Here we are. Another chapter. Took 3 months, but hey, I did say you'd get another one. I can't promise speedy updates with this fic, but they will come. Hopefully also a bit more quickly now that i am back into writing with my other fic.
Chapter 3:
After introductions and a show of fealty, it quickly became clear that what Jaune was looking at was more than just a handful of monsters under his charge.
Nazarick was a monstrously huge structure with numerous floors, and each floor housed its own numerous, and deadly, monstrosities.
The ones kneeling before him were each in charge of their respective floor, meaning he was looking at the most powerful monsters of them all. Possibly.
What this meant was that he had his work cut out for him.
"So," he began. He didn't want to screw this up.
"Could one of you care to remind me where exactly we are right now? Where is Nazarick situated."
It sounded as if he were testing them, and hopefully that would dissuade any treacherous questioning.
Demiurge was the one to answer.
"Forgive me, Lord Rusted, but it appears that Nazarick is no longer situated in the Great Swamps. Following the recent disturbance, the prophesised Shutdown, it would appear that a great awakening has occurred."
Jaune blinked, and not for the first time was he grateful that his helmet obscured his face.
"While its effects remain to be seen in the long term, the immediate boon is Nazarick is currently able to operate at a greater degree of efficiency, and with increased flexibility in its defense parameters. Unfortunately, Nazarick has appeared to have been displaced."
Displaced? How? And where to?
"Currently, an immediate survey has revealed that we are surrounded by grass plains and forests. As a survey is only just being conducted, the current reports are yielding minimal information, but I hope for that to be amended shortly," Demiurge finished with a bow.
Well, Demiurge certainly was proactive. On one hand that was a good thing, as it meant he would have more immediate answers. On the other, though, it was also bad. He did not want a literal demon running around the country side doing as it pleased.
"And might I ask under whose authority was this done?"
"It was mine, my Lord," bowed Demiurge. Unapologetic.
Jaune frowned underneath his helm.
"Going forward from now, you will run any such decisions through me first. Nazarick," the words felt strange on his tongue, "is to remain hidden. Including its denizens. Especially since we are now in a new world."
Demiurge did not look chastised. If anything, he seemed to nod along in wholehearted agreement.
"But of course, Lord Rusted. I already gave the Hanzos instructions to remain hidden, and only to ascertain the lands surrounding us within a 2 kilometre radius. If they encountered any signs of intelligent life, they are to fall back immediately. Without compromising our location."
If only things would ever be so simple. He let out a sigh, and the sound escaped his helmet with a hiss. Everyone and everything present seemed to ever-so-slightly tense as they anticipated his next words.
He couldn't just pull these Hanzo's back. Not when he needed answers to his location outside of Nazarick. But he certainly couldn't just trust the words of a demon, even though he was beginning to realise he would have no choice but to.
"They are not to engage anyone or anything. No matter how hostile it might seem to be. They are to remain hidden, and I expect that report as soon as they return."
"Naturally," smiled Demiurge.
"And no-one else is to leave Nazarick without my express permission. No-one and nothing leaves. Period."
There was no argument. There was no protest. Not even a disgruntled sound or frown. All of the Guardians nodded resolutely, and in unison said 'Hai'. Whatever that meant. Maybe it was some demonic word for yes.
He wasn't a superstitious person, but considering how fucked up things were, he didn't want to chance the word being some literal curse if he uttered it.
"If I may, what are your next orders?" probed Demiurge.
Go and slit your own throat, or go back to hell and never return.
"I would like to review Nazarick's current strength. Its population and denizens, and what they have to offer."
Demiurge's smile was all teeth, and even from his kneeling position, he still managed to seem frightening.
"But of course. I will have preparations done immediately. When would you like your report ready?"
Jaune instinctively bit out an answer.
"As soon as humanly possible."
He failed to notice the curious tilt of Demiurge's head, but the archdemon gave no inclination of displeasure. Instead, he nodded resolutely.
"Of course. Your will shall be done."
Albedo took the silence as an opportunity to speak up.
"Lord Rusted. Forgive me for my impertinence, but we have prepared Lord Momonga's body to be preserved and rest in the treasury until his eventual return. Is this most fitting and aligned with your desires?"
Demiurge felt his smile thin as the Overseer spoke. There was no mistaking the melancholy in her voice, nor the way her eyes seemed notably softer, as if she were holding back tears.
To anyone else, she looked cold and impassive, ready to serve. But him, it was plain as day she was doing everything within her might to compose herself. Not that he could really fault her. They had just lost their master, the leader of the… Forty-two? Supreme Beings? That wasn't right. There were Forty One! But no, surely there were Forty-Two! Otherwise Lord Rusted wouldn't be here.
