Capital of Re-Estize, Palace Outskirts
"What good is a chicken-hearted king?!"
"Death to the traitorous nobles!"
"Justice for our brothers and sisters in E-Rantel!"
"How many more of us have to die before something is done to save our souls?!"
This was the chorus that sang outside the walls of Valencia Palace, the people of Re-Estize were in a riot. They shouted against the line of guards that protected the main gate leading inside. Their collective fury rose and fell with the sermons of their elders, raising their fists in rebellion.
On this cloudy day, they gathered. No longer were they to be shackled by the chains of the nobility. No longer would the complacent Royal family be allowed to escape punishment. The fires of rebellion had steadily been brewing, and it seemed today was the day that it erupted into an inferno that burned away the last of their maltreatment.
For months, their kingdom had been besieged by threats both within and without. Their peasants were constantly conscripted to fight and die in the annual war with the Baharuth Empire, their villages falling to unknown desolations of monsters and bandits alike, and the prized city of E-Rantel itself collapsing into dust. It was all too much to bear
Enough had been enough.
"How much more must we endure before we are broken?" Demanded a hunched, elderly man, waving his cane while he stood on a soap box in front of the crowd. "How much longer can we send our fathers, brothers, and sons out to kill themselves in the name of our cowardly nobility? What more will it take for our king to take action!"
The people echoed his sentiment, alleyways, and streets clogged with the poorer Re-Estize citizens. Their clothes were ragged, their faces haggard from the stress of their new reality. Indeed, it felt like a spell of [Frenzy] descended upon the crowd. Hundreds mobbed the street, waving their fists in unison.
The elderly man pointed his cane at the stone-faced guards. "Look upon these wretched souls! See how they are forced to protect the parasites that steal from us, how they are the only thing separating us from oppression! But they are our brothers as well, they must be brought back to our side!"
"Death to the king! Death to the nobility!" The crowd chanted in a furious roar. They stamped their feet, the cobblestone echoing with the thuds of their discontentment.
It was not known how, but people within the community had quickly learned that one of the Six Great Nobles, Marquis Blumrush, was revealed as a traitor. The wealthiest man in Re-Estize, who owned many gold and mithril mines that the people worked in, was selling them out to the Baharuth Empire.
The noble class blamed the information leak on the surviving adventurers from E-Rantel, led by Pluton Ainzach. They had reappeared out of a mysterious, obsidian portal at the gates of Re-Estize many months ago. They were nearly as disgusted with the lack of action on their ruler's part but took no further action to stir up the resentment of the people.
Others blamed the criminal underworld for releasing the info, for it was no secret that some of the ruling class had connections. Perhaps it was all a ploy to finally topple the once decent country, so that gang leaders and their thugs could take over with an iron fist, free to peddle their ill-gotten wares without fear of retribution.
And some blamed a third, unknown source entirely. Who whispered of a band of individuals known as the Sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown that possibly leaked the information. Foreigners of a distant land who wished to liberate the forgotten and abandoned people of Re-Estize.
No matter the origin though, the next choice of action was clear. The people must rebel to reclaim themselves.
"The destruction of our villages, the loss of E-Rantel, and the swelling of our population in the capital leaves us no choice!" The elderly man declared. "Can we simply decide to flee to Karnassus and hope that they may take us in? Could we be so bold as to turn coat and run to Argland? No! Change, real change must be from within! And we shall start… today!"
Everyone in the crowd shouted with approval. The elderly man turned to see the guards shuffling nervously. Their fingers twitched on the poles of their spears. He grinned viciously, sensing the mood of the people reaching a crescendo.
They dared not move. For they feared if they were to draw their weapons and engage the crowd, they would be quickly overrun. There was no more reasoning. Even by the prospect of other nations, their equipment was poor. The guards themselves, unlike those in the palace, were nothing but unlucky peasants forced to fill in the gaping holes in their forces. Their training was meager at best and non-existent at worst.
Someone was going to die today.
"MAY THE GODS WATCH OVER THIS CONGREGATION! MAY THEY BLESS OUR EFFORTS TO LIBERATE RE-ESTIZE FROM THE OPPRESSORS!" shouted the elderly man, his voice unusually loud for someone of his age. The people parroted back his words, bloodlust growing amongst them.
The time was nigh. The elderly man whirled again on the guards, hefting his cane like a sword. "Today, the capital! Tomorrow, the country!"
A stampede commenced. All the disgruntled marched forward, brandishing makeshift weapons that they held in their clothing. Now the guards were forced to lower their spears and prepare for battle. One among them couldn't help but ponder how the people inside the palace couldn't hear what was going on.
But then the horde halted, confused murmurs rising from them. The sun, which was previously overcast, now darkened severely. Some looked up, only to quickly avert their eyes when they saw an ominous shadow smother the rays of the sun.
"An eclipse! An eclipse has happened! But why?" cried one protestor. The people shielded their faces from the powerful omen. Only the elderly man dared to look on.
With exaggerated sluggishness, the sun was swallowed by the eclipse. The world was bathed in a hazy light, reflecting the wicked mood. And then the crowd cowered when a crack like thunder ripped apart the sky. A rhythmic, booming sound descended from the heavens. One woman in the crowd pointed at the sky with terror.
"Dragons! Dragons are coming out of the sun!" she shrieked, punctuated by a beastly howl.
The crowd immediately broke apart in a panic, scurrying like rats down the various alleyways and streets. Dozens surged towards the palace gates, skewered by the guards' spears. They turned back when they saw the hulking forms of the lime-green dragons, flanking a carriage pulled by flaming horses and flying, metallic men circling above the palace. Whatever that arrived intended to land there, and they would have no part of that.
More than a few were trampled underfoot by the mob. Their mangled bodies were propped up by the ill-guided hope that they could be saved by their neighbors. The guards at the gate, once they saw the crowd running away from them, turned tail and ran off themselves. The cries of prayer and mercy intermingled with no discernable source.
And watching all of the chaos was the elderly man himself. He smiled, showing off crooked teeth. He chuckled to himself with satisfaction. "Ooh, my masters will be pleased! I can't wait to report back on how I did. It'll be good to get out of this human skin. Lady Albedo, we have succeeded!"
