to that, grinning all the while. Only Zesshi seemed unaffected, and even looked displeased somehow.
The hubbub died down when they realized that the Cardinals had stepped forward as one group. The whole lot of them stopped a few yards before Ainz. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, Berenice fell to one knee, her head bowed. "Thy servant, Berenice Nagua Santini, of the Seat of Fire, is ready to serve, my lord god. May the divine flames bless our nation with eternal warmth."
Zindin was next to kneel. It was as if they were following some unseen script—which was true, in a way. "Thy servant, Zindin Delan Guelfi, of the Seat of Waters, is ready to serve, my lord God. May the purifying waters nourish our eternal nation."
Raymond was next, falling to one knee as prescribed. He intoned, "Thy servant, Raymond Zarg Lauransen, of the Seat of Earth, is ready to serve, my lord god. May the eternal earth shelter our fair nation."
Dominic, followed, not a second too early or too late after him. "Thy servant, Dominic Ire Partoche, of the Seat of the Winds, is ready to serve, my lord God. May the four winds keep the watch eternal over our nation."
Maximilian, his eyes burning with a fire unseen before, was next. "Thy servant, Maximilian Reo Lagier, of the Seat of Darkness, is ready to serve, my lord God. May our courage be eternal in the face of the unforgiving dark."
Last, but certainly not least, Yvon kneeled. He was the one to conclude the Cardinals' submission, something that had never happened in all the history of the Theocracy. "Sumbission" was not a light thing to proclaim, as it meant that the Theocracy, long staying aloof from all mundane matters of the world, was readily offering itself. Yet in the face of true divinity, there was no reason to hesitate. "Thy servant, Yvon Jasna Delacrox, of the Seat of Light, is ready to serve, my lord God. May the Light eternal illuminate the path to our future."
Then, as one, the Cardinals fell forward, their foreheads pressed to the floor in prostration before Ainz. They spoke as one, their voices combined, no words too swift or flagging behind. "We welcome your return, lord of death, God Sursyana! It gladdens us to see the great Master return once more. Unto your arms we commend the nation you built. And as it is written: so shall begin the golden age of humanity."
The others in the room followed suit, emulating their superiors. The very fact that the Cardinals, the wisest of their nation, had acknowledged Ainz Ooal Gown as Sursyana, meant that there were no more doubts to be expressed. If there yet existed those who had a shred of uncertainty in their hearts or minds, they were silent and kept it hidden. Quaisse led the rest of his comrades in proclaiming the glories of Sursyana, faces almost euphoric from joy.
And through it all, Ainz just stood there in the middle, his expression unreadable, and his manner great and imperious. Zesshi and the Captain snuggled close to his side, seemingly oblivious to all the attention and only focusing on their love.
Eventually, the praising did die down, leaving the awkward situation with a group of people just kneeling in front of Ainz. The returned god cleared his throat.
"...Rise, all of you. Your praise and prayers have been acknowledged. For now, we must plan for the future."
The Cardinals rose, their eyes now sparkling as if they were decades younger. "Your wish is ever at our command, lord Sursyana!"
The private dining chamber was the best that the Theocracy could offer. Only the most elite and prestigious of guests would ever be invited to see it in its entirety. Its rich furnishings and lavish décor were meant to impress and intimidate, all while its honored guests were offered generous servings of food—food that was supposed to be one to die for. The room was as much a statement of power, restating in no uncertain terms that the Theocracy had a long, rich history, one that was blessed by the gods themselves.
As the captain, Ueda had never entertained hopes of being led to this chamber, as the Black Scripture was never meant to be present during diplomatic feasts. She had indeed seen the chamber herself on a certain time, but she had resigned herself to never being able to dine inside it, for such a privilege was only extended for those whom the Theocracy wished to impress. These were foreign kings, emperors, leaders who might be duly impressed to serve the Theocracy's ends.
A strange set of circumstances had led her to being invited here, an honor which she never expected to receive at all in her years of service. Yet now that she was actually sitting there, being served a veritable feast fit for a council of Kings, she was forced to realize one stark thing.
The place, the ambience, the food—none of it compared to what Nazarick had to offer. The Mother's Hall, despite its simpler aesthetic and purpose, seemed far grander in scope than this place.
And the food! For she who had been allowed to sample the food from Nazarick itself, such lavish repasts that they now offered in this hall seemed like food prepared by amateurs. It was surprising for her to think that only a few months had passed and her tastes had already changed. The cooks of Nazarick did seem like they belonged to the realm of the divine, the "Other World" where the gods did dwell.
Despite that, she still stacked a lot of food on her plate. Food was food, and it was not as if she had been served hot sand and rocks to feast. Ever since her pregnancy had been confirmed, she had been a little more ravenous than usual. She only hoped no one had noticed, as she furtively looked around. The other members of the Black Scripture were feasting on another table. Every other moment they raised their flagons and glasses in toast to the Six Gods or to Sursyana, making new oaths and promises within hearing distance of Ainz himself.
On another table to the left, Ainz and the Six Cardinals were talking as they feasted. She noticed that Ainz did not seem to look enthused as he conversed, his brow furrowed and his mouth was turned almost into a scowl. One might have thought he was giving his due thoughts on the matters being laid before him, yet as one who was already familiar with the god's various moods, she knew he was displeased in some way.
"He is not that please, no," came a voice to her right. She turned and cocked a brow at Zesshi, who had whispered that to her.
"Whyever not?" she murmured back.
"He is impatient to return home," Zesshi said, toying absently with the salad on her plate. "As am I, by the by. You would feel the same, if you desired to return home to your children as soon as possible."