He shook his head to clear such blasphemous musings.
Of course there were Forty-two Supreme Beings.
Jaune felt his mouth work slowly, but no sound was heard. Swallowing, he spoke up.
"That is fine. I trust you hold enough respect for him to ensure he is laid to proper rest. As for his return…" he trailed off.
Truthfully, he had no idea about any of this situation, let alone whatever fate intended with that bag of bones called Momonga. And frankly, he didn't want to know. Well, he did, saving the world and all, but the less it involved undead gods of death returning, the better!
The Guardians seemed to be glued to his every word with visible anticipation, and daresay, hope?
"I cannot say at this point, but only time will tell regarding whatever is for the best."
It felt ambiguous enough to be straightforward enough, so hopefully these monsters would take his words at face value and not read into them.
It worked, as they all seemed to hang off of his every word.
He would have to deal with the body at some point, but that was not now.
Instead, it was time he got to work. Namely, with keeping all of these monsters contained, and with figuring out what to do.
It didn't take much to excuse himself under the premise of needing to complete work for Nazarick. Truthfully he was tired, but his departure didn't mean he could just rest. Instead, he had Sebas and the maids show him around the ninth floor. Under the guise of inspecting the place of course. Everyone and everything here assumed he was already intimately familiar with the location, and he didn't want to break that illusion right now. He was not capable of fighting so many entities at once.
He was tempted to keep Juniper by his side at all times right now, but the twins were absolutely fawning over the Jackelope. Considering their pledge of loyalty, he decided to let her stay on the fifth floor and rest. With strict instructions no harm or distress was to befall her. His intimidation act had the twins nodding their heads furiously and gulping with anxiety.
Was it risky and even foolish to leave her behind? Perhaps. But he had a feeling the dark elves were better company than a literal demon and succubus.
Speaking of, as tempting as it was to dismiss them, he didn't want to just leave them alone to their own devices.
He made it clear that no-one and nothing was permitted to leave Nazarick at all. Anything and anyone already outside of Nazarick was to be immediately recalled, with the exception of the Hanzos. He wanted that report.
They assumed it was part of his plan to tighten their security following the rumoured change in worlds that everyone felt.
In reality, he just didn't want these monsters roaming around where innocent people could get brutally killed, tortured, mutilated, or worse.
The level of obedience to his every command was downright frightening. He was never challenged, and no excuses were provided.
So, after memorising the layout of the ninth floor, he now found himself in what was a grand office room.
A massive varnished wooden desk, with intricate patterns and space aplenty, sat opposite the main door.
All around the walls, gold-framed artwork and statues circled the room.
A smaller door lay nestled behind the desk, likely to some private quarters. Maybe to another room with filed paperwork?
For bloodthirsty creatures, they sure were organised. Another reason to be wary.
Tracing a gloved hand over the desk, he let it glide slowly over its ultra-smooth surface.
Everything felt surreal. The level of wealth on display, the perfect cleanliness, and the smooth architecture on display. Combined with how flawless these creatures looked, it was almost artificial.
Tentatively, he pulled the large chair out and took a seat.
His armoured suit made a sound more akin to crashing down rather than a delicate sit, and the noise seemed to be even louder in the absolute silence of the room, despite all of its occupants.
"The maids are dismissed," he said through his helmet.
All of the Pleiades bowed their heads before filing out of the room.
That left him with three figures.
Sebas, the butler. If he even was just a butler. He highly doubted it.
Albedo, the literal succubus, and Nazaricks apparent second in charge directly under him.
And the literal fucking demon, Demiurge.
His creepy expectant smile and gleaming eyes hidden behind those glasses did nothing to calm him down.
"So," he began, his throat suddenly dry.
What the hell was he even supposed to say?
Albedo must have taken that as a cue to start speaking.
"We have recalled all of Nazaricks denizens within the tomb, and the floors have each been put on the highest of alert states. As per your orders, no-one is permitted to leave."
He supposed he had asked for that. But hearing that this ticking time-bomb of a place was now on high alert was not exactly what he wanted to hear either.
His silence only seemed to serve as an invitation for Demiurge.
"I have also received the final reports from the Hanzos and recalled them as per your orders."
He presented to him a small stack of papers that, upon closer inspection, where hand-written.
The writing was immaculate and beyond legible. Jaune felt himself overtaken by surprise.
"Did you write this?"
Demiurge nodded with a demure 'yes'. Jaune was beyond impressed. It had barely been an hour an half since he departed from the other Guardians.
