fathiamarouf4: Have no fear on this subject, The Platinium Dragon Lord will have an active role in the Arc that begins with this episode... plus two other mighty dragons will appear in this same Arc... There should be enough battles against dragons to satisfy you.

leonsion: My initial idea was to bring Gilgamesh in and send him to fight the Overlord's main cast. But, bringing up a character of one franchise, and then recounting the one-sided onslaught of the other franchise's characters is the scenario on which is based 99% of the Crossovers. In addition to not being a very original telling, it's... some kind of franchise-bashing.

I wanted to tell the story from the point of view of a narrator who is a "weak" character who constantly wonders if she is right or wrong rather than the nth iteration of the "bad guys' killing machine" story. Bad guys' killing machine? You know the usual infuriating self-centered 'hero', the one who always has the answer to all questions, never has any doubt, never needs any help, never wonders about anything, and has all the powers under heaven... in short the classic shounen's MC.

There's another reason to delay Gilgamesh's arrival. The reader wants to read Ainz's triumphs and see the Floor Guardians at work. They don't want some pushovers' ersatz. In this Fanfiction, Nazarick represents a real danger. They are strong monsters, demons, and undead. The inhabitants of the New World are utterly powerless against them.

I would like to conclude by reassuring those who fear the consequences of the arrival of my version of Gilgamesh. The sudden appearance of a stranger with powers that ridicule those of Ainz would be a Balance's Breaker. Of course, I caught it.

Get ready to be surprised by what I am preparing for you... that isn't what you expect at all.

Darth Kyuubi kurama: it's very kind of you but this episode is practically a copy/ pasted from the last episode of Overlord's Season IV... so I do not deserve any praise.

Warning to readers: So far this fan fiction has globally followed the course of events as reported in the Overlord's anime (Season IV). Nevertheless, starting from this chapter, the events will start to diverge from those told in the LN (and which will undoubtedly be told in the next Overlord's season). This is a choice of the author... in preparation for even more radical bouleversement in the next Arc.

The End of the Beginning

This was a very comfortable and bright bedroom, lit by the sun entering through the open window. The wind was playing with the curtains. It was a beautiful day, warm and peaceful. While listening, one could even hear bees foraging from the flowers planted in the planter on the windowsill.

In the bed, a form moved and opened her eyelid before passing a hand over her forehead and eyes.

Turning her head, Miriel looked towards the gauze curtains, which undulated slowly.

She suddenly remembered a Haiku she had learned at school: "We cannot prevent the light and heat of summer from entering through the window if we open it to them."

The Summoner felt weak, but... the bed was soft. Still numb, she didn't feel the need to move. The half-elf remained looking at a piece of blue sky between two buildings. Her mind drifted a few moments before her eyebrows frowned.

Where has she been?

—it wasn't her room at the inn.

How did she get there? Standing up, the half-elf looked around. A vanity unit surmounted by a large mirror and a wardrobe for clothes suggested that it was in a lady's room... the furniture was of good quality. She had therefore slept in the room of a noble... Nevertheless, the Summoner could not remember her arrival here... For starters, where was this 'here'?

As she hesitated to get up the door opened to let in...

"Baroness Breval?"

Indeed, the wife of the Baron de Targos stepped on the carpet. Two steps behind her, a maid carried a tray with a basin filled with water and a towel.

Baroness Cordelia Monsagan Breval, a 35-year-old woman with brown hair, looked calmly at Miriel and nodded.

"You're finally awake."

She said those words in a strange tone... The provincial aristocrat seemed simultaneously reassured and... angry.

"I... excuse me, Baroness, but... how did I get here? I... I don't remember anything."

"You fainted while using your crystal ball. You were unconscious for three days. It was only this morning that your fever dropped. The first two days you were as pale as a dead woman, trembling, covered in sweat."

Oh?... Miriel now remembered using the divination magic to conjure images of a great battle between the Sorcerer Kingdom and Re-Estize and after that... she only remembered a great black nothingness. So that was what happened. She fainted.