She inclined her head in understanding. "Aye, the point is made. But this is a golden opportunity, Zesshi! This is a historic moment, are you not more excited? Finally, the Master has revealed himself, and shall finally take the reins of our fair nation, ready to lead us to another new golden age. Should you not be more excited?"
Zesshi raised her brow. "As you say."
Ueda continued, "We might be here for a few more days. You know how the Cardinals are like. Leaving aside the fact that Sursyana himself is walking among us once more, there is also the many plans that have to be made. Matters of state, and all the other things that need to be attended to…"
"How tedious," Zesshi said. "And I'm sure he agrees."
"Oh?"
Zesshi quirked a brow. "You may count on it. If you've been his lover as long as I have, you will learn to read him like a book even from afar." She sighed. "But, as you said, his hands are tied. There are much more schemes afoot than either you or I can guess at." She glanced to the side. "Speaking of which, I trust you'll hold your tongue regarding certain matters from now on."
"Certainly." She knew Zesshi was referring to the fiction that had been woven: that she had been first to be claimed by Ainz and not Zesshi, and that all the other Mothers of Nazarick must not be mentioned at all. This was something not said by but by Zesshi surprisingly, during a silent Message done at the start of this feast.
"I shall hold you to that. Especially this very minute."
"Huh?" Then a shadow fell across her face. She looked and saw that Quaisse had walked to their table and had sat down opposite them.
"Hello again, Captain. Zesshi."
"Good work," Ueda said in greeting, gruffly. Her former subordinate eyed the two of them with curiosity.
"It's a bit of a surprise, seeing you two hitting it off, almost like old friends," he remarked, looking between them.
"Old friends?" Zesshi snorted. "That's how you see it?"
Ueda scoffed, but said nothing.
"Well, regardless, I'd just like to congratulate you first, Zesshi. It seems a great task for anyone to ever measure up to the standards you set. We are fortunate then that Sursyana-sama had deigned to descend on this very moment. And that's after all the men she beat up, eh Captain?"
"Mmm… I do remember."
Zesshi rolled her eyes. "Must you be so tedious, even now?"
"My apologies if I give off that impression. I am only being honest." He turned to Ueda. "And Captain, I would also like to extend my congratulations, and my personal thanks. That you had been chosen personally by the Master is an unprecedented honor. And of course, your role in convincing him to return to us cannot be understated. The historians shall never forget your name."
Ueda could tell that much of the praise was grotesquely missing its intended mark. If anything, it would be the woman next to her who should be honored for being the "first". But neither she nor Zesshi could say anything to change the story; this was, after all the "reality" that Ainz-sama himself had stipulated when he had explained himself to the Cardinals.
"I hope you do not find it strange for me to ask, sir, or… ma'am," Quaisse continued to say. "But how does it feel… you know… being, well, being a female?"
Ueda narrowed her eyes and considered the man. She didn't know if he was asking for genuine curiosity or if there was some other ulterior motive. Such as having some secret desire to emulate her and becoming Ainz's woman as well. She knew Quaisse was just as devout in the faith as "she" had been, and would therefore see this as an honor.
If she did, then would she have a bigger rack? She thought to herself, amused. In a way, the man reminded her of Clementine, which was fitting as this was that woman's brother. Another Clementine with larger breasts… now that was a strange image to consider.
As if he had heard her unspoken thoughts, Quaisse continued, "It must have surely been a surprise to get those… breasts, huh?"
"… What the hell are you talking about?" Ueda said. Zesshi chuckled in amusement.
"Everyone's talking about it," Quaisse said, waving towards the other table. "No one has ever seen breasts such as yours. It's almost a miracle—did Sursyana-sama bestow that upon you as a sort of blessing?"
"I am sure I would not presume to know his thoughts."
"Oh, but rest assured," Zesshi said, mirth in her eyes. "That I shall definitely ask." Ueda frowned.
Quaisse chuckled at that, oblivious to the silent exchange between the two women.
A muscular man stumbled onto the table next, bearing flagons of alcohol in his hands. "My friends, we must celebrate all the victories on this day with much more gusto than this! So don't be looking so dour and serious! Let us toast to Ainz Ooal Gown! To Sursyana Returned!" He shoved the flagons in their faces.
Only Ueda refused. "Thank you, Marcus, I'd rather not."
"What are you talking about, Captain?" Marcus said, his voice a little slurred. "Come on now, just a toast and a sip. Or if you prefer, you can just hold the thing; you don't even need to drink at all."
"Thank you, but no." The smell of alcohol was making her nauseous on this moment.
Quaisse raised a brow. "Just the toast then."
Ueda wrinkled her brow, even while Marcus continued to try giving it to her. "For the last time, it's no! Don't push me on this!" She all but slammed the table. "Are you daft!? You don't give alcohol to pregnant women you idiot!"
The moment she realized she'd said that she gasped, placing her hands on her mouth. She looked around and saw that the rest of the room had heard her. She had, after all, shouted it for all to hear. There was a great, damning silence, as every eye was now turned to her.
Zesshi looked amused. Quaisse, Marcus, and all the rest of them looked like they'd been struck dumb. And Ainz, in the distance, covered his face with his palm.
She swallowed. "Um…"
The resulting cheer nearly deafened her, as the entire Black Scripture stood to crowd around her, each one offering shouts and cheers of congratulations! There was a toast, indeed; another one to add to the many made on that feast. This toast was made in the honor of the Captain, and the first of the "new" Godkin to be birthed from her loins, and the very first to be born from a God since the time of the Six themselves.
And through all that, Zesshi just continued to smile.
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", or message me on discord under RHoldhous#6771.
If you like my stories but don't wish to commission something big, you can drop a few at peypal dot me/RHoldhous (please change the second letter on peypal to a). Any help is appreciated!