Ninth Floor of Nazarick, Tabula's Personal Suite and Laboratory
To one such as Tabula Smaragdina, there existed within everything a contradiction. A great flaw, or strength, or contest of will, that contrasted greatly with its origins and creation.
Where there was perfection, there had to be imperfection. For every shade of white there existed a shade of black. Every kind word hid an insult. Every fresh fruit picked only belied the rotting stench of unpicked harvest.
He reveled in it. For such contradictions provided excitement. A sort of harsh beating in his chest and a spike of adrenaline as if he'd been freshly terrified by the latest horror film or piece of literature.
In a way, he supposed this made him a bit of a connoisseur. A sampler of the fine art of terror in his eternal chase to always find that feeling of exhilaration at being downright scared of something.
And as of right now, he was facing perhaps the greatest contradiction of his life. A horror so profound and bone-chilling it put all his previous highs to shame.
"Father, might I interest you in some sugar for your tea?" Asked a voice directly across from him, kind and innocent despite its appalling visage.
Indeed, he was forced to attend a sort of tea party with his creations. His beloved NPCs, Albedo, Nigredo, Rubedo, and Citrinitas. All four a reference to the great Philosopher's Stone itself, back in the old days at least.
His thin, willowy, but tall form sat hunched over in an entirely too plush and velvety chair. His facial tentacles whipped around at their tips in impatience and, oddly, anxiety. The ragged cloak he typically wore was wrapped tightly around his thin frame.
Perhaps the horror came not from having to deal with something so mundane as drinking and enjoying tea, like he was now. Perhaps it came from the very idea that now he was having to reap what he had sown all those years ago.
The voice from earlier was Nigredo, a hideous and deformed creature who's visage was hidden by the thick wall of black hair that grew from her scalp. The only portions visible of her skinless face were the shockingly beautiful eyes and pearly teeth she had.
Her dress was as dark as her hair, torn at the edges of her sleeves and gown. For the main body, it was perfectly sewn into a remarkably well-crafted piece of fabric.
In one of her pale arms was a Raggedy Ann baby doll, with that same hand carrying a pair of brightly polished shears. Her signature weapon for mercilessly tearing apart her enemies, at least when she wasn't pacified like she was now.
Tabula shook his head at his eldest creation. "No… I think I'm good with what I have, thank you."
To prove his point, he reached out from his cloak and gripped the saucer and porcelain cup with his webbed, elongated fingers. The fine China clacked as he brought it up to his beak and savored the lemon honey flavored beverage, before setting it down.
Another voice huffed. "Really? You want to offer dad sugar for something this sweet already? If I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to kill him with all that sweetness."
The owner of that voice was Citrinitas, the sort of "middle child" to his quartet of creations. She looked far more human than her older sibling, but bearing a fanged smile that could easily rival a sharks. Her bright eyes were full of mirth, active and seeking any sort of stimuli to cross her vision with.
Rather than a dress, she wore an insane asylum straight jacket, a mess of buckles dangling loosely to allow her arms free movement as she pleased. Her bottom half consisted of a pair of safety-orange, prison jumpsuit pants.
Though he couldn't see it now, he recalled her build to be athletic and lithe in a predatory fashion. Her short brown hair was as sharp as her teeth, poking up as a natural defensive shield. Her feet, also, were barefoot.
"I merely was wishing to see if he required anything else, as a good daughter should," Nigredo snapped, some of her hair floating to reveal the spasming, exposed muscle beneath. "As the eldest, it is my duty to ensure I set a good example for the rest of you."
"There is no reason for you two to get so worked up. It's just some tea time. Try to enjoy yourselves and relax in our father's presence," Albedo, the overseer of the floor guardians themselves, stepped in.
Her hands were clasped in her lap, looking as prim and proper as possible, just as Tabula envisioned for her. Her waist-high wings fluttered and folded against the sides of her own chair, confined by the arms of the furniture.
A regal image of feminine beauty in his eyes. Her frilly white dress complimented her creamy skin and figure wonderfully, alongside the elbow length gloves she had on.
The horns that curved out from her temples framed her face so as to set attention on her eyes, a gorgeous gold with the black slits of a feline. Onyx hair flowed royally down to her lower legs.
While he put an equal amount of love and attention into all four of his NPC's designs, he couldn't help but to admit that of them all, Albedo was the one who caught his eye easiest.
Maybe it was the innocence that her original aura perpetuated. Her motherly instinct that her backstory said compelled her to perform all the duties of a housewife. The way in which her personality was written to be able to change at the drop of a hat.
At least until she was tampered with previously before the guild's transportation into a whole new world.
At first, she seemed fine, and though his blood boiled at times thinking of how Whitebrim, Peroroncino, Bukubukuchagama, and Ulbert Alain Odle changed her, he overlooked their transgression after the initial outburst he had.
Albedo's subsequent obsession with his guild leader, while annoying to listen to almost all day, was manageable, as it seemed to be the only aspect affected by the meddling.
But little by little over the last three weeks, he noticed new changes in her personality and mannerisms. They were not major, but to his keen eyes, they might as well have blinded him.
She took up a new hobby in oil painting and free hand drawing, preferring to spend a good portion of her spare time working on self portraits and landscape pieces. Such works of art often found themselves littered around her room.
What also concerned him was how when he came to said room, he found it filled with veritable mountains of Momonga plushies and body pillows. Hand crafted and sewn with such tender love and care it would make a lesser man sick.
Even more disturbing was, when he investigated the bed, he found…erotic literature and some damp spots where she would lie. The nature of said media was of neglected noblewomen being swept off their feet by wayward, dashing kings from far-off lands.
And now, her latest change came in the form of this new pastime: gathering up the "family" for some tea and talk.
The entire arrangement? Albedo's idea. Bringing together all the NPCs and their creator in one spot? Also her wish. All done as a complete surprise, waiting for him once he returned to his private abode.
The way that the table was arranged, the cephalopod player and his NPCs all sat circular, with Albedo on his left, and Citrinitas to his right. Next to Citrinitas was Rubedo, who in turn was seated next to Nigredo.