Miriel jolted as the baroness laid her hand flat on her forehead.

"The fever goes down. Good. All right, Martha and I" she pointed to the servant "will now wash you."

"Wait, I can do it alone..."

But the baroness cut her off in a tone that admitted no contradiction.

"It's a little late to show modesty. Who do you think wiped the sweat off your body while you were unconscious?"

When Martha left the room, Miriel returned to snuggle up in the bed. She was not cold, but shame burned her cheeks. After opening the curtains she had closed while washing the half-elf, the baroness sat on a chair she had approached from the bed.

"Well, let's talk. I already gave my husband a piece of my mind after he called me for help when you passed out. This idiot should have considered your exhaustion before entrusting you with a difficult task. Now it's your turn..."

The baroness's voice rose a few octaves.

"On behalf of the six Great Gods, could you explain what you tried to do?

Surprised by the sudden anger of Baroness Cordelia Monsagan Breval, Miriel immediately tried to justify herself.

"Baron Breval asked me to..."

"And respond 'No' it didn't occur to you?"

The Baroness paused and closed her eyes trying to breathe slowly. Her fingers trembled slightly.

The reincarnated Japanese were not stupid. She had seen this kind of reaction in movies and manga. But it was the first time someone got angry... because she put herself in danger. It was a pleasant... and uncomfortable feeling. In her heart, a storm was raging. She wanted to believe that someone could care about her... Except that the most realistic (or even the most cynical) part of her soul refused to let her guard down. She had too often been deceived by people who had exploited her desire to be loved.

Having calmed down a little, Cordelia spoke again.

"Young lady, I don't know exactly how to tell you... because... because it should be obvious. You can't stay three days holed up doing who knows what without sleep. Do you think you have unlimited stamina?! You... are a Player, right? It's impossible to bring a Player back to life. You only have one life. If you die, it's final."

Mirieil was startled to understand that one more person had understood that she was from another world. It was probably hard to hide since she was far too powerful compared to the ordinary inhabitant of the New Word.

"Everyone dies... where I come from, everyone... rich and poor... everyone has only one life."

Cordelia sighed and shook her head.

"Then why... why do you make so little effort to protect this existence? I have never heard you refuse to help anyone... except yourself. Why?"

The half-elf looked away. She had never wasted time thinking about it. Every day, "we" reminded Hakuno how unimportant her life was. Looking at the wind playing with the curtains, the Summoner replied without even being aware of speaking.

"How could I love myself? No one ever loved me."

The baroness rose so violently that her chair fell to the ground. Miriel did not even have time to turn her head before... the baroness's arms closed on her shoulders as she squeezed the teenager on her chest.

"No, girlie, you're wrong... this town is full of people who love you and we want you to love yourself too."

Cordelia was crying when she said those words.

The baroness cried but Miriel's eyes remained dry... she could no longer cry. She had learned to hide her grief, never to show signs that words and blows hurt her. The bullies took too much pleasure in making the "weak" cry.

Have you ever heard of the "Golem Effect"?

Never? Actually, you all know this psychological effect... or even used it. It's just that no one named it before you.

You may have heard of its positive variant, the "Pygmalion Effect"?

Neither?

I know... let's talk about "the Placebo Effect"!

Yes, you've heard of it. This almost miraculous psychological effect is known to all doctors. You give a pill without any active component to a patient, you tell him that it will cure him, and... his condition improves.

You are probably ignoring that there is another effect. The evil twin of the Placebo: the "Nocebo Effect". Tell a patient that his illness is incurable, that he will die, and... his condition will worsen... he may even die of a mild illness.

The patient's will has more effect on his healing than the best medicine.

Just after the Second World War, a study on children demonstrated the existence of identical effects but in a non-medical setting.

To sum it up simply, tell a child that he is stupid, that he is clumsy, that he is useless, again and again, and... his intelligence will drop, the child will fail in everything it undertakes... he will have become stupid and clumsy.

This is the Golem Effect.