Checking to make sure no one was watching, the man threw away his cane and straightened his back. He walked off with a whistle, content to let the Lords of Nazarick do their part now.
He still needed to find the safe houses of Eight Fingers after all, as well as prepare Lord Tepas Smith and Lady Cuttlefish's residence. It would not do to leave the Supreme Beings waiting.
Valencia Palace, Royal Throne Room
Momonga was seated directly across from King Ramposa of Re-Estize. A massive long table, carried by an entire team of guards, housed the most important members of negotiations. With how many of his friends came with him on this trip, it was no surprise that they needed the room.
On King Ramposa's side, there was Chief Warrior Gazef Stronoff, who he greeted with a polite nod. The grizzled veteran stood resolute by his monarch's side while he sat on the throne, mirroring the way that Touch Me and Bukubukuchagama did on either side of his chair.
Behind the king's chair were three of his children, presumably. From what he recalled of Ancient One's and Punitto's extensive research, they were the kingdom's most prominent princes and princess. There was First Prince Barbro Andreas Leld Ryle Vaiself, an arrogant and haughty man. There was Second Prince Zanac Valleon Igana Ryle Vaiself, a cunning individual who masqueraded as a jealous prince to his siblings. And there was Third Princess Renner Theiere Chardelon Ryle Vaiself, a radiant girl whose heart bled for the people of the kingdom.
Around that side of the table were also the Great Nobles, down to five now that Marquis Blumrush had previously been ousted as a traitor to his own country. Two of them were unusually quiet and pale, their hands nervously dancing along the tabletop.
The overlord smiled internally, praising Ancient One's unmatched political skill. He knew that they had spies within the Re-Estize Kingdom, spies who had been able to stealthily release enough evidence about the former Marquis's under-the-table dealings with the Baharuth Empire. It was a textbook ploy to reveal information about one's enemies to the other side. It saved his own guild time and resources from having to do it themselves.
At least that is usually the hope. I hope Tepas and Cuttlefish's mission goes well.
From what he knew of Blumrush's position, he'd been a greedy and selfish man who would sooner sell his family than ever part with his gold. He'd owned a hefty amount of gold and mithril mines, making him the wealthiest man in the kingdom. Ancient One and Demiurge had singled him out first, utilizing their spy in the kingdom to have the man executed for his treachery and begin destabilizing the kingdom itself.
It was exceedingly extraordinary luck that the kingdom fell into the state it was now, or at least that was what he would say if he did not already know exactly how everything came to pass.
"I believe we should skip past the greater formalities and dive directly into negotiations, shall we?" Momonga said, authoritatively projecting his voice. "Time is of the essence. And I do not wish to prolong matters any more than we have to."
"We appreciate the sentiment, Sir Momonga," King Ramposa said, smiling warmly. "Sir Sebastian mentioned that you had a treaty drafted already. Let us open it and review the details."
"Of course. Sir Sebastian, would you break the seal please?"
The world champion nodded, flicking open the wax seal with his finger. He unfurled the parchment and laid it down on the table, sliding it over to Ancient One to read. It was only right that he did so since he and Punitto Moe worked on it.
With his trademark grin, the aminuzu seer began to read the treaty's contents.
"The Council of Elysium, who are represented by the guild of Ainz Ooal Gown, cordially invites the Kingdom of Re-Estize into a mutually beneficial alliance. Upon the signage of this document, Ainz Ooal Gown shall, on behalf of the interested parties, promptly open trade negotiations to supplement the economy of Re-Estize. These trade negotiations may include but not be limited to discussions of the type of raw materials traded, military equipment for the outfitting of Re-Estize's military, as well as potential infrastructure overhauls as needed. In exchange, the Council of Elysium will be paid proper tribute in the form of the city of E-Rantel, in which all rebuilding efforts will be undertaken by a mage of Ainz Ooal Gown's choosing."
Ancient One then set the document back down. He slid it over to the nobles' side. "All you need to do is sign on the dotted line and we can start presently. We went to great lengths to keep the specifics of this treaty concise for you. We would hate to impede upon such a drastic decision as this."
The two pale nobles said nothing, their eyes darting among their peers. Momonga recognized them as being the Marquis Boullope and Count Lytton. With the loss of Blumrush, the balance of power for the nobility faction was skewed. Combine that with his guild's timely arrival, and he could only imagine what sort of treasonous thoughts rattled in their head.
Surprisingly, the first to speak was the First Prince Barbro himself. "E-Rantel?! You come here with this… pathetic excuse for a treaty and demand that we give you E-Rantel?! How in this world could foreigners such as yourself hope to lay any sort of claim on that land!"
"Barbro-" King Ramposa tried to interject but his son barreled on. The First Prince jabbed a finger accusingly at the guildmates.
"How can we trust magic practitioners to be held accountable to their word? The silver paladin at least is a warrior, but they want to use a mage to rebuild E-Rantel! That pit of poison was our land! We can't surrender what's ours simply because they ask!"
Momonga could practically feel his friends gritting their teeth. He almost did as well but maintained his cool head with the help of his emotional inhibitor. He pointed a finger at the irate royal.
"We are more than happy to explain ourselves, but I will not tolerate any insults from your delegation, King Ramposa. If this meeting is to continue peacefully, Prince Barbro shall be [Silent]."
A vein bulged on the prince's forehead. He tried to hurl more insults, but his voice was absent. Barbro's eyes widened in shock, grabbing his throat as if that would somehow fix the issue. He desperately turned to his father, pleading with his eyes.
King Ramposa stared with astonishment. "Sir Momonga, there is no need to silence my son with magic. Despite his crude manner, he does raise a valid point. You presumably offer much in exchange for something as valuable as E-Rantel. It may have been destroyed, but the land is still ours. Why ask of us something as vital as that."
"To put it simply, Your Highness, we believe it may prosper better in our hands," Ancient One said smoothly, "From what we have learned of your kingdom, it would appear that there was slight mismanagement in the city's handling. With our guidance, we can return it to its proper glory."
"Mr. Junichiro, surely you are not insinuating that we are inept at managing our holds?"
"He's too polite to say it directly, but that is exactly what we're saying," Touch Me butted in, crossing his arms. "I'll admit, it was my fault the city was destroyed, but the fact that the people were so grossly disregarded is highly unethical. In my short time there, not once did I ever see any sort of relief larger than Gazef Stronoff's team, and I was there far before they arrived."