Platters of sparkling porcelain were perfectly arrayed, laden high with fresh pastries of all varieties. Saucers and their cups were filled with the chosen steaming beverage already.
Rubedo, the youngest of Tabula's creations, left her cup alone. Her nature as a more technological creature dictated that she had no need for such frivolities.
"Yes. Albedo is right. Please be peaceful for this," she said simply and rested both hands on the table.
Tabula took that opportunity to address the mechanical NPC. "So, how are you feeling today? Did your, ah, start-up go along without a hitch?"
She stared back at him with emotionless eyes. "Yes. All systems are functional. Why? Did you need something? A target eliminated?"
"No, no. Of course not. Just wanted to make sure that you were feeling okay," the braineater said smoothly, taking another sip of his tea.
"Why bother with Spinel, father? Obviously she's fine. She's just as heartless and dull as always. Her 'different' creation has allowed for this quite easily, just as intended," Nigredo practically spat.
Citrinitas smacked her eldest sister on the arm. "Hey, knock it off! Don't do that with Dad here! Are you really questioning his decisions so lightly?"
The interaction was something he wasn't sure how to handle, so he merely raised a wrinkled ridge above his eye in question.
This immediately got the slasher inspired NPC to backpedal. "Er-of course not. I merely wished to say that, ah, father has done what he has done, and that he knows everything there is to know about ourselves. It was merely a poorly worded question on my end is all!"
Albedo frowned. "Even still, this is a time to enjoy one another's company, and not reopen old wounds. Save it for later, dear sister."
Nigredo said nothing more, looking like a brutally murdered, kicked puppy with the way her eyes shifted downwards in shame.
When Tabula's glassy fish eyes swiveled to Rubedo, she hadn't even flinched. She was in the same position as before, with not so much as a hair out of place.
Said automaton was a…unique specimen, even amongst her other siblings. When she was first being created, Tabula actually had to get input and advice from Amanomahitotsu on how to properly make her.
She was a being known as a warforged, or a perfect blending of technology and organic engineering to produce a creature that was the best of both worlds.
It was said that typical warforged could experience stimuli like emotion and pain, but in accordance with Tabula's Gap Moe ideology, he had suppressed such liberties save for specific circumstances.
Her attire consisted of a purple, skin tight suit that hugged her subtle curves, with light pink, heavily armored pauldrons and clawed gauntlets that were all connected to each other.
The chest was left open, with red bands going across the chest and waist to secure her armor. A pair of thigh highs were her choice of clothing in lieu of proper pants. Her boots were similarly well plated and even had slight high heels to give her extra height.
Her pale skin conflicted with the midnight black hair she had, highlights of jade green streaking through as a finishing touch to her overall look. But her eyes, oh, her eyes were dead. Nothing ever flashed through them. No light. No darkness. Only oblivion.
It was for the best, Tabula reasoned, that her emotions be pressed far down into her subconsciousness. He'd hate to have to deal with a weeping NPC.
"I do not mind," Rubedo said in her quiet monotone. "Nigredo is correct. I was made different. It was intentional."
"Even still. You're all my creations, and I want you to all get along. Which means you don't start dragging the others down, understand?" The alchemist answered as sternly as he could manage.
Not necessarily difficult, as his new voice was naturally cold and demanding sounding. At times when he spoke to another, he had the urge to apologize for seeming too direct with his wording.
All four of the siblings nodded, while Nigredo seemed to sink in on herself deeper into her chair.
The atmosphere was thick with tension, despite his words, making the braineater squirm in his seat to avoid the awkwardness of the situation. Before he could break it himself, Citrinitas spoke up.
"You know, I was just thinking the other day about Lady Ariel and that little human girl she met from the human adventuring team in E-Rantel. I think they were called the Daggers of Darkness?"
"I think you mean the Swords of Darkness, and yes? What of them? Do you believe that they could be of use? Did Lord Momonga mention something?" Albedo asked, her voice even but her grip on the tea cup just a bit too tight from the cracks spreading through it.
"Ha, no! No, I was thinking about how that pleiade CZ Delta mentioned in her report that Lady Ariel seemed to be teaching the girl some of her lessons. I was thinking about how now that everyone can't really venture far from the tomb, dad needs something to pass the time."
"What is your point?" Rubedo asked, "Father has everything he needs. The tomb provides all. What could he need?"
Citrinitas huffed, displaying her razor teeth in a teasing smile. "Come on. You mean to tell me that you don't see it? None of you?"
Tabula watched as Albedo's eyes lit up in realization at a point he was still trying to get at. Nigredo, who had been wallowing in her shame, also slowly rose out of her chair as she apparently reached the same conclusion.
In an effort not to embarrass himself, he merely picked up his cup and took another sip. His beak caught on the edge, scratching the material as he dragged it away.
He perfected his thousand yard stare years ago, allowing no-one to accurately read him unless he specifically wanted to.
Which is why he held his composure when all four of his "daughters" turned their heads to look at him expectedly. Citrinitas held the most excitement out of all of them, her own slitted eyes practically glowing.
To think that these little creations of mine could be so dependent upon me. Bah! And that I actually agreed to them referring to me as their father. Strangely, I do not mind as much as I thought I would. Ah well, back to the situation at hand.
"Of course," Tabula started neutrally. "One can only keep themselves so preoccupied for so long. It would be nice to have…something else to do, other than just practicing potion making by myself everyday."
The insane asylum patient inspired NPC shot her sisters a smug look. "See what I mean? Dad's already got this covered. Still, I didn't think he'd be wanting to take on an apprentice so quickly."
The alchemist nearly choked on his own spit, having to clench the armrest of his chair to calm himself and not make a scene in front of his creations.
Unperturbed, Nigredo jumped into the conversation. "With Lord Momonga's suggestion, it is only natural that father should try and fill his time with something worthwhile."
"Perhaps a human?" Rubedo inquired, "They are plentiful. Many possess great potential. Finding one worthy would not be difficult."
"A human? He could just as easily ask any of us for that matter. Or someone far more exceptional within Nazarick. There is no need to waste time with such lower lifeforms," Albedo huffed.