This effect is known to all the bullies you meet at school. Think of it, why do they keep repeating that you are lame, weak, and stupid? They try to persuade you that this is true. The Golem effect is an example of which is called a "self-fulfilling prediction".

Miriel had not been loved by her parents... it was the worst imaginable trigger for the Golem Effect.

Fortunately, the same self-fulfilling prediction effect could have very positive results. If Miriel was surrounded by positive people who believed in her, by people who loved her, she could do extraordinary things and prove to others... and to herself... that she was worthy to be loved.

It was the Pygmalion Effect.

He looked like an elderly but handsome man with white hair and beard. Large and broad-shouldered, he was dressed in a black butler uniform.

Sebas Tian walked down the street without turning his head. He had a task in progress and his face showed all his determination to carry it out. His loyalty to Nazarick and Ainz Ooal Gown was cast in steel.

Nevertheless, doubt had crept into his heart... would it cause the death of the inhabitants of Targos?

He too clearly remembered what had resulted from his stay in Re-Estize. The city was now a heap of graves... the information he had provided to Ainz-sama had contributed to the annihilation of the kingdom of the same name. Spying wasn't an armless activity.

Among the inhabitants of Nazarick, Sebas belonged to a small minority. Indeed, the Dragonoid was among the few that loved and respected humans. Like Touch Me, his creator, Sebas believed that the role of a strong being was to help those who were weaker than him.

Although his face shows nothing, he was troubled...

The death of legions of strangers had shaken Sebas less than what had happened to two people he knew.

Brain Unglaus had been a highwayman. After a brief encounter with Shalltear Bloodfallen, the warrior had been traumatized. Sebas Tian met him while he was trying to save Tuare, captured by the Six Arms. Sebas had been impressed by Brain Unglaus' fighting qualities and the speed with which he had assimilated his lessons on Inner Strength. Moreover, the Dragonoid had been impressed by the moral strength of this man and his willingness to make a fresh start.

Bravely, Brain Unglaus had challenged Cocytus to a duel in the hope of preventing the fall of Re-Estize... a fight he knew he had no chance of winning.

Climb, the bodyguard of the former Princess Renner was another talented warrior Sebas had met during the same night. Although young, naive, and still inexperienced, Climb had been able to endure his Killing Intent when the Iron Butler tested him. He too had died during the fall of Re-Estize. Fortunately (unfortunately?), Ainz-sama had brought him back to life... because Climb was the "toy" of Renner, the Witch of the Fallen Kingdom, the traitor who had facilitated the conquest of the Re-Estize Kingdom.

The Dragonoid felt responsible for Climb. Indeed, he had promised to train the young man in combat. Now that Climb was isolated in Nazarick, surrounded by those who had destroyed the country where he was born... Sebas had become the closest thing to a friend.

The street led to a square surrounded by several rows of buildings. One side was closed by the wooden wall that surrounded the town of Targos. In the past, this square must have hosted a market. Now it was used to train the city's militia.

Professor emeritus of martial arts, the Dragonoid nodded in an appreciative mimic seeing some of the soldiers walking or running around the square, while a drum punctuated their exercise. It was good training to teach them to stay in formation.

Further inside, the militiamen were divided into sessions. Some fought each other with dummy swords, others learned to shoot bows or crossbows at targets. Still, others struck wooden trunks with their weapons.

Only a real soldier could have imagined such training. Sebas particularly liked the targets representing goblins or orcs on which the shooters practiced. It was a good idea to accustom the militiamen to the appearance of their most likely opponents.

Noticing two individuals in armor standing in the middle of the levies running and training, Sebas decided to join them. While the two men... no, an elf and a half-elf... turned to him, the Dragonoid bowed down, a hand on the heart.

"Greetings, My name is Sebas Tian, I'm Lady Sol's butler. I apologize if I disturb you. But I would like to ask you, are you the trainers of these soldiers?"

The half-elf responded immediately, shaking his hand in embarrassment.