Marquis Boullope finally mustered the courage to rebuttal. "Yo-you think yourself high and mighty to criticize our bureaucracy?! Have you any idea of the political nuances we'd need to organize a greater effort? The resources needed to effectively implement a wide-scale evacuation? Gazef was our best hope at accomplishing anything amongst the bottomless list of issues we as a country face!"
"Ah, so you admit it was your red tape that strangled your ability to administer justice. That's a pity. It is good that you have someone as morally sound as Gazef Stronoff here. I'd hate to think how badly the wheels of bureaucracy would crush you all."
"Gentlemen, we shouldn't degrade ourselves to such tactics," Urovana diplomatically interjected. "Sir Momonga found it in his best judgment to prevent an argument with Prince Barbro and himself. Should we not exercise the same diligence as he?"
A modicum of respect for the noble increased in Momonga's eyes. "Well put. Getting back on track, you cannot deny that your country has suffered grave misfortune. By our estimates, it is likely your country will fall by the time of the next Annual War. We offer a way out. Simply sign the document, give us E-Rantel, and you can rebuild with our help."
"Which is all well and good, but why specifically E-Rantel?" Count Lytton questioned. "It was our first and foremost fortress city. Even in its ruins, it still serves its purpose in keeping out the Baharuth Empire. By claiming it, you as a foreign power will have effectively driven a wedge into our territory. Prosperity and management aside, it could be the grounds to start a war."
"Hence the reason to ally. Why strike against our would-be allies? It is all too apparent that you as a people are struggling. By claiming the city, we become a safety rail to steady yourselves against Baharuth. If they try to march on the rebuilt city, then they wage war with us rather than you," Momonga explained.
King Ramposa stroked his beard in thought. "You'd become a shield against our enemies. It would give us time to restore what we have lost and place faith back in the nobility and royal family. And these mentions of trade you described earlier…"
"King Ramposa, would you surrender the fortress city?!" Marquis Boullope stood from his chair in outrage. "That is our history! We cannot lose face in such a way! The people already storm the streets, demanding our heads. If we fully commit to this, then we condemn ourselves to a slow and painful demise. We trade one demon for another with them."
"We have already lost face, Marquis. How can we as the ruling class of Re-Estize hope to stand before our people as we are? Emperor Jircniv would starve us out before the year is out. We have neither the conscripts nor the equipment to foster any military offensive at all. Despite the… reservations about magic in the past, those of Ainz Ooal Gown may be our only hope."
Having said that, the king sagged in his chair. He seemed almost relieved to speak his mind in such a way. Even still, Momonga recognized the trepidation in his eyes. One man was effectively gambling the entire fate of his kingdom on the promise that a foreign nation might be able to drag them out of the hole they dug themselves into.
The only thing that seemed to calm the king down enough was his daughter, Renner. Momonga saw how the Third Princess tenderly touched her father's shoulder. He looked at her, taking in her radiant smile.
"Would it not be better this way, father? It seems relatively simple what they ask. One city for our entire nation's future. They would even rebuild it themselves, and our people could still live there. It is not as if our subjects are being forced out."
King Ramposa carefully considered that. There was a special love that the king held for his daughter, that much was certain. Ancient One was likely already exploiting it well before they ever arrived.
That small interaction was enough to break the king. The Royal sighed. "I would like to discuss everything in detail. No stone will be unturned in assuring the conditions of this treaty. It will take days, but having the direct representatives of our future ally country will speed things along."
"Days is all we will need," Momonga promised, "We have magnificent wonders to show you all. There will be much work to be done. All you need to do… is sign on the dotted line."
The skeletal overlord tapped the table with his heavy gauntlet to emphasize his point. The king looked to Ancient One, who promptly handed him a bottle of Dwarven ink and the feather of a cockatrice.
It was overkill to sign what was essentially a contract. However, anything Ainz Ooal Gown did as a guild would be overkill from here on out. The king admired the colorful feather before dipping the point into the golden ink. With a simple scribble, his signature was secured and the scroll snapped shut automatically. The nobles gasped in surprise, and then it floated back into Momonga's waiting hand.
"I foresee the start of a beautiful relationship from here on out, gentlemen. Please, it is only fair that I introduce the members of my beloved guild. As allies, I expect that we will be working together quite closely."
Oh my god, Ancient One said that negotiations would be short, but I didn't think we'd progress so quickly.
"Marvelous work maintaining your composure there, Momonga. I see your practice with Bukubukuchagama has paid off," praised the Aminuzu Seer honestly over a private [Message].
"I could not have done it without any of your guys' help. Her coaching, yours and Punitto Moe's strategic writing, and the time invested in preparing all of us. It is nothing short of marvelous," Momonga praised back.
By this point, everyone that currently sat at the table rose. Count Lytton and Marquis Boullope quickly escaped from the throne room, Barbro trailing behind them. The haughty noble gave Momonga the stink eye as they departed. Perhaps he would leave the [Silent] spell active on Barbro for the rest of the day.
The King gestured toward the throne room door. "Sir Momonga, might you and your entourage accompany me across the castle grounds? It would give you time to formally introduce everyone, and we might be able to further discuss the specifics of your treaty now that I've signed it."
"Gladly," he agreed, walking as a group outside the room. "You're already well acquainted with Sir Sebastian, so allow me to introduce you to Lady Kana. She is my first-most shielder and a deeply cherished friend."
The complex slime bashfully waved away his compliments. "It's good to meet you, your highness."
"Likewise, Lady Kana. Are you a chief warrior like Sir Sebastian? I've never heard of a woman chief warrior if that is the case."
"That is not the case. I much prefer to work with shields than a sword since I lack the dexterity. It is much better to defend my friends with castle walls than a simple cannon, no?"
While the king and Bukubukuchagama politely conversed, Momonga noticed that Ancient One lagged behind their group. The Aminuzu Seer linked up with the Third Princess, who was accompanied by Second Prince Zanac and Marquis Raeven. The young girl and player seemed to share a joke amongst themselves while the third and fourth wheelers watched on, bewildered.