It would take him an hour to go over these papers, and yet the Demon had written it in even less?
He accepted the papers and shuffled through them quickly.
By some miracle, he was able to understand the language, but that was all.
The names, terminology, and references to magic and statuses did nothing but make him even more confused.
"Demiurge. Can you please summarise this report for me."
He needed answers now. He would read through it in his own time later, but for now, he wanted a clearer picture.
"Certainly, Lord Rusted."
With methodical analysis, the Arch-Demon briefly explained the situation outside of Nazarick.
Jaune listened carefully.
Plains as far as the eyes could see. In the far distance, a massive forest loomed. No signs of life, not even intelligent. But, there was one peculiarity that stood out.
"The Hanzos did report coming across the remains of small village that had recently been burnt to the ground. Estimates place it within a day old, assuming the rate of decay and decomposition matches that of our old world."
That caught his attention.
"Where there any bodies?" he asked. A burnt down village indicated people and civilisation of a sort. He wouldn't dare hope there to be any survivors, especially a day after. If there were, they likely would have fled elsewhere.
"Indeed, Lord Rusted. However, as per your orders, nothing was disturbed to maintain our cover. We have yet to ascertain if the village is being surveilled still."
Jaune hummed thoughtfully.
Demiurge continued his report.
"Twenty-six human bodies were observed. Seven were burnt within their homesteads. The remaining nineteen show signs of execution in what could be assumed to be the town centre, with numerous lacerations, arrowshots and dismemberments."
So, a raid then?
"What makes you certain they all belong to the village?" he asked.
"All the bodies wore peasant attire, and none of them bore any physical signs of being warriors. Nor were there any weapons sans farming implements present." Demiurge showed no remorse or care.
Albedo shook her head with disgust.
"Tsk. Pathetic."
Demiurge seemed to share her view as he nodded. Jaune felt his blood boil, and his fists clenched more tightly. The leather creaked. Still, he didn't see the point in outing himself as a human in front of these monstrosities.
"Were there any other discernible threats?" he bit out. Demiurge straightened himself, sensing something seemed off about his lord.
"None that were observed by the Hanzo's, my Lord, though I would suggest caution – ".
"I would like to inspect this village for myself."
Albedo and Demiurge exchanged a look, while Sebas spoke up uncertainly.
"Lord Rusted. Forgive me, but by your own words you wanted us to remain hidden…?"
Jaune stood up, the chair pushing back with an audible scrape.
"I am aware of what I said. But something, or someone killed these people. And I want to know what."
Raiders were scum as far as he was concerned. Remnant already suffered enough at the hands of Grimm, and supply shortages outside the walls were a real risk. To have someone come along and raid a settlement, and kill people, was evil. He might have a new self-imposed duty to regulate these monsters of Nazarick, but he was also a Huntsman. And like hell was he going to sit back and allow people to be murdered without regard….
The Guardians initially protested him leaving Nazarick to investigate the village remains, and it took some convincing on their part to eventually have someone accompany him for his safety.
He conceded, but only on the condition of it being someone who appeared more human.
And thus, after being equipped with a Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown at Demiurges insistence, he teleported via an ominous portal to the scene of the crime.
It was nauseating to teleport. His stomach would take a while to get used to doing so on a frequent basis. But he also saw the appeal of it.
Immediately trailing out from behind his portal was Sebas, dressed immaculately in his butler suit.
The sun was beginning to rise, and the crumbling black husks of burnt out homesteads blended in with the shadows still present.
Ash permeated the soil he walked upon, and the last vestiges of wispy smoke from the last remaining embers wafted into nothingness.
Jaune's nose wrinkled in disdain. His helmet might protect his face and obscure his features, but it did nothing to hide the smell of burnt wood and flesh, nor the coppery tang of blood in the air as the crimson ocean soaked into the ground, muddying the ash.
There was another smell, one even more pungent. The smell of death.
As he approached the small town centre, if it could count as one (there were only a handful of homesteads), the smell of releasing bodily fluids became equally as overwhelming.
Such was life, and in this case, death.
The Floor Guardians had put up some protective anti-scrying magical barrier, using the help of Nigredo and Aureole. Apparently, there was a real possibility this place was being observed.
He let his gaze trail to the fading morning stars of the sky, half-imagining and expecting an Atlas drone to be hovering up there somewhere.
He shook his head.
Sebas interrupted the quiet.
"My Lord, are you certain you wish to be here? This is a rather unseemly sight and experience…."
Jaune shook his head.
"There's something I must see for myself," and with that he marched forward to the blood-soaked ground where the villagers were lying.