"I'm just teaching them how to use their weapons. My name is Khalid Deez. It's my companion teaching them military tactics."

Sebas can gauge the strength of any creature by the potency of their ki. From what he could feel, this Khalid Deez must have been a little stronger than Climb. However, his armament was of poor quality: a chain mail, a clibanon, and a pot-de-fer-type helmet leaving the face uncovered. Given the large wardoor shield he wore behind his back, Deez was probably a Guardian.

"Perhaps I could help you?"

"Help? You? A butler?"

Khalid did not hide his disbelief and even... his contempt for Sebas. But behind him, his companion shook his head. "Do not judge on appearances," he simply said.

The elf was on the defensive... having immediately felt that the Dragonoid could be a dangerous opponent. He must have had an excellent instinct because the Iron Butler perfectly controlled his aura, hiding his true fighting power.

Sebas bowed down anew, and then looked at the elf, trying to gauge him. Dressed in a chainmail shirt on a blue tunic, he had a heater shield on the back, a short elf sword, and a classic man-made longsword on his belt. He also had a longbow and a quiver over the shoulder.

He was much stronger than Khalid Deez... even outrunning Brain Unglaus. Involuntarily, the Iron Butler raised an eyebrow. It was quite impressive. Given his equipment, his posture, and the quality of his instincts, he had to be a Ranger.

"May I ask your name, sir?"

The elf nodded.

"Leyen Aristeia."

"And you are the one who trains the soldiers of Targos?"

New nod.

Sebas raised an eyebrow; Leyen Aristeia was a man of very few words. His esteem for the young elf was only strengthened. The Iron Butler hated men who were strong when it came to speaking, but who were unable to put their swaggers into action.

"I see. I came to congratulate you for the work you did in training neophytes and also to offer you my help. However, after observing you, I changed my mind. I'd love to train you and your comrade-in-arms Khalid Deez."

"Why?"

Sebas had a slight hesitation.

"Maybe it's simply because I like to train people with great potential. I think any martial arts teacher would be proud to have such students."

"You are a martial arts teacher," Khalid spoke in disbelief.

The Iron Butler nodded while adjusting his white glove. This young man's disrespect began to irritate him. The Guardian deserved a lesson.

"I'm a Monk and a Martial Lord."

Sebas Tian put himself on guard and... the ground cracked under his feet as one of his eyes lit up with a golden light. In an instant, the "good granddad" had disappeared... making way for a monster of irresistible power.

"If you want to test me, I'd be happy to give you your first lesson. Then you'll agree, I think... that this old man can teach you a thing or two. Attack me with all your might, as if you wanted to kill me. Don't hold your strikes."

Khalid Deez was no longer ironic. An icy sweat flowed on his neck and his forehead... although he said to himself that it was only a friendly fight, terror seeped into his bones and flesh.

All his attention was focused on the Dragonoid. He felt like a mouse under the gaze of a king cobra. If he had looked around, Khalid would have noticed that the militiamen had dropped their weapons and now fled in all directions, in the grip of terror. By reflex, the half-elf had drawn his sword and raised his shield.

"Taunt."

First, draw the enemy's attention to him... then...

"Defensive Bastion!"

An aura of light briefly surrounded the half-elf Tank, preceding a metallic 'klang' as his defensive skills increased. He ran towards Sebas.

"Smashing Blow!"

Shield Bash was not a powerful attack intended to kill an enemy, only to make him waver and distract him... to use this momentary weakness to deliver a fatal blow was Leyden's role.

About ten steps behind him, the Ranger had placed an arrow on his bow. As Khalid stepped into action, the elf fired.

"Double Bite!"

—and the arrow split. More precisely, an ectoplasmic double of the arrow fired by the Leyen Aristeia was now flying in a trajectory parallel to the first projectile.

It was a coordinated attack by two Gold-class adventurers... a deadly attack.

But things did not go as planned.

So fast that the eye could not follow his movement, Sebas took a side step and hit Khalid, sticking his fist in his hip... For the Dragonoid it was a 'light blow' *cough, cough*... but the half-elf took off from the ground... and fell five meters away.