For about ten minutes, Momonga was able to properly introduce all of his accompanying friends to the King and his nobility. Gazef Stronoff and Garnet paired up in the massive group, catching up since they last saw each other during the first battle at Carne Village.
"And this is Solomon. He is the mage who will be put in charge of rebuilding E-Rantel over the coming days. His geomancy is second to none. The undead which plagues that great city does not stand a chance."
"It is a pleasure to meet with all of you," King Ramposa said. "Sir Solomon, is it? You gladden my heart that you have the power to purify an entire city. Though, perhaps this is merely my caution, but is no one else accompanying you? Not as a jab against your abilities, but it would soothe my worries to know you wouldn't be alone."
Luci*Fer didn't do much to disguise himself. With a combination of a porcelain mask and a [Glamour] spell, he fully hid away the corrosive venom that seeped off his body. Unlike Nidhoggr's brand, Luci*Fer's was non-lethal. At least it was to players. They had no desire to stress test that in the New World.
The angelic player mumbled an affirmative, not meeting the king's eyes. Yamaiko, appearing as an older Yuri Alpha in her magical disguise, jumped in to interpret. "Apologies, Your Highness. Solomon here can have a bit of a hard time speaking. Rest assured, he will have me and another when we depart to E-Rantel."
The King's smile wavered. "Ah, I did not mean to offend. Is he like those two adventurers from the Argonauts? The Swords of Darkness, when they stayed here, mentioned that they took oaths of silence. You will speak in his stead?"
"Uh, yes! Not to divert the conversation, but will we also have the option to go and explore the city a bit? I've never been much for talking about politics." Yamaiko hastily added.
Her remark made the king laugh. "It's rare that someone is. I would wager that your friends are intuitive like that, either way. That is quite alright. Perhaps another of my children could show you the grounds in the meantime."
At that moment, Renner popped up with her radiant smile. There was something off about it, in the way her lips curled over her teeth, but she appeared harmless enough. Momonga couldn't quite understand it, but he got the impression that her smile may have been forced.
"Leave them to me, Father. I would be happy to keep them company. Climb will be waiting for me back in my room. He must have been so upset that I had to order him to remain behind. I could make it up to him by introducing Miss…"
"Oh, my name is Yanma. Just Yanma." Yamaiko said casually. The skeletal overlord mentally face-palmed at the name. She shared in Touch Me's uncreativity at times.
"I will introduce Climb to Miss Yanma and Solomon. I'm sure Blue Roses will be happy to meet with them as well. They've been in a sour mood ever since the destruction of our outer villages, so hearing how Solomon could help restore E-Rantel will lift their spirits."
"Very well then. I will see you later this evening. Be safe and do not keep our guests up too late."
Renner curtsied with a more natural smile this time. With delicate motions, she led Yamaiko and Luci*Fer away from the main group. As they broke away, Momonga saw the way her shadow rippled out of sight of everyone else. Only his eyes caught the motion, the demon within Renner's shadow saluting him.
How many more nobles in this kingdom are like her, I wonder?
A question for another time. He had a long few days ahead of him anyway.
Eight Fingers Safehouse, the Merchants District
One of the lookouts on duty yawned in boredom. "By the Four, how much longer are we going to have to stand around here and guard all these damn boxes? My legs are about to fall off."
"You'll keep an eye on the merchandise until I say so!" Yelled his superior, smacking the younger lookout upside the head.
The lookout held his head. "Dammit, sorry I asked! It's just been such a slow day. We have all this product and nobody to sell it to anymore. I'm half surprised we even have anything left to sell after the fiasco with our farms. Who the hell does Hilma think she's fooling?"
"That's not really for us to wonder about so long as we get paid," the superior gruffly remarked. "I would rather get out of this cesspit of a country as soon as possible. Eight Fingers has been scrambling to relocate us but no luck so far."
The two of them who were assigned for Black Dust holding duty found a quiet agreement. It helped that the safehouse they were residing in was relatively well-off. A perk of their position was that Hilma Cygnaeus, the head of the Drug Trade Department within Eight Fingers, preferred to have her merchandise stored in secure but classy areas such as brothels.
Supposedly the one picking up the Black Dust would be one of Cocco Doll's slavers. They would smuggle the drugs into the Baharuth Empire under the guise of bringing in fresh meat since Eight Finger's influence was steadily spreading into Re-Estize's powerful neighbor. Unfortunately, neither guard knew what the slaver looked like, only that they would have the appropriate code to be let in.
The lookout sighed. "Ya know, I do wish I could have a piece of tail while we waited at least. Sounds like a hell of a party is happening upstairs. Think if we ask nicely enough, they might give us a discount?"
"Like Eight Fingers ever would," The superior snarked. "Hilma prides herself on being a high-end prostitute, the same as those little maids she has in her employ. If you want tail, you're paying premium rates, party or no party. Just be thankful we can take some wine from this cellar when Cocco Doll's man gets here."
Even down there in the cellar, the sound of music and yelling was prevalent. The superior had half a mind to plug his ears with wax to escape the debauchery. He scowled at the crates of Black Dust.
What I wouldn't do to just burn the shit. Whoever fucked over the farms had the right idea.
When the superior initially got into the business, it never bothered him to sell the addictive drug. It was simply another sack of coins to him. As a younger man, he could just blow it all on alcohol and prostitutes and still have enough left over to last him 'till the next sale. It never affected him personally so he had no qualms dispensing it to the highest bidder.
Black Dust had no visible symptoms. When addiction took hold, the poor sap simply craved more and more while their brain, quite literally, rotted from the inside out. Whoever invented the stuff must be rolling around in mountains of coin.
Eight Fingers took advantage of course, hiring their fancy mercenary group, Six Arms, with the profits they raked in. He'd never met any of them personally himself, but he'd heard the stories and had an idea of what they'd be up to. He'd prefer to keep it that way.
"Hey, the music stopped. Did the party end or something?" His junior asked.
The superior shrugged. "Don't know and don't care. Just keep an ear out for the door. Any goddamn minute Cocco Doll's slaver is coming through and I just want this junk off our hands."
"What'll you do then?"
"Maybe hire one of those prostitutes you wanted a discount on and shag her loud enough for you to hear. Hope that's good enough for you."