Tabula's eyes darted around the table as each of the sisters gave their own input, speculating as to who or what he could take on as an apprentice, and what that might entail.
They were off in their own little world, not even noticing how the braineater sat there and watched them prattle on about details he hadn't even dreamed up subconsciously.
An apprentice? Like someone I'd have to train? I don't know the first thing about that! How would I even go about finding one, or teaching them effectively? What would I even have to offer? Well, actually, I do have my job experience in chemistry, but would that even apply in this world?
His thoughts turned to the alchemical bench he had set up in the corner of his private suite.
Unlike the rest of his room, which had a "modern" styling to its furnishings like something out of a twenty-first century housing magazine, it was archaic and looked like something straight out of the genre of steampunk. Though it clashed with the modern aesthetic, the contrasting nature satisfied him deeply.
Right before the Old Net collapsed, he'd browse ancient housing market websites for hours, fantasizing about the types of homes he'd own if he had the salary of a CEO.
Out of all the styles he saw, modern style housing was his favorite. Something about the geometric shapes enthralled him, so he'd made sure to design his own room to closely resemble it as possible.
The bright white walls had almost hurt his eyes at first, but they quickly adjusted once he changed the ambience of his room to be darker than usual.
Sharp edges and lines traced intricate squares that either sank in or rose up out of the walls, sometimes providing natural spots to sit on or rest against.
Tabula wasn't sure if it was his new eyesight, which naturally distorted some shapes when he stared at them long enough, or just the formatting of the room, but there were times it looked like the room itself was sliding around on its own axis.
It never made him nauseous, thankfully, but he could only imagine what sort of fresh hell it would put a normal mind through.
A normal mind, huh? Funny, that doesn't sound quite right. Can't exactly say I'm normal anymore, but then again, it doesn't feel like I'm feeling any differently…right?
Those thoughts were tuned out to allow the cephalopod player back into the fierce debate his "daughters" were having, all four of them leaning over slightly to convey their points.
"I am certain Lady Cuttlefish might be more than happy to learn from father. She has always expressed an interest in his work before. Perhaps that was an invitation to begin teaching her." Albedo argued, folding her hands.
Nigredo shook her head. "No! Clearly it should be someone more attuned to father's wishes! I believe that a fellow appreciator of the dark arts like Lady Tempest Aizawa or Lord Temperance would be in order."
"Aren't you guys missing the point?" Citrinitas asked, resting her cheek on her forearm, "Dad is the one who gets to pick somebody. He's the Supreme Being of Alchemy and Forbidden Knowledge, so I'm sure he already has somebody in mind."
Panic, diluted as it was, got Tabula's heart to start pumping at those words. Though for a brief moment he thought he heard multiple heart beats within his chest.
Damn, don't even get a moment to ponder this huh? Well, an apprentice does sound intriguing, but I'd need to prepare. First, I need to figure out who I'd even want.
Rubedo, who'd been quiet for most of the debate he'd only caught the snippet of, chose to voice her own opinion.
"What of the human alchemist? His designation is Nfirea Barreare. He was prominent in E-Rantel. He was rescued after its fall."
The slasher NPC huffed, her black hair floating again. "A human again? Why do you care for them so much? I disagree with Albedo in that all humans are worthless, but most are."
"Actually, Nfirea sounds promising," Tabula said, making his NPCs focus on him. "If I remember the report correctly, he had a special ability that allowed him to utilize any magical item regardless of restrictions. I wonder how he could utilize that."
That pacified Nigredo just as good as her doll did. "Ah yes. His abilities could be most useful to you, father. Either in learning your ways or as a test subject, perhaps?"
"How curious that you seem to change your tune when our father speaks. I can only wonder why," Albedo rolled her eyes but smiled regardless, taking another sip of her tea.
The warforged NPC stared blankly at her creator with the same type of dead eyed look he was giving back to her. But in those shallow irises, he could almost detect the satisfaction from her in him accepting her proposal.
Her face was as inviting as a Stygian Iron wall, but that didn't mean Tabula couldn't get past from time to time to see what was really going on in her head.
Among the four, Rubedo's steely gaze brought a sort of comfort to the braineater. At least with her, among the general chaos of her siblings, she could be counted on not to allow her emotions to get the better of her.
Even still, I have to be careful with them. If the others knew the sort of liberties I've taken with them, like with Albedo and Ginnungagap, there's no telling what they might do to me.
Thankfully, he'd had the foresight to log on early for the last day of Yggdrasil, to make sure to take back the world item from the head guardian before anyone else could see.
If someone like Punitto Moe or Ancient One had seen what he'd done, he was sure that his borderline tantrum would've paled in comparison to the strategists' wrath.
But that was in the past, and now he has decided to stay far and away from such temptations like giving world items to his NPCs. At least, those that could be physically seen.
Out of sight. Out of mind. Plus I can just take the damn thing out of her chest whenever I need to.
"If I'm going to take Nfirea on as an apprentice, we need to do a few things first," Tabula said, ensuring he had the attention of his creations. "First, we're gonna need a new residence to have him be at. There's no way in hell the others are gonna want an outsider trapezing around the tomb."
"I'll see what I can do," Albedo responded immediately, "I'll need to confirm it with Lords Punitto Moe, Ancient One, and Momonga, but surely they'll see reason once they hear your plans."
Tabula already figured she would say such a thing, for he held up a webbed hand. "No…at least not the first two. Knowing them, they won't go back on their word. Momonga I could convince, and there's others I'd like to inform. The less who know, the better."
The overseer's eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded dutifully. "Very well, may I at least accompany you when you do go see my love?"
The hopeful tone in her voice was subtle, sounding more like a professional courtesy rather than a longing to be close to the one she had (forcibly) fallen in love with. At first, such declarations and admissions of romance were far more pronounced.
Now they had changed, much like the rest of Albedo's personality seemed to be doing. Tabula wasn't sure what to make of the changes, but right now, they weren't a concern.
Tabula sighed anyways. "Sure. But let's go get those other people first that I mentioned. Come on, let's go pay Small Cuttlefish a visit."
