Anomalous Solutions to Magical Problems
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Overlord or Tales from the SCP Foundation, and I earn no profit in writing this. It's just for fun.
Chapter 2
The great tomb of Nazarick was many things. It was large, massively so, with each floor large enough for a small town. It was well-defended. Each floor guardian was capable of taking on a small army single handed and each had minions, some of which were nearly as strong as they were. The domestic staff, led by Sebas, were only slightly weaker. It was nearly impossible to gain entry to, unless the master of Nazarick invited them in or, as on one occasion, allowed someone to break in.
Nearly impossible, however, did not mean impossible. A flicker of alien magics, deep within the tomb and unlike anything the inhabitants were familiar with, went unnoticed. An hour later, another flicker occurred, then another as there had been no reaction from the tomb's defenders. The seeds of Nazarick's destruction were carefully sewn.
OOOOOOOOOO
Sergeant Bobby Cole had been with MTF Delta-5, the Front Runners, for four years and he knew a fair amount about blending in and going unnoticed in places where he wasn't supposed to be. He was not the most experienced person in the unit, but he was the best available at the time that the mission had come up. Looking around at his mixed and temporary team, he wondered how on Earth they were going to make this work.
There were two members of MTF Lamda-5, the White Rabbits, with them because the world they had arrived on only a few hours ago had magic out in public view. There were elves, goblins, undead, friggin' DRAGONS, and 343 knew what else. This was their kind of mission, and the White Rabbits were there to help the rest of the team cope when things got freaky. As far as Cole was concerned, things were already freaky.
The makeshift team he had been given to lead was rounded out by three GOC operatives that had skillsets similar to his own and were armed to the teeth. To be fair, they were all well-armed, but the three GOC agents seemed to have gone overboard. A casual examination of the three showed that each had a primary weapon, a side-arm, a boot knife, additional blades in their belt buckles, and several suspicious telltales around their persons that hinted that each carried at least two additional hidden weapons. They had identified themselves only as Winken, Blinken, and Nod. Cole told himself that the sense of impending doom was just ordinary nerves. If he kept telling himself that, sooner or later, he might start believing it.
Six people, most of whom hadn't worked together before, were relying semi-anomalous tech created by the Foundation to track anomalies. Cole knew that the gadget somehow measured hume levels, and pointed the way toward higher concentrations, but to him, that might as well have been magic. He had made the mistake of saying as much to the mage/technician/WTF teaching them how to use the devices and earned the entire group an hour-long lecture on the difference between magic, technology, reality manipulation, and a few other things that didn't quite fit any of the above categories. When the man was done, Cole had tried to ask one of the many questions ricocheting around his brain, only to have Nod slap a hand over his mouth and assure the technician that they understood.
Deployment had gone smoothly, for a given value of smooth. Cole decided he hated traveling by Way and would avoid it if he could after they got home. They had found themselves in a forest not too far from a small farming village. Recon had quickly shown them that this world was very different. The multiple species, the goblins guarding the village gates, and the monsters they had encountered in the woods painted an interesting and rather chaotic picture. They had rescued a group of farmers headed for town from a monster attack and gotten a primer of sorts on the local area from the grateful peasants.
What they had to say was a bit alarming, but Winken pointed out that the state of affairs in the recently conquered country wasn't their concern, and knowing who and/or what not to attack was to their benefit. Cole and the others agreed reluctantly.
The cover story they had arranged for any locals they encountered worked well enough on the farmers. They were from a distant land and were the victims of a magical transport gone wrong thanks to an enemy attack. The story was accepted at the town's gates as well, and they were allowed in and given a chance to trade with the locals for supplies and clothing that didn't stand out quite so much.
They were met briefly and thanked by the town's mayor, who told them that their nation's capital boasted the most powerful magic users in the known world. Perhaps, the young woman suggested, one of them could help the group return home.
That seemed promising. Boyd, one of the White Rabbits, consulted their tracker and determined that at least one of the SCPs was very likely in the capital. Soon, the six of them were dressed in local garb, or something close to it, and making their way toward the nation's capital and whatever was giving off the readings. It wasn't the strongest of readings, but it was the closest, and they knew that the signal would clear up and become more detailed as they got closer. Their trek was uneventful and only took four days via wagon which they agreed to guard a small convoy in exchange for a ride. The job also helped serve as cover to get them into the city without too many awkward questions.