The lookout turned beet red. "Oh, fuck you! I'm taking my money and bailing out of here. I have debts to pay and not enough time. It's bad enough I owe money to the Forone Estate! I'm sure as shit not gonna dick around until I get my head chopped off!"
As if on cue, a thundering banging came from the cellar door. The superior and lookout glanced at one another. It sounded like whoever was there was about ready to tear the door off its hinges.
"Alright, alright hold on a second!" The lookout yelled. "By the Four that sounds like a big fucker."
He walked up to the cellar door and shouted loud enough to be heard through the thick wood. "Password?"
"Bingo." A voice, faint enough that he almost didn't hear it at first, replied.
The lookout recoiled. "The hell? We're not in the mood for games. What's the password-"
He never got to finish his question, for a red armored fist immediately punched through the meter-thick wood and directly into his chest. The younger man wheezed, his skin tightening as all the blood from his body splattered against the back wall. With a sickening crunch, his ribcage collapsed in on itself once the fist pulled back.
The superior fumbled with his sword. "Holy fuck! His blood! He just punched out all his blood! What the hell!"
Next, the door flew off its hinges, nearly braining the superior. Shards of wood embedded themselves into the Black Dust crates. Through the dust, a hulking shape dressed in onyx cloth came through, his skin pale as snow. The older man shook, barely able to hold his sword up.
The man that came through was massive enough that he was a child in comparison. His cloth was a cloak fashioned in a pattern of bat wings with a silver wolf's head mounted on the right shoulder. A sharp collar of spider webs covered the pale, supernaturally handsome man's neck. His dark, nicely combed hair and brooding eyes framed angled features that would make any woman swoon at the sight of him.
Beneath the cloak was a crimson armor of smooth plate with a virgin-white tassel. The gorget was emblazoned with an unknown, intricate sigil of gold. The armor itself was tightly fitted, almost organic in its shape, as if it were more a second skin than actual plate armor. The way the dim light reflected off its surface reminded the superior of freshly spilled blood. Strangely, a blade-less hilt hung on a leather strap on the man's hip.
"Really Cuttlefish? 'Bingo'? You ought to take this more seriously. More seriously than the people upstairs at least," the man called to someone behind him. He reached out a hand, helping his compatriot through.
"I thought it'd be funny! Well, the guards upstairs didn't, but I did! Besides, I don't mind cracking a joke or two at these peoples' expense. It's not like they'll live long enough to groan about it," a woman said, daintily hopping over the busted door.
The superior's eyes bulged at the beauty that bounded into the room. She was dressed for a royal ball, with puffed-up shoulders of silky lavender and gold. A brooch attached a violet cape across her shoulders and down her right shoulder. Bouquets of purple flowers held up the smooth skirt that floated above the floor, avoiding the worst of the mess.
Thin strips of cloth embroidered in an unknown language were stitched at the seam where the skirt and upper dress connected. It all struggled mightily to contain the woman's luscious curves, the envy of any highborn woman who might otherwise wear such a dress.
What ruined the entire image were the slimy, writhing tentacles that slithered out of the v-line of the dress and from the lower back. The razor-sharp suckers gleamed hungrily, screeching in high-pitched tones. They outlined the hem of the dress and the woman's bust, though the superior had no doubt they could stretch much further to grasp unsuspecting prey.
The superior gasped when he looked at the woman's face. His bones turned to ice. "Yo-you're a- what the fuck are you?!"
"That's rude! What, is the dress that ugly?" The woman asked, striking a pose. "That's a pity. This is one of my divine-tier dresses too. You really ought to learn manners like your friends from upstairs."
"He can see your true face. You forgot to reapply your [Glamour] after we ran through the first batch of guards." The man deadpanned.
The woman, named Cuttlefish, tilted her head. "Oh, shit? I thought I was forgetting something. Oh well, I'll just put it back on when we're done here. What do you want to do with this guy?"
They casually chatted with one another, like the superior didn't exist. A similar situation had happened many times in the past when he dealt with Eight Fingers' executives. He was never worth the time of day, and that usually struck a nerve in him. This time he was willing to make an exception.
"Wh-whatever you want, it's yours," he hastily said, interrupting their conversation. "They don't pay me enough for this job. Do you want the drugs? They're yours! Take it, all of it. Just let me live!"
The hulking, vampiric-looking man sighed. "Thanks, but no thanks. We already got what we were looking for. We're just clearing out the last of you before we leave. We can't afford any witnesses."
"Wa-wait! You don't want the drugs?! I got the info! I-I can be a spy for you! I know where all the executives live! Let me go and I'll tell you everything!"
Now he was talking out of his ass. The superior, despite being a marginally higher rank than his slaughtered subordinate, was nobody in Eight Fingers. He only hoped the two before him would buy his lie long enough for him to escape.
The vampire shook his head. "Quite frankly, we don't need your help. Your kind are scum anyway, you and your dealer friends. We already know everything we need to dismantle operations until an executive rears their head. For what it's worth, we'll make it quick."
With a wave of his hand, all the blood splattered on the wall rushed to the vampiric-looking man. It formed an orb above his palm, absorbing into his skin with a hiss. The vampire's eyes turned blood-red, and prominent fangs grew out from his upper lip.
In the blink of an eye, the vampire backhanded the superior so hard that he flew into a nearby wall with a booming CRACK. He slowly slid off the wall, laying on his belly with a groan.
Through bleary eyes he tried to crawl his way toward the door, arms heavy as lead and hands swimming through molasses. He didn't make it very far, as a fist-sized object entered the middle of his back and wrapped around his spine. The hot flush of his blood running down his sides warmed him while his bones ground to dust.
The superior grit his teeth. An indescribable pressure clamped down on him. "Th-that's it, huh? Fine! You call that br-breaking my spine, you son of a bitch?! Show me how a monster snaps my fucking back then!"
All sensation in his lower half disappeared. With the sound of tearing, his upper half was flung across the door in an ironic twist of fate. He mercifully drew his last breath as soon as his head cracked against the stairs leading up to the main brothel.
Small Cuttlefish whistled, a strange noise that came out of her beak between her facial tentacles. "Damn, did you have to go so hard? You almost got some blood on my dress!"