"May I ask, what is it exactly you are looking for, Lord Rusted?"
Sebas was curious. As were all of the Guardians currently viewing them through a mirror of remote viewing, ready to act if there Lord was in danger.
Jaune knelt down to the first body, and with a gloved hand, touched the corpse's shoulder.
It belonged to a woman. Young. Barely twenty. Her glazed over eyes conveying a final expression of terror before her gruesome death.
Her disembowelled internal organs lay leaking on the ground.
With great care, he let his fingers close her eyes.
Standing up, he looked around, all while Sebas waited patiently.
After inspecting the bodies and ruins for several minutes, Jaune finally spoke.
"Sebas." He perked up. "What is your opinion on these people."
The butler frowned slightly. Was he asking for his opinion on what happened?
"These humans were murdered, Lord Rusted."
"That is an observation Sebas. I can see that quite clearly with my own eyes. I asked what is your opinion on these people."
Sebas stiffened at his lord's tone.
"I beg your forgiveness, Lord Rusted. I fail to grasp the meaning of your question."
Sebas could only watch as the heat in his master's voice escaped him with a sigh, his armoured shoulders sagging. Almost as if he were disappointed.
"Then perhaps I should ask a different question. What do you know of me, Sebas?"
That question was even more confusing, but it was one he could at least answer.
"Lord Rusted. You are the last remaining Supreme Being of the Forty-Two, admitted into the ranks of Ainz Ooal Gown personally by Lord Momonga. Beyond that, your reputation preceded you as that of an impossible warrior, capable of defeating many Players with ease."
Players. Jaune tasted the word silently on his lips. Player. Like a vessel within a game. Is that what he was to all these gods? A vessel in their grand game. That thought pissed him off.
Still, he had seen all that he needed to. As much as he wanted to go and pursue vengeance, whoever had attacked was long gone.
There were horse tracks that arrived from the south, assuming the sun rose in the east and set in the west like Remnant. Those same tracks amassed and continued west, closer to the forest line seen many many miles away.
He felt his teeth clench in rage.
Whoever these people were, they had not deserved their fate. They were farmers. Elderly. Mothers and children. And all brutally cut down. Two women's remains had been clearly stripped and violated before being violently killed.
"Sebas." The butler stiffened.
"Have the Hanzos follow these tracks. I want to know who it was that attacked here. Find them, and observe them."
Sebas bowed. "Right away, my Lord," before placing a hand to his ear to cast Message.
With a flick of his hand, Jaune opened the Portal back to Nazarick and made to leave, but suddenly stopped.
"Sebas."
The butler glanced at him, giving pause to his orders via message.
"See to it that these people are given a proper rest that dignifies their death. The dead should not be violated nor left in such disrespect."
With that, he returned to Nazarick, his mind abuzz with what he had witnessed. Sebas was quick to follow, and then the portal closed.
Demiurge's mind was abuzz with what he had just witnessed and heard. What was the greater meaning of their Lord's words. The questions he asked. The orders he gave. It was clear that their master was planning something. But what?
What do you know of me? His mind instantly recalled as much information as he could, but all he could do was fill in numerous blanks with uncertainty. Outside of the basics that even Sebas had listed, there was not much he, nor anyone he suspected, knew about their enigmatic master.
I might need to ask him myself. NO! That would be foolish. I would already be expected to anticipate his very moves and understand him already.
But that left a conundrum to him. How could he serve his lord better if he didn't know him. And how could he know him better if he couldn't be seen as already capable of serving him?
I will have to visit the Great Library later and analyse records of all Forty Two later.
For now, their lord was returning, which meant he would require further serving.
But then there was the other question. What is your opinion on these people?
His opinions was that they were at best bipedal sheep, fit only for harvest as resources. And that was at best. Even livestock had a use. He would find a use later for their corpses, but then his lord had thrown him for an even further loop.
See to it that these people are given a proper rest that dignifies their death. The dead should not be violated nor left in such disrespect.
What was he planning? What were his intentions?
He already seemingly was violating his own rules of remaining hidden by stepping outside the tomb, and even further by altering the scene of this attack.
Albedo shared his thoughts too, it would seem.
"This plan of his is very… peculiar?"
Demiurge for the briefest of moments felt rage at her words, but he supressed it. Much like himself, she was uncertain as to their lord's intent. What grand meaning his plans might have.
"It is our duty to serve. Our master's plan is simply one we are not seeing yet. But it will become apparent when it is time."
Demiurge was certain of it, and Albedo was content.
Not even a minute later, and the same inky black portal that he had used to depart for the bunt out village materialised in the room they were seated in.