Simultaneously, the Iron Butler moved his arm so fast that it turned into a fuzzy wheel. When his hand became visible again, he held the arrow and its protoplasmic double between his fingers.

According to Ainz Ooal Gown, Sebas was capable of sweeping away anyone before him in direct combat.

There was no reason to doubt this assertion.

Sebas Tian could probably conquer a fortified city or defeat an army on his own.

Watching his two opponents as shocked as each other, he relaxed, letting his arms fall along his body. The fight was over.

"Gentlemen, I think you are now convinced that I can teach you a lot."

... that was the understatement of the year.

Sebas spent much of the afternoon with the two warriors... The militiamen having fled, the duo's schedule had suddenly been lightened. They now had free time for their first lesson. He taught them the basics of the Inner Strength.

The Iron Butler was an incredibly talented Martial Arts teacher. By the end of his first lesson, Climb developed a new Martial Art exclusive to himself, which allowed him to consciously control his adrenal response for a momentary boost of strength.

In this regard, Khalid Deez had somewhat disappointed the Dragonoid. He was not as good a student as Climb or Brain Unglaus. The half-elf was relatively slow (physically and mentally). The mercenary was self-taught, having never received formal training in the combat arts. It was difficult for him to unlearn the reflexes taught by years of sweating and bleeding.

Leyen Aristeia was the exact opposite of his comrade. Noticeably younger (he was in his teens), the Ranger was still in this phase where an individual built himself. Besides, his mind was like a quicksilver... always in motion. It was rarely necessary to explain the same lesson twice for him to understand it. Finally, the Ranger already had an instinctive understanding of Inner Strength. He was already controlling his movements and his breathing. The beasts of the forest had taught him inner peace.

The potential of this young elf was immense... Leyen Aisteia was even the most talented New World inhabitant Sebas had met so far.

As Sebas came to the central square, he raised an inquiring eyebrow as he saw that a crowd was gathering. Sitting on a flying carpet, a young half-elf bid farewell to Baron Breval and his wife. As he watched the teenager's face, he recognized Miriel through the charcoal drawing that Demiurge had made of her.

Although these two Nazarick's NPC did not appreciate each other very much, the Iron Butler was still impressed by the demon's artistic talent. The portrait he had made was very faithful to the original. What a pity that Demiurge's favorite art was... sculptures made of assembled human bones.

In the audience, the Dragonoid spotted Solution Epsilon. Beautiful, blonde, and arrogant. She was dressed in a dress worthy of a duchess and waved a fan. Behind her, dressed in the Nazarick's maid outfit, Tuareninya Veyron had her hands crossed on her apron and her head lowered in a humble and dignified attitude.

Many people in Targos had their eyes fixed on the female duo. After all, they rarely had the opportunity to see such beautiful women. Once again, Ainz-sama demonstrated his genius. The two women caught everyone's attention... and made a great diversion.

With a hand on the heart, the butler bowed deeply before his "mistress".

"I'm back, milady."

Waving her fan, 'Lady Sol' looked coldly at the Dagonoid, acting superior.

"I hope you found what I asked you, Sebas. I hate to wait."

The many extravagant demands of 'Lady Sol' forced 'poor' Sebas (worked to the bone by the arrogant rich woman) to run from one end of Targos to the other... which was a perfect excuse for his spy activities.

"Of course, my Lady."

Coming to position himself near Tuare, two steps behind their 'mistress', Sebas leaned towards his Girlfriend to talk to her in a low voice.

"What's going on?"

"Miriel... finally Nimrodel, as the locals call her... finally woke up. The Baron de Targos wanted her to rest, but it seems she has something urgent to do."

The Dragonoid had much better vision and hearing than a human being and could still improve his physical abilities (including the senses) by infusing ki to strengthen his organs and muscles.

He had no trouble listening to the conversation.