Tepas Smith said nothing, studying his left hand covered in gore. An insatiable hunger rose from the pit of his stomach. A bit of drool clung to his fangs, and he instinctually licked his lips. Perhaps… perhaps a lick wouldn't hurt.
"Uh, you okay Tepas? You're zoning out a bit there. You've been doing that ever since we got here! Are you sure you're cut out for this?"
The vampire lord snapped out of his drunken haze. "I'm fine. I could ask the same of you, but being a mind flayer probably helps to mask most of the disgust. Besides, I saw these types of scenes all the time in my work."
"You were a detective, right? What precinct did you use to work in again?"
"Hokkaido. That's not important right now. That slaver we intercepted said the Black Dust was down here. Using my magnificent skills of deduction, the only crates in the room seem a likely culprit."
Walking over, he easily tore open the heavy containers. The lid fell with a thud, revealing sacks on sacks of the substance. Tepas used a talon to rip open a bag, snagging a small pinch of the drug.
Though the lighting was dim, Tepas Smith saw with perfect clarity because of his [Dark Vision]. "I'm not detecting any odor, and the slaver mentioned that it shouldn't have any flavor either. It's finely ground, almost like, well, dust. And it comes from a plant?"
"Ancient One and Renner mentioned that, yeah. Said they grew it out on farms out in the countryside. They used to until Nidhoggr destroyed most of them," Small Cuttlefish said.
"Hmm. I would have brought those two in for questioning if the slaver hadn't told us that everyone here was grunts. His office supplied us with sufficient evidence for Renner. You have it in your inventory, Cuttlefish?"
"I do. Not going to bring in potential suspects, Tepas? You're a bad, bad detective! Where do I file a complaint with your police chief?"
Tepas smiled slightly. "You can save it for later. Come, the doppelganger is out front. I don't want to keep our three tagalongs waiting."
Putting two fingers on his temple to send a [Message], the vampiric blade master called Nubo to secure the Black Dust shipment. A [Gate] opened in the cellar, a team of skeleton Old Guards filing through and dragging the crates inside. The ophanim thanked them for their good work and relayed that he'd have the information he needed from Cocco Doll's slaver soon.
"You guys struck gold with him," Nubo complimented. "Just a preliminary view of his memories tells us he not only knows Cocco Doll well, but they were… intimate. It'll take some time to secure all his knowledge, so you can track down the next safe house in the meantime."
"And we're sure we can trust Renner on this? I didn't think I'd ever say this, but Ancient One could be biased in his reliance on her," Tepas asked.
"What, on a little girl? Please. He's got that kid wrapped around his finger. I don't know what the hell he promised her, but she's pretty much eating out of the palm of his hand. Her info proved correct here, so it's safe to assume it'll be correct for the other hideouts."
"Even still, I don't trust her. She is… unstable."
"What teenager isn't? You and Cuttlefish just keep on chugging along. It'll be a bit before I drag out all the info I need. Relax and enjoy the sights in between raids. Don't forget you have that Tsuare girl attached to you both too."
"Right. Thank you Nubo. I look forward to our next call."
"Likewise. Stay safe, Tepas."
The call concluded, and Tepas motioned to Cuttlefish to leave the dank cellar. They traced their path back up through the brothel, the vampire admiring his handiwork.
Several bodies of men, clients of Eight Fingers, lay scattered across the hallways of that expansive place. Whimpers from the rooms told him that some of the prostitutes still cowered inside. He dared not look in, as he didn't want another shoe or piece of clothing thrown at him from scantily-clad women.
Not that it hurt anyway. It was just plain annoying. A rumble in his stomach propelled the vampire lord to pick up the pace, lest his fangs unfold and he suddenly desired to feed upon the pools of blood that stained the carpet.
Once they got to the door, Tepas held up his hand to Cuttlefish. "Don't forget to put on your [Glamour]. Is it the same template as before?"
"Yeah, it should be. It won't swap out unless I find some other buxom noble lady to impersonate. Do you know how hard it is to find someone in this world that has my size?!" Small Cuttlefish complained.
"I would say 'don't go crazy with the body sliders', but we both know your perversions always get out of hand. You and Peroroncino are birds of a feather after all, quite literally in the latter's case."
"Pfft, whatever. At least I'm not a prude when it comes to either men or women."
Small Cuttlefish waved her hand, reapplying her skill and assuming the shape of a blond, fair-skinned noble-woman that she picked out amongst many in the Baharuth Empire. There was great care taken to choose a form that was not easily recognized since that could raise alarms in Baharuth if word got back to them.
Tepas knew that her job class was that of a "chameleon", a type of psychic who could bend the minds of those around them to perceive her differently. She could also summon psychic energy to cover herself in as a sort of living shield, utilizing magic classes to summon weapons out of that same energy.
Chameleon was a shapeshifting class similar to Doppelganger, only they could not usually read surface thoughts unless they specialized in the appropriate classes as Cuttlefish did. Chameleons were also an inclusive class, meaning almost anyone could have it, unlike dopplegänger who was tied to a racial tree.
So far as he could tell, chameleons deferred no benefits from their altered form. Any stats they had came strictly from their original body, which had its pros and cons compared to the dopplegänger's ability to assume eighty percent strength of the new body they took on. Once a fight started, the [Glamour] would fade unless the user applied a binding skill beforehand.
"There, now you have your little damsel-in-distress. Happy Dracula?" Small Cuttlefish teased, her fingers dancing along Tepas Smith's shoulder.
He shrugged away. He tried not to instinctively sneer at her appearance. "Quite. I don't want to keep the driver waiting."
He pushed open the door, their carriage awaiting them just outside. Unlike the solid gold flying version that his guildmates took to the palace, his team opted for something more "under-the-radar". It was still opulent, made of a sturdy, dark wood that shone brilliantly even under the lamp-light, but it was nowhere near as flashy.
A team of sturdy horses nickered at his approach. He looked up to the driver of said wagon, who greeted him with a tip of its top half.
"Have you finished your business, my lords?" The disguised Doppelganger asked. "Master Sebas has informed me that the mansion is ready."
Tepas opened the carriage door for Small Cuttlefish. "Any news from our friends in the royal palace?"
"I am afraid not. My brethren were successful in the riot attempt though. One of them awaits you with Lady Solution and Master Sebas to give his full report before he returns to Nazarick."