The undead guarding the gates were beyond creepy, but the team all held their peace. The way this so-called sorcerer king ran his country was not their concern. They weren't there to make enemies.
OOOOOOOOOO
Ainz Ooal Gown, the sorcerer king, rode down the streets of E-Rantel, seeing and letting himself be seen, with two death knights as bodyguards, not that he needed them, and Shalltear Bloodfallen. He was taking the opportunity to lecture her on the importance of maintaining appearances and of being benevolent when the situation allowed for it. Trying to educate his floor guardians and other servants was, he sometimes suspected, a waste of time. They would never feel compassion or empathy. That those traits were lacking in him more and more was something he seemed oblivious to, for the most part.
Their course through the city seemed random, but it had actually been carefully plotted. Ainz had certain goals in mind, although they varied from trip to trip. One constant goal was to be seen taking an interest in the happiness and welfare of the people of his kingdom. Semi-regular visits were made to certain parts of the city in order to advance various agendas, some benign and some focused on preventing trouble inside his own borders. At least, that's what he allowed his subordinates to believe. He had told them that he had multiple reasons for doing anything he did, and they should consider it a test of their intelligence to discover them. In truth, he was simply going with the flow more often than not and leaving the details to them.
Reports reached him of discontent in various quarters, but just being seen passing the homes or businesses of various people kept them paranoid and kept any plans they might be making from advancing too far. Other reasons came and went depending on how far along his various schemes were at any given time. It was presented as an easy way to avoid problems. His servants accepted this easily, calling it brilliant
Given the amount of power he had, things normally went his way, and the few times he had been surprised or suffered setbacks, he played it off as part of his master plan, or chuckled over it and adapted as if it were an unlikely but not completely unexpected variance from his expectations. This rarely happened, though. Most of the unpleasant surprises he had to contend with were handed to him by his underlings when he had to curtail unacceptable notions ranging from the needlessly harsh to the genocidal. Sometimes, he thought managing a group of mean-spirited school children given chainsaws would be easier.
Which wasn't to say, he couldn't be surprised by ordinary people. Case in point, the heavyset commoner with a sword that had just charged out of a side street to challenge him to single combat. The man wore no armor, was breathing heavily from his brief run, and looked about as threatening as a stray dog. A small one.
Shalltear was furious at man's affrontery. She asked permission to kill the insect for her lord.
"Wait, Shalltear. Something odd is going on here." The sword the man held could barely be called a weapon. It was evidently intended to be a katana, which was strange enough, as he hadn't seen one since arriving in this world, but the blade was badly balanced and quite dull. It was clearly no threat to him. The blade and its current wielder wouldn't have been a threat to the weakest of his subordinates.
He dismounted and approached the man.
OOOOOOOOOO
"Damn it," one of the White Rabbits, corporal Schaefer, swore quietly. "That stupid sword is why we came all this way?" The tracker's readings had resolved into multiple blips as they approached. The sword just happened to be the closest.
"He's gonna get himself killed," Blinken frowned.
"We can't help that," Cole said unhappily. "Wait our chance to reacquire the sword." Blinken swore under his breath but held his position. The thing, an elder lich, if he had to guess, approached the man. Cole felt bad for the latest victim of the 'stupid sword,' but this wouldn't be the first time he had had to stand by while someone died. No one else, he noted, was eager to confront the walking nightmare on behalf of the hapless victim of SCP-572.
"May I?" the gigantic skeleton plucked the blade from the man's hands and examined it curiously. Then, to everyone's surprise, he laughed. "That is a most entertaining enchantment."
"I doubt he thinks so," Winken muttered, watching the blade's former wielder come out of his daze before falling to his knees, gibbering in terror as he offered abject apologies and begged for his life.
The sorcerer king spared the man a glance. "Rise. I'm not angry with you. Tell me where you acquired this."
"I found it in with a load of firewood behind the shop where I work. We have a delivery once a week. I thought I might sell it, but… When I touched it…" he trailed off helplessly. "I am so sorry, my king."