All four of the NPCs rose at the same time as he did, with the succubus clapping her hands once. The entire tea party array began to fold in on itself, while the pastries were wrapped in bow tied boxes no larger than the sugar cubes accompanying the tea.
In the span of about five seconds, the whole set of furniture and food had collapsed into a briefcase, which rolled itself to a corner of Tabula's room and lay inert.
Huh. So that's how she got it in here. I don't recall ever getting something like that though.
Citrinitas held the door open for the braineater, with Nigredo, Rubedo, and Albedo trailing behind him single file and then taking up spots on either side once outside.
The group of five didn't venture far, as the fellow cephalopod player lived only about a few meters down the hallway from him.
The living quarters appeared small from the outside, from how close the doors were to each other, but the insides themselves were far larger than one would believe.
Walking in and out was always an experience, as while it didn't disorient Tabula, the inherent Gap Moe of the room structure for his portion of the living quarters always excited him.
As soon as he was in front of the door, he knocked in a pattern of three times, then twice in a space of two seconds. A secret knock he developed himself to let his friends know that it was always him specifically that had come to visit.
It'd taken a few times, but by now his friends had remembered once they settled into the tomb as their permanent residence.
A muffled voice cried out from the other side of the door. "Come in! Mind your feet though!"
This time it was Nigredo who opened the door, bowing her head as the alchemist passed through. She quickly fell in line behind him, ahead of the other siblings which trailed.
As per Small Cuttlefish's request, he took care to look down and very carefully stepped over the trail of fabric that had seemingly unwound itself from a board of more of it across the room.
From what Tabula recalled of the mindflayer's personal life, she had been an aspiring fashionista, a trait shared with the Solar Bard Whitebrim. However, she had also taken up a hobby in writing as well.
The first time the two ever interacted was when the two had been inducted on the same day, though not necessarily at the same time. As both took their vows to never harm the guild in any way, shape, or form and then officially became guildmates, Cuttlefish was the first to find and reach out to him.
"Hi, nice to be your guildmate," she had said, quite stiff and formal but shy, "I look forward to playing together with you!"
She struck out a hand to him, which surprised him at first, until he remembered that overseas players grew to be far more common in the Japanese dominated DMMO-RPG over the years.
So instead of a proper bow, as expected of his customs, he shook her hand. "A pleasure. I'm sure we'll have lots of fun together."
The mindflayer emoted a bright smile, and then the two were given an extensive tour of their guild base at the time, for it wouldn't be for another few years until Nazarick was found and conquered.
Said female player was hunched over a mahogany desk, various tomes of loose parchment floating around in the air, alongside sewing machines, mannequins, and outfits of all colors and styles.
Tabula walked up to his friend of nearly eight years from behind, making sure not to stomp too loudly with his hoof shaped shoes so as to not interrupt her writing.
Once he drew in closer, he could hear her mumbling under her breath, her tone deep and ominous as she recited the words she scribbled onto the parchment she had in hand.
"And from black seas of infinite depths, there lay a dead god and his followers. And lo and behold, on the third moon they rose from their darkened slumber to slaughter the land-born heathens who would scorch them from the earth…," she muttered.
Cuttlefish paused in her writing, tapping her pencil against the corner of her media. "How's that sound Tabby? Think that'll fit in with my one-shot?"
Tabula chuckled, his facial tentacles writhing around. "I'd say you need to be a little more dramatic with your writing. Any less and then you don't capture that 'horror movie' feel I enjoy so much."
"Right, because the only one I'm writing for is you," the mindflayer said with a giggle, before setting her writing utensil down and rising from her chair.
Unlike most of the other guild members within Ainz Ooal Gown, who designed their avatars to be as monstrously inhuman and "evil" as possible, Small Cuttlefish opted for something a bit more…tame.
Most of her body was still otherworldly, for her exposed, grey skin glistened with moisture and was a smooth, slippery texture through and through. Eyes of marble sparkled with refracted light, with pupils almost too light to see under normal circumstances.
There was a single, slithering tentacle that draped down to her generous bust and beyond, with numerous tentacles of descending length all the way to her neck. The smaller tendrils were tipped with a flat pad like a squid's with darker grey suckers lined with triangular teeth.
Her attire consisted of a black dress bottom sewn with the style of silvery fish scales, with an armored top consisting of a molded breastplate with exposed shoulders and bracers of Star Silver. Her hands ended in three fingers and a thumb, tipped with pitch talons.
Along the seams of her fabric portions were borders of orchid purple to add a splash of color. A massive collar flared up from the chestplate not unlike the fins of a fish.
The clothing itself was not overly tight, but Cuttlefish's avatar's figure had been exaggerated with more "womanly" features to stand out among her fellow heteromorphs.
Tabula wasn't entirely sure of all the details, but he'd heard from a second hand source that the mindflayer was once ashamed of her real-life body, so she had taken it upon herself to design the one she'd always wanted within Yggdrasil's expansive creation menu.
Of course, certain "aspects" were enhanced beyond most typical women, even blessed, though it was possible that it was merely a result of the cephalopod's own hidden degeneracy.
The mindflayer embraced Tabula, who himself patted her on the back. They disengaged after a few moments and Cuttlefish crossed her arms.
"So what can I do you for? You know my manuscript won't be ready for a while, and you only just proofread it the other day. Did you need a wardrobe change?"
He couldn't put his finger on it, but the way her words formed and sounded made it seem like her voice was older than it really was. More mature, more ancient and knowledgeable than what she was really capable of.
The braineater shook his head. "A few things actually, including an outfit I'd like to commission, but first, let me give you some background."
A few minutes of explanation later, Cuttlefish wrapped one of her tentacles around her index finger in thought. She didn't have a visible mouth, but the alchemist could practically see it curving upwards anyways in his mind's eye.
"An apprentice? Somehow, that sounds very much like you, but I gotta agree with you on a few points. The others definitely won't want anybody from outside just barging in here, so how do you plan to get a new place up so quickly?" She asked.
"I have a few items I can use to get the house set up quickly without the need for many minions. That village, Carne, is close to the Forest of Tob. I'm thinking I could set up shop there."