"... don't worry. I won't do anything dangerous and I'll be back in five or six days," the Summoner said.

Cordelia Monsagan Breval protested energetically.

"You are still very weak."

She probably had many other things to say, but Miriel took advantage of the baroness stopping to present her arguments rationally to speak very quickly.

"I have something urgent to do. Time is of the essence. If I wait any longer, the opportunity will be lost and never come back. Trust me."

The half-elf looked around and Sebas saw her frowning as she looked at Solution Epsilon... about to say something, she changed her mind, shrugging her shoulders.

"Diolaine, come with me. I'm going to need your help."

Once the thief joined the Summoner, the carpet rose from the ground to hover over the heads.

Miriel waved and took off... heading northeast.

Sebas nodded. It was time to report to Ainz-sama.

Two days later, Silksuntecks, Slane Theocracy.

Like every night, Raymond Zar Laurasan, Cardinal of Fire, worked in his office. Files were placed on his desk. On the one hand, the documents read, annotated, and approved were waiting to be implemented, on the other hand, another pile kept growing probably due to an evil demon that brought more and more files that he had to read and sign.

While Laurasan cursed the bureaucracy, secretly wishing that all the bureaucrats would fall dead for humanity to be freed from the worst scourge that had ever plagued it, knocks against a wall awakened him from his lucid dream... the blows were struck at a precise pace.

He opened a panel hidden in the woodwork and saw Diolaine emerge from the narrow secret passage dug inside the wall.

"Already back," he wondered.

Behind the spy, he recognized Miriel and was surprised to see her so pale and suffering... there were also two male figures. The two men were dressed in hooded capes and their faces were in the shadows. Quite concerned, the cardinal retreated towards his desk. There was a cord near the window curtain. All he had to do was pull it so that the guards stationed at the door would enter his office.

"Diolaine, who are these people?"

It was the taller of the two men who answered instead of the spy, lowering his hood to reveal his face...

"Please excuse us for this intrusion, Cardinal Laurasan. It seems that my son and I are here to seek diplomatic asylum."

Raymond Zar Laurasan's eyes opened wide under the effect of surprise. Fortunately, he had spent years learning the etiquette. He knelt, respectfully lowering his head.

"Be most welcome, Your Majesty. Please excuse my disbelief, but... you're supposed to be dead."

The tall and strong old man has long hair similar to snow and a beard just as white. He answered with a sad smile.

"Indeed, I was killed by my traitorous daughter... but this young lady brought me back from the dead" he pointed to Miriel.

Laurasan frowned, turning to the Summoner to apostrophe her in an accusing tone.

"Did you use clerical magic?"

The Slane Theocracy prohibited lay spellcasters from using the magic of the gods. It was a heresy punishable by the torment of the pyre...

"Don't worry, I can't. On the other hand, I can read Cleric Scrolls... I had to use two Resurrection Scrolls, plus a Restoration Scroll for his Royal Highness the Prince... he had been beheaded. You know, Monsignore... everything would be a lot easier for me if you would stop charging me at every opportunity. I guarantee that Jaldabaoth and Gown are dangerous enough without requiring you to force me to fight while hopping on one foot and an arm tied in the back. I'm not naive enough to expect you to thank me for risking my life to save yours... but it would be a clear improvement in my condition if you stopped to stand in the way."

The old man intervened.

"If the kingdom of Re-Estize still existed, I would ennoble you, Lady Miriel. Alas... my capital was reduced to ashes, my armies no longer exist..."

Laurasan turned to his two royal hosts.

"But you are back among the living, King Ramposa III, and you too..." he turned toward the blond man, smaller, younger, with a fat belly "...prince Zanac Valleon Igana Ryle Vaiself. It is a great pleasure to welcome you in Silksunteck. I will arrange a private interview with the Pontifex Maximus... starting tomorrow." He glanced at the Summoner. The half-elf massaged her forehead while Diolaine stared at her with anxiety. Miriel seemed ready to faint. "I think you all need a good night's sleep."