"Go in peace, but be more careful of picking up strange magical items in the future."
"Wise words, my king. I will do so." The man beat a hasty retreat while he could. The odd pale woman riding with the skeleton glared after him.
"My lord?"
"It wasn't his fault, Shalltear. An untrained mind would have little hope of acting rationally while holding this blade." A circular opening in the air appeared and he pushed the sword through. "I think I'll just hang onto it, so it doesn't cause any more trouble."
"What does that enchantment do, my lord?" Shalltear asked as they resumed their tour. The soldiers watched them leave without comment, merely trying to blend into the crowd. Finally, everyone around them seemed to let out a sigh of relief, and the crowd started to disperse.
"Pretty sure we're not getting that back," Schaefer noted.
"Good riddance," Cole snorted. "Where's the next reading?" Winken consulted the tracker.
OOOOOOOOOO
Aureole Omega looked up from her work and frowned at the disturbance she was hearing. It was likely Uka-no-Mitamas and Ootoshis having another 'disagreement.' While it didn't happen all that often, when it did, the collateral damage could be immense. I'd better tend to this.
Leaving her work room, she followed the noise down the corridor toward the Cherry Blossom Sanctuary itself, suddenly realizing that that most delicate of areas was the source of the commotion. If those two idiots damage the teleportation gate system, Lord Ainz will have all our heads!
She pushed open the doors to find Ootoshis facing off against one of the strangest things she had ever seen. She couldn't take in its appearance properly, given how fast it was moving, but it had insect-like legs, and several barbed tentacles that were in constant motion. It was also babbling nonsense that might have passed as poetry for some reason.
"Reddest flower petals fall from our grieving eyes to splash on the ground as the bright sun smiles uncaring on all mortal triumphs and sorrows."
Of Uka-no-Mitamas, there was no sign.
"Ootoshis? What is going on?" she demanded as she tried to track the bizarre creature. "Where is Uka-no-Mitamas?"
"Dead," her servant panted. "That thing tore him apart." He turned quickly, trying to keep it in view. "Don't lose track of it. It's as fast as you are and almost as vicious."
Before she could process that statement, 'that thing' put on an astonishing burst of speed and sent her sprawling, bleeding from multiple wounds. Even as they began to heal, she heard an aborted scream and the sound of tearing flesh. Ootoshis' head rolled to a stop near her. Those had been two of her strongest subordinates. The level of power and ferocity on display was chilling, ever for her. It was time, she decided, to put an end to whatever that thing was.
"The symphony of suffering plants seeds of doubt in the fertile soil of hurting hearts," the creature intoned solemnly, the pace and tone of its words at odds with its incredible speed and vicious nature.
She'd learned enough watching it to be able to track and predict its movements, somewhat. Waiting till the last second, she rolled to avoid a strike from the thing's tentacles and kicked out, connecting solidly. The immense strength and skill that made her the leader of the Pleiades served her well, and the thing was sent flying into a wall as if shot from a cannon. The resulting meaty splat was quite satisfying. She watched carefully as its legs twitched spastically a few times, before going limp. The bad poetry it had spewed constantly was finally silenced.
Standing with an effort, she approached carefully to examine it, carefully watching for any sign of movement in case it was faking. It looked like an oversized bovine heart with four insect-like legs, barbed tentacles, and some sort of stinger. She could honestly say that she'd never seen anything like it. Its anatomy didn't concern her, however. What mattered was that it was dead. She would leave figuring out what it was and where it came from for later. After seeing no signs of life for over a minute, she backed away, still wary.
Turning to check on her servants, with lord Ainz' permission they could be restored, she didn't notice its sudden movement until the stinger pierced her side, injecting her with something that disrupted her ability to heal. The tentacle that wrapped around her neck ensured that she wouldn't be asking lord Ainz for anything. The creature, lacking any fresh victims, began to lash out at its surroundings, destroying the delicate magical apparatus there that controlled the teleportation gates and so much more. It was a well-designed and robust system capable of repairing itself. Up to a point. SCP-058 blew past that point more quickly than any of the tomb's inhabitants would have believed possible.