"Just keep an ear out once you drop us off. I've no doubt this little detour of ours is going to turn heads. I can practically hear Ancient One drooling at the prospect of getting his hands on Eight Fingers."
Then Tepas got in the carriage himself. It was larger than normal so there was no tight fit with a heteromorph's naturally giant disposition. The carriage began to move, and he admired the city sights.
Re-Estize had a run-down, cobbled-together type of architecture. It was all very worn in a way that reflected the state of the people: hard-working and reliable but on their last legs. It did hold a Victorian beauty to it, how the stone buildings and magic lamp fixtures applied a rustic lens to the capital.
The nightlife, despite all the misgivings the country suffered, was still quite lively. The doppelganger assured them their mission would not be heard by the outside world, which was true since not one native threw a second glance their way. All manner of drunkards and their friends bustled the streets.
How can they still think to have any fun at a time like this?
Then he remembered that they were in an affluent part of the capital, the playground of the nobility and their spawn. With their silken suits and dresses and glittering jewelry, they displayed their wealth with absolutely no shame. The way they laughed, how they walked, they oozed snobbery.
He wished he could slap them all awake to reality.
"Almost like the executives in Japan, huh?" Small Cuttlefish suddenly said.
He looked at her in surprise. "Pardon?"
"All those people running around at night. They remind me of all the shitty executives in Tokyo. Sure, there was less acid rain with the air purifiers, but only the richest could still afford a genuine beer," she clarified.
He laughed lightly. "I suppose. I was fortunate that I did it on their dime. Had to deal with many clients that way. Better to get them drunk and stupid to pour their hearts out than pretend you have any sympathy for their pettiness."
"I thought you worked in the Hokkaido district."
"I took up private work too. It wasn't glamorous but it paid the bills and then some. You'd think they'd have better things to do with their time than seek me out to find a lost dog or find out if their girlfriend was cheating on them, or whether their boss was planning to fire them over some imagined slight."
"Was it really like that?"
"It was even worse. The stories I could share would entertain us for days. Why, this one time my wife and I-"
Tepas Smith caught himself, cursing silently at his near slip-up. He tried to stamp away the growing feeling of revulsion that constricted his heart, tried to banish the memory of dark hair and darker eyes glaring hatefully at him. Never again. Never again.
"You keep doing that. It's always zoning out with you whenever you seem to mention her. Do you need to… talk about it?" The mind flayer asked tenderly, resting her hand on his forearm.
Again he pulled away, grumbling. "It's nothing. Just unpleasant memories are all. There's no need to burn down Salem when the witch is long gone."
She cocked his head at him. "God, you do consume too much European Literature. Where did that one come from, the Crucible?"
"That's not your concern. Just… I do not wish to discuss it anymore. We're almost to the mansion anyway." He said, seeing that they were close.
Much like their neighbors, the mansion was designed to be as expensive and gaudy as possible. He had no idea what the guild paid for it, but it wasn't even a drop in the ocean of riches Ainz Ooal Gown had. The seller looked like he'd pass out from the sack of platinum coins for just that building.
The best part was that it was inconspicuous. Their cover story was that they were a successful merchant couple that wished to settle in prime real estate. Arwinter was too far away from their business, and they dared not stray too far away from his "darling wife's" father while he was ill.
They came with their servants but otherwise wanted a quiet and relaxing life in the capital of Re-Estize. They might do some networking, or so they told the one who sold the mansion.
Personally, Tepas would have preferred any other cover story. He had no desire to be married again, fake or not, but Punitto Moe insisted upon it. It added legitimacy to their claims. With Solution embarking on the mission with them, she could easily pass as their spoiled-rotten daughter.
Going through the gates and circling around the fountain in front, the carriage ground to a halt. Tepas came out first, holding open the door and helping Cuttlefish out. With how ostensibly thick her dress was, it could be difficult getting out.
"I wish you well on your mission, my lords," the doppelganger driver said. "I now must go and pick up Lord Ra Ra Rasputin and Lady Ariel. They have an appointment with the surviving Adventurer's Guild and Magician's Guild. I pray to you, the Forty-One, that it sails smoothly."
With a snap of the reins, the carriage rode off into the night. The double doors to the mansion slid open right after, revealing the prim and proper Sebas Tian.
"Ah good, you arrived safely," the elderly-looking NPC greeted. "Young Tsuare has prepared food and drink for your arrival tonight. I dare say she's done a fine job of it as well."
"Solution hasn't been giving her a hard time?" Tepas asked while taking off his cloak. He folded it and handed it off to Sebas.
"Not quite, my lord. I am rather surprised by her patience. Though I might be so bold as to claim that Lord HeroHero's affections have softened her heart," the butler replied. He took Small Cuttlefish's hand in a gentlemanly manner, guiding her into the house.
Small Cuttlefish batted her eyelashes, which looked strange since she still appeared human. "Touch Me knows how to make a man treat a lady well! Others should be taking notes from you, Mr. Tian."
"I serve at the behest of the Supreme Beings, my lady. Please, through the foyer here. Your favorite snacks await both of you."
All three walked through the mansion, Tepas not really taking the time to explore anything. He had no real interest in the place, since it merely acted as a resting place after missions. He did get his own office, which he foresaw spending much time in.
As they approached the dining room, two female voices could be heard. Passing the threshold, Tepas was greeted by the sight of Solution and their latest charge, Tsuareninya Veryon. The latter was dressed like one of the homunculus maids of Nazarick, while the former adorned a yellow dress that showed off more cleavage than he cared for.
"No! You place the salad fork on the left side, just above the dessert fork. Remember to use the points of the folded napkin as a reference point for how they should be situated," Solution said, pointing out some flaw the former knight made.
Tsuare bobbed her head thoughtfully. "Do you mean like this? Isn't it silly to have so many different forms for so many different things? Why not just use the same utensil?"
"Because it dilutes the flavor! You wish for the one you serve to enjoy each flavor individually, not taint it with another," the predator slime explained. She stood ramrod straight when she saw Tepas Smith, Small Cuttlefish, and Sebas Tian walk in.
Tsuare noticed as well, almost knocking the utensils out of place when she turned. "D-did you have a safe trip? Is that blood I smell on you?"