"And what about actually getting the guy? Nfirea was his name right? You'll have to be pretty damn convincing to make him want to leave wherever he's holed up just to come 'learn' from you."
Already a plan was formulating in Tabula's head for that aspect of the idea, but he internally groaned as he realized who he'd have to visit next.
Knowing Wish III, he's gonna demand some kind of premium for his help, the sleaze. Can't be helped, I suppose.
"You don't worry about that," the older cephalopod said, "I'll get that part handled, but here's what I'm gonna need from you personally."
He began to explain the sort of outfit he'd want for his "mentorship", while Cuttlefish's left eyebrow ridge rose higher and higher as he went on.
The outfit he envisioned was something he'd always wanted just as a guilty pleasure. He wasn't a chuunibyou by any stretch of the imagination, but he couldn't help but admit that some of the outfits were unique and hit a horror movie-esque feel within him.
But there was never any reason or opportunity to waste a guildmate's time who had a few levels in sewing, in his eyes at least. He'd let the matter go for years, until now.
By the time he was finished, the chameleon class player was completely silent, most likely pondering his request. The look of awe on her face made Tabula feel warm, and for his skin to begin moistening more.
Rather than reply outright, she turned back to her desk and reached into a side drawer and opened it. She reached inside and pulled out a tape measure, like the sort that wouldn't be out of place at a construction site.
"When I'm done with you, you'll be one of the most fashionably horrifying eldritch monsters this side of Nazarick," Cuttlefish exclaimed with pride, stars practically flashing through her eyes.
"That's good to hear, now for the other thing I need," Tabula said, looking over his shoulder at Albedo. "Albedo, you were one of the ones who helped to translate those books we got from Gazef, right? You, Demiurge, and Pandora's Actor?"
The overseer inclined her head. "Indeed. Once we developed a cipher for this world's language, we were able to decode it relatively quickly. About two days to be precise."
"Would you say that you have a pretty good grasp on linguistic rules and formulation then?"
"It should be no issue. Why, what did you have in mind, father?" Albedo inquired with a curious head tilt.
Tabula turned to face her fully. "How do you feel about writing an admissions letter?"
The Re-Estize Capital, Royal Courtroom
"Those are our people! Our loyal citizens and kin! You can't seriously expect that we leave them to fend for themselves!"
"Oh? Would you prefer that we waste perfectly good men out into a ruined city to become infested with negative energy sickness?! A full scale evacuation is tantamount to suicide, and the best we could possibly do is send supplies to encourage the survivors to leave and make the journey here."
"That's not good enough! My king, please, reconsider the course of action here. These people are our blood. Surely we can do more to alleviate their suffering?"
Thus the conversation went between the marquises Elias Brandt Dale Raevan and Blumrush Rose Daevar. The two members of the Six Great Nobles argued fiercely between each other for a little more than an hour.
Gazef watched from King Ramposa's side with professional stoicness, his eyes never lingering too long on any of the Six Great Nobles who had headed the debate.
Ever since his return back to the capital, he'd become restless. Not out of dissatisfaction with his job or how he had been tasked to perform his duties. No, rather, he couldn't stop thinking about the unique individuals he'd met out in Carne nearly three weeks ago.
The power they'd commanded was unrivaled by even the most powerful magic casters of the world. Those like Fluder Paradyne, the Imperial Court Wizard of the Baharuth Empire, were but child's play before those absolute monsters.
It was a shame he'd never learned their actual names, and that the only real info he could give to his king when he reported back was their collective title, "The Sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown."
The Chief Warrior had done his own research, to see if the name fit any of the ancient lore or stories found within the royal library, but there was nothing.
Japan, the name of the country that the brawling knight had given him, was nonexistent. The title, Ainz Ooal Gown, also drew blanks from just about every source that was consulted.
It was almost like they didn't exist, or if they did, it was the most closely guarded secret on his side of the known world. It disturbed him to know that something so prominent could escape his grasp, but alas, it was outside of his comprehension.
No scholar could answer his inquiries, nor the Royal books, so instead he'd stewed on his indirect failure to procure potential allies who could have aided the Re-Eztize Kingdom, only growing more and more discontent.
Now, he watched the fruit of that play out before him in the form of the Royal Convening. All of the Great Six Nobles were present, and just about all of them were disheveled in one form or another.
The two marquises who were arguing were the most well kept of the Six. Their nobleman's attire was as clean and professionally crafted as always. Their dapper fabrics were in fine order for almost every Royal Convening.
Such extravagance and luster from the metallic looking thread could only be afforded by those with the utmost wealth and influence. The marquises could never be mistaken as anything less than the highest position of noble.
What ruined the image, however, were the slight wrinkles and the folds. The minor threads that spun loose from their place in the outfit gave a slightly frayed look to those who knew what to look for.
Gazef knew from experience that the state of their wear would be completely unacceptable under normal circumstances, for the royalty of Re-Estize would never accept anything less.
Now was not those times, especially when taking into effect the ramifications of the destruction of E-Rantel itself.
Another one of the Marquises, Pespea Aladone Vavies, spoke up before the king could respond to Marquis Elias.
"Marquis Blumrush, I must agree with Marquis Elias in that the citizens of E-Rantel are suffering enough as is. We have to send aid and get the good people out of there, especially if we wish to help quell the riots that are propping up across the kingdom."
Marquis Boullope, a burly, powerfully built man, spoke up as well. "Indeed. With the citizens in the state that they're in, we cannot afford to allow ourselves to sit idle, or the king for that matter. I move that we assign a contingent of soldiers to at least gather up the survivors and move them to a secure location far from the ruins."
"And yet, we still do not know what is going on in the city. For all we know, the undead which our reports claim to be active could have slaughtered our people already. To send more of our people to die just for the small chance they may be alive is foolish indeed."
Boullope's nostrils flared like a bull's. "Oh? And tell me, do you believe that it is any better now that we sit here and continue to debate this? Never mind that they may well be dead, but the citizenry sees us as complacent, especially with the arrival of that damnable paladin showing us up."