The conflict and subsequent destruction should have drawn the attention of others, but the Eighth Floor Hierarchy, Nazarick's most powerful defenders, had problems of their own. None of them would be responding.
OOOOOOOOOO
The sorcerer king continued his tour, the incident with the sword, for the moment, pushed to the back of his mind. He was nearing the end of his planned route for the day, passing through the market, when something caught his eye. He pulled his mount to a stop and stared, much to the discomfort of the vegetable cart's proprietor.
"Excuse me," Ainz asked politely, "but where did you get those?" He indicated a basket full of juicy looking red fruit. The man looked at the basket and shook his head.
"Forgive me, my king, but I do not know. They were on the cart that delivered the produce this morning. The cartman didn't pay much attention when they were loaded, so he was unable to tell me." He shrugged. "They taste pretty good."
"I haven't seen these in a long time," Ainz mused, wondering how something from his old life could have been here all along without him noticing.
"Are they full of blood, my lord?" Shalltear asked lightly, thinking to amuse her master. "I could develop a taste for them." A second later, to the astonishment of everyone that remained conscious, Shalltear Bloodfallen was propelled off of her mount and into the side of the nearest building, nearly cracking the stone. The market's other customers scattered in panic.
The vegetable seller backed away from his cart in alarm. "What!? How?" He quickly turned to the sorcerer king. "I swear, I did nothing! I have no idea how that happened!"
Ainz dismounted, but found a man already checking on the downed floor guardian. "I'm not finding a pulse," the man called.
"That's perfectly normal for her."
Cole looked up and bit off a curse. He'd reacted without thinking when he heard the commotion from around the corner, without taking in the whole situation. The two White Rabbits; Schaefer and Boyd, came over to join him, the GOC operatives stayed at a distance, watching.
"It is?" Cole asked, uncertain how to proceed.
"She's a vampire."
"Oh. That makes sense." Cole stood up. "She should be fine, then." He had had experience with vampires, though he tried hard to forget those incidents. It had not been his intention to reveal the team, but seeing the young woman on the ground badly bloodied had him in motion before he could think about it. Might as well make the best of it. He made a split-second decision. This seemed to be the 'sorcerer king' he had heard of, and while dealing with such a being was insanely dangerous, it could expedite their mission if handled carefully.
"May I ask what happened? Something that could hit her that hard…" He knelt again as something occurred to him.
"Tomato paste. Damn it."
"You're kidding," Boyd said without much hope that Cole actually was. He vividly remembered a prank at a site he was assigned to that left tomatoes diced for salads whizzing around the cafeteria like bullets.
"You seem to know something about this," The king said, eyeing them.
"The tomatoes," Cole said. "They're a special type, at least I think so. We should confirm their nature." He glanced at Schaefer and Boyd.
Much to Ainz' growing confusion and mild amusement, the two did a quick game of rock-paper-scissors. Schaefer stepped back and Boyd, having lost, faced the basket, watching its contents carefully.
"Why are walls built around cemeteries?" Boyd began.
"Why?" Schaefer asked.
"Because people are dying to get in." Boyd quickly crouched, barely avoiding a red missile from the basket. "Ha!" He stood up in time for the missile to reverse course, fortunately shedding most of its velocity in the process, and strike him in the back of the head, knocking him down. "OW!"
"I gotta agree with the tomato on that one," Cole admitted, wincing at the impact. Maybe he could put Boyd in for a commendation when they got back.
"Indeed," Ainz nodded, making every effort to hide his growing confusion. The magic he could now associate with the strange fruit was nearly impossible to detect until they were in motion. He had never seen anything quite like it. Intriguing. This bears study. Turning to the baffled and terrified vendor, Ainz gave the man a few coins. "I'll take the entire basket."
"O-of course, my king. Thank you." The merchant accepted the coins and bowed deeply, glad to be rid of the clearly magical produce. He wasn't sure what he had just seen, but he knew enough of magic to know he wanted those fruits far from him.
Ainz revived Shalltear with a spell after placing the bad joke tomatoes, as the strangers called them, in storage. The vampire was livid, demanding to know who had attacked her. She calmed down at a word from her lord, however, and quickly agreed that they should hear the strangers out.
The strangers, six in all, returned with them to the palace, where they told a most interesting story.