"We had a bit of a run in with some inconsiderate neighbors," Tepas deadpanned. He made his way to the table and slid into a chair.
Small Cuttlefish followed him. "Yeah, but we did get an idea on our next hit! I got the plans right here. Uh, let me see where I can put it on the table…"
Said table was laden with a spread of confectioneries. Technically, mind flayers could only eat brains belonging to humanoids in order to satiate their appetite. Vampires like Tepas Smith, naturally, only drank blood. Still, the gesture to make baked goods was appreciated, and the vampire lord spied crimson, viscous liquid in one of the tea cups.
Likewise, Cuttlefish dug into a plate of cookies with brain-matter chips. She pulled the document they secured at the brothel out of her inventory, unfurling it after pushing aside some plates.
"Okay, so the deal is that we got confirmation that Renner's info was accurate. She must have been collecting everything for a while now cause she even told us the exact office where they keep all their shipping manifests. Even got a list of other safe-houses that they keep product in," Cuttlefish said between mouthfuls of brain cookie.
"A woman named Hilma Cygnaeus owns many of the brothels in the capital," Tepas filled in, "and she's been cooperating with another executive from Eight Fingers named Coco Doll, who's invested in the slave trade."
Sebas looked over the document, a thoughtful look on his bearded face. "This document explains all of that? Forgive me, my lords, but it seems I cannot read it properly. Is it the natural language of this world?"
"Could be, but Renner warned it would be encoded most likely," Cuttlefish shrugged. "Which is fine. We're sending this to Renner so she can decode it. We already have the locations to hit, we're kinda, I don't know, evidence collecting I guess?"
Tepas tapped the paper. "A bit crude but not far off the mark. We're gathering information that Renner can further use as blackmail. She has inklings from her own spies about the extent of Eight Fingers, but it never hurts to have things in writing. Legitimizes any future claims she might make if she has to."
"So is she to be involved with Eight Fingers as well, my lords? What about Six Arms? Will they not pose a problem if they are not dealt with?" Solution asked.
The chameleon mind flayer threw up her arms in exasperation. "Beats me. That little girl gives me the willies, which says something considering my hobby. Ancient One wants them under our thumb, both of them. Maybe he wants to beat them with a stick himself."
Tepas Smith, observant as he was, noticed that Tsuare was unnaturally quiet. She fidgeted with the hem of her maid outfit. She kept glancing down at herself as if in disbelief. Flashes of anger and revulsion in her face made her mood easy to read.
That was expected. Up until four months ago, she'd been a purebred warrior. Now she was serving her punishment for the atrocities she committed as a maid-in-training. He couldn't imagine a worse one-eighty from fighting on the battlefield to becoming a house-hold servant.
At least Ulbert was lenient on her. There are worse things that could've happened if he was in a foul mood that day.
He idly wondered how her group, the Knights of the Weeping King, were integrating back in Elysium. There was no doubt they were in capable hands, since Momonga went through the trouble of resurrecting a suitable leader in Tsuare's absence. That experimental city of theirs would yield interesting results yet.
Still, Tepas adjusted himself and addressed Tsuare. "From what I understand, Miss Veryon, you might've been involved with this group yourself if not for your brethren's timely intervention. Is this talk making you… uncomfortable?"
Tsuare shook her head. "No, Mr.-Lord Tepas. If anything, I'm glad you're putting down those vermin. It means fewer women like me are in their disgusting clutches if they're all rotting."
"I already know how you would deal with them if you had the chance. You carved a sizable chunk out of them before we got a hold of you."
She flinched but stood her ground. Some respect for the girl grew because of that. "Either way, it's no longer my place to do anything. I'm charged with making amends, and amends I shall make."
Tepas stared at her hard, studying the way she avoided his gaze. There was still a burning shame for what she did. Tepas relaxed, content that her intentions remained pure.
"You will see your friends again, Veryon," he said. "Touch Me just has to release you once he's satisfied. At this pace, you'll be home in no time."
This time Tsuareninya looked at him, blue eyes meeting blood-red, and smiled softly. "Speaking of him. Is that really his name or a joke of his?"
"Tsuare!" Solution shouted, scandalized by the question.
"Oh, oh, I'll answer that one!" Small Cuttlefish said, raising her hand like a child. "It's actually because it's just a shortened version of 'Touch-Me-If-You-Can' since he's such a god at fighting. Nobody, not even Takemikazuchi, can land a steady hit on him. Which is total bullshit by the way. Takemikazuchi is easily the strongest, fastest, most powerful warrior-"
Tepas cleared his throat. "Suffice to say, it's more akin to a nickname. Trust me, we've all had the same reaction the first time we heard it. I think it's something from his… wife. Never had clarification on if 'Touch-Me-If-You-Can' was actually the full title."
Something was lost in translation. Tsuareninya was completely flabbergasted by what they told her. She wisely remained silent since Solution was still glaring at her.
Sebas surprisingly chuckled with a wry smile, as if he knew the truth of the matter. Tepas raised an eyebrow but didn't push it. Some things should remain a secret.
Unlike the executives of Eight Fingers and their enforcers. One way or another, every last member of theirs would be dragged kicking and screaming towards judgment.
Hello dear readers,
I hope you're all doing well this fine weekend. Sorry I didn't get to post this yesterday, but college has been slowly but surely grinding me down. Doesn't help that I also have an undergraduate thesis to write and the last of my law school application to complete haha. Hopefully, I'll get to write more in the coming weeks as I finish up the more important items on my checklist.
Also wanted to say I am sorry I haven't been able to get out the Ulbert Side Story yet. That is on my list of priorities, just been pushed back due to college coursework. I'm just as excited as you all are to get it into your hands.
As always, I wish to thank my beta team at the Library of Ashurbanipal discord server, where I and other regulars hang out. Without their help and you dear readers, this story wouldn't be possible. Also, happy three years of ATOg everyone! Crazy to believe that it's already been three years since I started this magnificent journey. I look forward to another three years and some of you who eventually make it to the discord server. Please, don't hesitate to reach out to my gmail of dynobot0102 or my fanfic dms. I always try to respond as quickly as possible even if the notifications don't reach me super quickly.
Until you find the other eight!