That remark got some grumbles out of the Great Six, which also drew attention to how much they perspired in their stuffy clothing.
While their clothes were mostly in top shape, the same couldn't be said of the noblemen who wore them.
Individuals like the young Marquis Pespea put on as brave a face they could, but Gazef saw how his lower lip just barely trembled in fright from the report given earlier. His forehead was dotted with sweat, a combination of apprehension and the heat of the hall.
Others like Marquis Blumrush were beet red, with dark bags under their eyes from the many nights of restless sleep they had endured. Their hands, even clasped, couldn't stop shaking.
Their voices were constantly off-key of their typical professionalism. They were more prone to anger and downright maliciousness in their conversations. Their posture sagged and their hair quickly fell out of their tidy and trim hairstyles.
In every sense of the word, Gazef could best describe the nobles as downright terrified.
But all of this he could handle. All of this he could endure and reassure himself was normal for the Great Six Nobles. Afterall, who wouldn't be quaking in their boots after what happened in E-Rantel?
No, what did concern the chief warrior was how King Ramposa III was reacting to the news.
His king had always been a determined and fair man to his subjects. For decades the king made it his mission to judge others off of merit, rather than their upbringing. It was how Gazef had been elevated to the position he was in now.
Much of King Ramposa's time was spent trying to keep the peace, standing valiantly against the Baharuth Empire and their advances.
Political infighting had also been a mission of Gazef's king, though with what he was witnessing now, he couldn't help but to feel more could be done.
There was not a single day in recent memory where the martial arts user could remember the older man being so…dissatisfied.
King Ramposa's elderly features were contorted in a grimace, like he was watching something particularly disgusting right in front of him. His gnarled hands clenched at the arm rests of his throne while his own sitting stance was rigid.
His eyes, typically alight with their usual gentleness, were dark and hidden by the shadow of his crown, which hung heavy atop his brow. For the first time in his service, Gazef couldn't tell what his king was thinking.
Squabbling amongst the Great Six reached an all-time high, becoming a mess of noise where all six attempted to dominate. The chief warrior couldn't even tell who was talking anymore.
Just when it seemed it would never end, a booming slam echoed throughout the royal chamber. It was so sudden and sharp to the senses that all voices ceased for the moment.
The source of that noise was King Ramposa himself, who, with his dwindling strength, slapped the arm rest to be able to gather up the attention of his nobles.
Gazef was the closest to his king, so he faced the brunt of it before it even reached the others. When he looked to see what his king wished to say, he was astonished to see the raw fury that was present on his normally docile appearance.
"I have heard your pleas, and your reasoning for why we should or should not have to go in and deal with the situation that has risen up out of E-Rantel. Out of everything that I thought could unite us, I truly believed that this crisis could be it," King Ramposa said.
All of the Great Six's cheeks blazed with heated shame and indignation, but none dared to speak up, especially not when Gazef shifted his weight to more fully face the nobles from his side of the throne.
The King continued. "For years, we have dealt with the threat of the Baharuth Empire and their annual war on the Katze Plains. We have gathered up every able-bodied man and boy to stand for us and die just so we can buy ourselves another year of life and freedom from our enemies' clutches."
Still not a word was said from any of the Great Six Nobles. All of them stared straight ahead, unable to meet the king's eyes and instead fidgeting in their spots.
King Ramposa rose from his throne, Gazef moving to help him up but being stopped by his king's hand. He quietly returned back to his original spot.
Said ruler descended the steps. "There is no time for 'gathering our strength'. There is no reason to 'wait out the sickness'. We must act now if we are to be ready, and that means getting our survivors out of there as quickly as possible."
That finally got a response out of Marquis Blumrush, who was a full-on motley red. Before he said anything however he quickly pulled a handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead.
"Your highness, I beg you to reconsider! We'll be sending even more of our men out to die if we attempt a rescue! Men we can use to consolidate our power for the upcoming war in a few months. I cannot possibly fathom our citizens in the capital-"
"What you cannot fathom," the king said in a deathly quiet tone, "is that the men, women, and children out there are still our blood. And you're absolutely right, Marquis Blumrush, in that we cannot just allow our men to go in by themselves."
Then the king looked out over the Great Six Nobles, a youthful fire ignited in him that had likely not been lit since his very youngest days.
"You've read the recent report of the 'paladin' that Marquis Boullopes so eloquently put it. They are an ally, a powerful one at that, being able to clear up even the higher tier undead. We cannot be mistaken."
"Your highness, if I may," interjected the elderly Margrave Urovana. He even gave a half bow to King Ramposa while he spoke.
Gazef watched as his ruler slowly nodded. "You may speak. Please, be quick about it."
"Thank you. I believe I speak for everyone when I say that we wish nothing but the best for our kingdom, even if some of our members tend to take their patriotism in the opposite direction of what is expected."
The Marquis alluded to merely glowered with smoldering anger, but refused to speak out of turn lest he be thrown out of the Royal Convening all together.
"Which is why I say that in terms of sending out an entire contingent of soldiers to rescue our survivors, why not send a smaller team to make contact with this 'paladin'? Surely we would be able to satisfy all interests here and be able to subdue the riots that have broken out?" Offered the much more experienced noble.
There were noises of acknowledgement from the other nobles, even Marquis Blumrush, who's colorful expression had somewhat died down.
Gazef nodded in agreement, giving the older man a glance of appreciation for his simple but effective method in placating the dissenting parties.
For as long as he could remember, it seemed Margrave Uronava possessed an ability to instantly calm down and get the nobility to work together for the good of all. Like with what just happened, it reminded Gazef how thankful he was to have the man backing the Royal Faction.
"It is good that we are of the same mind then, Margrave," replied King Ramposa. "With that being said, I shall have Captain Gazef take a group of his finest to make contact with said paladin and get our good men and women home."
There were some side conversations amongst the Six Great, but ultimately they had nothing more to say on the matter. The monarch reascended the steps and sat back down.
King Ramposa pointed to the door at the end of the courtroom. "Go, you are dismissed. I expect all of you to do your part to ensure that our people are secure and that you put their minds at ease. We cannot afford dissent in these trying times."