Miriel had spent two days searching the battlefield of the final defeat of the Re-Estize's army to find the prince's remains, then the ruins of the destroyed capital to seek the king's tomb.

Laurasan smiled, suddenly embarrassed.

"Please excuse me, Lady Miriel, I unjustly accused you instead of thanking you for your efforts... " He winced." I just have to be an old fanatic unable to adapt to the changes in the New World. You have done very well in bringing back to life His Majesty and His Highness the Crown Prince... as long as they are alive, the kingdom of Re-Estize will continue to exist. A proverb says, 'One stumble on a stone, rarely on a mountain'. And you just put two stones on Gown's way, two stones that - if we put them in the right place- can trip up the Sorcerer King."

At this time, that was all Miriel could do, collect those little stones.

But, one stone after another, the Summoner had begun to build a bridge that would one day span over the deepest canyons.

The same night, north of Roble Holly Kingdom.

The darkness stretched between the trees. In the clearing, it was a little less dark. The stars lit up an area covered with grass and one could hear a frustrated neighing when a horse stumbled in the darkness.

On the back of the mount, a young nobleman trembled slightly... it was not very cold. It was one of those summer nights where crickets sang and glowworms danced ballets.

No, Adolf Damian Montombre Count of Valmy was not cold... fear was the cause of his discomfort.

The frantic beats of his heart resounded so loudly that they looked like a drumming. The man turned his head to one side and then to the other... his instinct told him to run away but he could not.

"Vala" he murmured. And this name, this incantation, strengthens his failing courage.

His little girl was waiting for him in the family mansion. Vala was only five. She was such a lovely little girl, cheerful, playful. When she got sick, Montombre called the best healers, the most famous alchemists... He even sent a letter to the alchemist Nfiera Bareare... even though he was at the service of the Sorcerer King. Except that no one could help him, the disease was unknown. Certainly, some clerical miracles could cure all diseases. But they were legendary spells. Only the most powerful priests, during complex rituals, and by sacrificing fortunes in catalysts, could cast such spells.

Count Montombre was willing to do anything to save Vala, even make a pact with the Devil, a nightmare creature dancing in the darkness of madness.

His specialties?

Fix the bodies.

Pervert the souls.

Lie.

Deceive.

Cheat.

Betray.

"I made you wait, Count Montombre?"

Aldolf Damian Montombre was startled and turned around. The demon suddenly stood ahead, wearing an orange suit, his face hidden by a mask. Jaldabaoth bowed a hand to the heart while his long, spiked tail struck the ground.

The Count was sweating bullets as Demiurge smiled under his mask. The terror of humans was like a vintage vine for the demon.

"Do you have..." Montombre swallowed. "Do you have what... what you promised me?

"But of course, a deal is a deal."

Demiurge took an ivory tube and handed it to the count.

The latter unscrewed the end of the phylactery to take out a parchment covered with a magic pentagram and inscriptions.

"Any priest can read this Cleric Scroll, the effect is instantaneous. Congratulations, your precious little girl will be able to continue her uninteresting syrupy existence."

Montombre put the parchment in the tube and pocketed it.

The point of no return had passed... he was now a traitor in the service of Jaldabaoth.

"I'll do what we agreed."

Jadalbaoth laughed softly.

"Of course, because a deal engages both parties."

As the Count turned around to leave, the Demonic Emperor called him back.

"One last thing, I don't think you're stupid enough to... forget to honor your part of the deal. So I'm not going to waste my time uttering pointless threats... Nevertheless, you will easily guess who would pay the price for my dissatisfaction. There are ways to die infinitely more unpleasant than illness. Do we understand each other well, my new friend?"

"Yes, Lord Jadalbaoth."

Author's note: I hope this new chapter has pleasantly surprised you.

Sebas training Leyen and Khalid.

The resurrection of King Ramposa III...

In the next chapters, you will see Count Montombre commit one abomination after another. Forgive him... he is the first victim of his own betrayal. And then... did you think you were in a position to throw the first stone at him?