All the Great Six bowed deeply, before pivoting on their heels and briskly walking to the massive doors. They opened with a creak, revealing a mass of their servants and entourages just waiting outside.
Once the last of them passed through, the guards on the other side closed the doors, leaving only Gazef and King Ramposa in the mighty throne room.
The Re-Estize monarch slouched in his seat. "Politics. To think that so many could find reasons to disagree with one another, even when danger is lurking in the grass, ready to snap at their heels as they pass."
"They do only what they feel is best," Gazef responded smoothly, "even still, I cannot help but to agree that their behavior and motives could be better."
"So it would seem."
King Ramposa then reached down to the left side of his throne, hidden from the chief warrior's sight. He pulled out a scroll, the parchment crinkled in his clawed fingers.
"I assume that you have read the report?" The monarch asked.
"Of course, your highness. The moment it came in today I was among the first to read it. The contents are quite intriguing," Gazef said.
The report in question was but one of many, delivered over the last week and a half from a very determined but sickly looking horseman who hailed from the fallen E-Rantel.
No name was given, but the horseman appeared to be an older gentleman with a rustic, brown beard and a wild look to his eyes. His equipment denoted him as a former member of the E-Rantel garrison.
That same man was the one who delivered the first report of when the city first fell, followed only a day later by a group of adventurers who called themselves the "Swords of Darkness".
Their name eluded Gazef, but they brought much the same news as to what was going on in the city itself. Word spread like wildfire after that, prompting citizens both in the city and farther out to storm the capital and demand that action be done.
Most of the people who protested in the streets were the families of those who were in E-Rantel during its fall. The wailing of their anguished screams and shouts of hatred rivaled even the hordes of the undead, while they stood close to the palace entrance and demanded action.
Last he recalled, a contingent of guardsmen were called out to defend the palace gates, and ensure no one overran it to try and get at the supposedly complacent nobles within.
Now Gazef could only wait for the reports to come in, which became more frequent due to the horseman who made his initial journey keeping in contact with the mage, a young boy named Ninya, via [Message].
Due to the great distance and how unreliable the spell had been in the past, some of the nobility had been hesitant to believe the information that was filtering through. Afterall, such abuse of the spell had led to the fall of Gartenbarg only three-hundred years prior.
Then the reports of the paladin came in.
Gazef could hardly believe it the first time he'd read the official writing, but everything about the paladin seemed to point to a very specific group of individuals.
From what was described, the being was said to be 'giant among men', wearing shining, brilliant plate armor with a red cape and expertly crafted sword and shield.
The paladin was not only able to hold their own against undead like Death Knights, but could move with such astonishing strength and speed that it seemed like all their enemies were defeated in only a single swing of their weapon.
What was also said was that the paladin's gear had no equal, matching no known design from any of the human nations. It was mentioned that said warrior had a sort of "healing light" that kept at bay the persevering sickness of the undead's negative energy.
The description didn't quite fit the image of the knight who fought alongside him at Carne Village, for he battled with nothing but a kite shield and his own fists. He also never felt any sort of divine light or energy from his battle comrade. Even still…
There is no doubt in my mind that the paladin could possess some connection to the Sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown. I'll need to leave as quickly as possible.
King Ramposa pointed to one of the windows that lit up the royal courtroom. "Loyal Gazef, my chief warrior. Would you take a moment of your time to look out the window and tell me what it is that you see?"
Gazef didn't even question it, doing as his king commanded and striding straight to the window and looking out over the royal grounds.
It was idyllic, watching as the sun's rays poured out over the palace and lit up everything in a warm, peaceful atmosphere.
Guards made their patrols around on the palace walls, walking idly by and every so often glancing over the side. Down below on the inside, there were gardens teeming with butterflies and patches of grass and shrubbery.
Some of the nobility were out and about with their own families of entourages, allowing toddlers and young children to play and run without a care in the world.
A portrait perfect idea of the ideal life. Safety in an easily accessible area of sunlight, where one could recline back and take a nap if they so wish.
Gazef relayed this to his king, turning back around to gauge the monarch's reaction to what he said.
King Ramposa pursed his lips. "Indeed, my loyal captain, but do you wish to know the great flaw of this little slice of paradise that the royal grounds afford?"
Confusion wormed its way into his thoughts and heart, making him wonder if he mentioned something upsetting. Nonetheless he inclined his head.
For a brief moment, the king did not answer, instead taking the time to search the chief warrior's features as if seeing him for the first time.
"It hides the agony," King Ramposa finally said. "All the hate, the rot, and the corruption of my kingdom. I have spent most of my life fighting to keep my people together, staring out at those very walls and believing them to be the peak of paradise."
Then the monarch rested his aged head on one of his hands and sighed. "To think that all the roses ever did was to disguise the stench of decay that ate away at the foundations of my kingdom."
Gazef returned back to his assigned place by the king's throne. A well of pity formed within the recesses of his heart, and he felt his mouth downturn into a morose frown.
"My king, if I may?" The chief warrior asked, giving a half bow to his ruler.
"Speak your peace, chief warrior. You know you have my ear," the elderly monarch said with a wave of his hand.
Before he said anything, Gazef paused to ensure that he possessed the right words that he wanted to use, and thus spoke when he felt he was ready.
"No matter what may come to pass, know that I will always fight to my last breath to defend the honor of my country and home," He declared, "after everything I have been given, the opportunities I was afforded, and how hard I've strived to ensure that your vision has come to be, I will not let it be all for naught."
"This I know, chief warrior. Your words gladden my heart, but why bring up your oaths again now?" King Ramposa asked.
"Because when I go out in search of the paladin, I do not intend to return until every last member of E-Rantel is safely on their way here. I will fight down to my last strand of strength if it means securing our future so that one day, the beauty and peace of this palace will reach as far as the very borders of our kingdom."
No words came from his ruler's mouth, so Gazef took that as a sign to continue.
"Not only do I believe that we can help reassure our own people that we are still strong and righteous in our own motives, but that we can also secure allies within the ruins."
That last piece got the king to respond to him. "Oh? You believe that there is more to the ruins of the city than meets the eye? Tell me what it is you believe you'll find."
"The description of the paladin, their power and abilities, leads me to believe them to be connected to the Sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown."
King Ramposa's eyes narrowed in thoughtful introspection. "The ones who saved you and your men in Carne Village. How can you be so certain?"
At that, Gazef only shook his head. "I'm not, but the power and presence displayed can only point towards them, if slightly. Even if I do not find them, my mission will still bear fruit in the form of bringing our people home."
"Yes. I suppose so. But if you can find this paladin and ascertain their identity, if you can somehow make contact with his comrades if he has them…"
"Then we'll be all the more better for it. With a smaller team, it's more likely we'll be able to sneak in and out of the city collecting as many of the survivors as we can. I imagine that by this point, stronger and stronger undead will be roaming the city streets."
The king tapped the tips of his index fingers together in contemplation. "It is good that the successful finding of this paladin is not your mission priority, less I say that we are banking many risks upon this one hope."
His fingers stopped tapping. "I'm counting on you Gazef. While I don't enjoy having to rely on the Swords of Darkness for much of our reports, their information is the best source we have that is quick as well. Seek them out and gather as much as you can before you leave."
"You have my word. I'm sure I'll also be able to find support from the surviving Adventurer's guild as well. Thankfully Pluton Ainzach was still alive last I heard," Gazef said, raising his hand and resting it above his heart with another half-bow.
Like previously, King Ramposa raised a finger to point at the door. "Go, and make your country proud. I expect that you'll be leaving within the next day to ensure the mission is carried out."
"Of course," he said simply, bowing a final time and walking towards the doors. They opened automatically with aid from the guards outside, who let him pass.
When he got outside into the main hall, the servants and entourage were absent, as expected, which gave Gazef plenty of time to walk and ponder by himself.
I'll need to draw upon some of my best men for this mission. Perhaps the contingent that was with me when we first arrived in Carne Village. No, it would have to be somewhat smaller than even then.
By his estimates, he calculated he'd want around twenty five men this time around, which he would split up into two separate parties upon their arrival to E-Rantel.
The first party he would lead into the city itself, searching and rescuing the survivors that were sure to be scavenging amongst the ruins for supplies. The second group would wait just outside the wall, to serve as extraction for those that were brought outside of the city.
The Adventurer's Guild, from what the Swords of Darkness had said, were still somewhat intact, though their numbers diminished due to grievous injuries, sickness, or some other factor not otherwise specified.
Gazef and his search party would make contact with the remnants, coordinating with them to escort stragglers and the displaced, while also providing support against the more powerful undead that stalked the haunted grounds.
He was sure there would be more supplies in the city, but he figured he would need to pack a few wagons to settle the citizens they rescued in the event they were malnourished.
Taking into account all of this, Gazef figured that the trip just to reach the city would take a few days, perhaps four at most, to arrive if they all went with minimal breaks in between. The trip home with so many of those citizens, however, was a different beast to tackle all together.
They'll be scared and out of hope. Or perhaps not entirely out of hope, if the paladin really has been doing their part to clear the city and protect the people.
A huff escaped him as he strode along his path, recounting where exactly the Swords of Darkness had been allowed to stay within the Royal Palace.
Due to their unique status as "Ambassadors" of the Adventurer's Guild, as well as their ability to quickly communicate with the people of E-Rantel, it had quickly been decided they would be stationed inside the keep to give reports quickly and efficiently.
Gazef wasted no time in knocking on the door of the members known as the Swords of Darkness, crossing his arms behind his back as he patiently waited for a reply.
After a few moments, he could hear the soft pitter patter of feet against carpeted stone, and then the click of a lock.
The door cracked slightly ajar, allowing a tussled, brown haired young man to poke his head out. From the dark bags under his eyes and their redness, he looked like he hadn't gotten much sleep.
"Hello? What can I do for you?" Ninya inquired of Gazef in a soft, almost feminine voice.
Something seems off with this young man, the chief warrior thought to himself. He pushed it aside to focus on his main goal.
"Sir Ninya, I've come before you to let you know that I will be embarking on a mission to go and rescue as many of the survivors of E-Rantel as I can. I plan to leave within the next day or so," he informed the younger man in a professional tone.
Ninya's eyes widened, opening the door slightly to reveal more of himself. Beyond his torso, which was covered in a loose tunic, not much else could be seen.
"Really? Who are you planning on taking with you? Do you need assistance? How can my friends and I help? Is there some way we could-"
Gazef held up a hand with a chuckle. "Calm yourself, young man. I haven't picked my team yet, and I need you and your team to remain here in the capital to continue giving regular updates. I do, however, need your assistance in gathering more intel, as well as a personal favor for me."
Ninya nodded with determination. "Yeah! Whatever you need, I'll gladly provide."
"That's good. I need as much info about the city in its current state as possible. Everything you can think of last time you were there and what the Adventurer's Guild told you."
"That should be easy enough with my [Message] spell. What about that personal favor?"
The martial arts user leaned in close so he could more properly look the mage in the eye. "I want you to try and get ahold of Ainzach and let him know we're coming, as well as whether or not he's seen the paladin from the report. I wish to speak with him as soon as possible."
Before he could request anything else, the Swords of Darkness mage opened his door fully for the chief warrior and gestured inside.
"Come in then. I'm gonna make sure you get everything you need, so we can get everybody out of there."
Gazef didn't need to say anything else, accepting the invite and strolling on in. He took note of his surroundings, finding them to be worthy of a guest of the royal palace. The plush, velvet furniture, as well as numerous beds to hold all the members of the Swords of Darkness, made sure they were as comfortable as possible.
The crystal chandelier above provided a soft ambience that one could doze off in, or in which to quietly enjoy some melodious music from a court musician. However, no one else was present in the room save for Gazef and the young mage.
It doesn't matter. What matters is that I get everything that I need and then head out. Sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown, wherever you are, I hope to find you, so that you might be able to save my country and people.
Once he was fully inside, Ninya gently pulled the door shut.