Jaune felt tired. He had for the past day. Scratch that. The past decade. Sleep always eluded him, and when it did arrive, the scant few hours he managed to cling to were always plagued with nightmares of his failures.
Yet, the body did not lie, and once again, his body began to rebel, threatening to ship him off to a new hell.
However, now was not the time for rest.
The Floor Guardians and Pleiades were awaiting for his safe return, and as he strode through the portal, the signature echo of his armour rustling, Sebas following behind, they all bowed down before him.
The large room had several seats and couches arranged in a square, with a roaring fire in the mantle of the wall directly before him.
A purple rug stretched out, with a rather long coffee table in the centre.
The Guardians all awaited him.
The elf twins, Albedo, Demiurge, Shalltear and Cocytus. He was too tired to deal with their genuflecting, and with a tired 'rise', ordered them to stand back up and resume their seats.
Silence permeated the air, and the Guardians all looked to him expectantly.
Silently asking a single question. What was his plan?
At this point, there was no grand plan. Only a mission. Protect humanity. And right now, the very first threat wasn't more mythical monsters, it was very likely people. Real, tangible people. No different from the raiders of the Branwen tribe. And that disgusted him.
He was just too damn tired from it all.
His mind was still reeling from the past day alone as it was.
He refused to take a seat, instead grabbing the papers and files that Albedo and Demiurge had both prepared for him.
The Guardians jolted as he snatched them from the table.
"I have a lot to look into right now," he explained, his irritation seeping through.
"I would like to be left alone for now."
His tone brokered no argument, and the Guardians all felt an insurmountable pressure on them that screamed to obey.
Oblivious to how he was perceived, he paced towards a seat nearest the fireplace, crashing down into it.
"Keep Nazarick under strict lockdown, and maintain a low profile. Inform me if anyone or anything comes near us. And let me know if the Hanzos find anything."
Those were his orders. The Guardians would respect and fulfil them.
"Of course, Lord Rusted," bowed the Guardian Overseer.
As one, the Guardians all stood and left the room, leaving Jaune alone with his thoughts and papers.
He had tried to probe Sebas. He wanted to get a better read on the older man. Being. Whatever he was. It sure as hell wasn't human. That much he was certain of. But disregarding that, Sebas didn't seem to express a will of his own. He gave him soft answers. Safe answers.
He shook his head as he glanced at the first of the reports.
He would have to try again. A different set of questions. And not just limited to Sebas.
Glancing at the report, the first thng of note was a list of all of Nazaricks denizens, including their strengths and weaknesses. Duties and attributes. No detail had been spared.
This wasn't strictly the work of Demiurge or Albedo, he realised.
These reports were long ago created. They read almost as a character profile sheet.
Classes. Races. Abilities. HP and Mana counts. Armour and Damage. Potential Area of Effect for damage. Unique abilities.
He wanted to laugh. It was almost like a classes for an RPG.
He put them aside to look through later.
The next report detailed Nazarick's structure and defense layers. It also included points of interest for teleportation if one did not have a Ring of Ainz Oooal Gown.
He stared absent-mindedly at the Ring in question.
None of the Guardians possessed one. It was something that only the Supreme Beings apparently had.
He tried to suppress a yawn that snuck up on him, and he felt himself sink deeper into the couch, the warmth of the fireplace tempting his body with the allure of sleep.
He tried to resist, but after so long, his body finally caved.
The papers eventually slipped from his grasp onto the ground, and he was lost to another world…
Sleep did not come easily to him, yet the events of late had inevitably decided to come collect their debt, and they took it by surprise.
He was in a different world, once again. Only, this time it was one more familiar.
Remnant burned. Fire spread everywhere. All around, that cursed void disintegrated the land around him, eating up more and more space. He tried to run, to escape it all. But it caught up to him, until eventually the ground under his feet gave to the void of nothingness. And so, he fell.
He screamed as he fell. But to no avail. He landed in Atlas, on the platform, only to see Ironwood and an army of his machines with guns holding Team RNJR and RWBY captive.
Ironwood walked menacingly down the line, brandishing his signature revolver.
"Atlas trusted you," he spat.
The words were towards the young huntresses, but for some reason they felt aimed specifically at him.
He aimed a revolver at Nora's head, her fiery spirit wavering as certain death loomed before her.
"I trusted you."
Jaune screamed as he pulled the trigger.
She died.
The barrel travelled to Ren's head next as he marched slowly.
"It was a mistake to."
Ren's head snapped as the bullet tore through his head.
The barrel rested on Ruby's head.
He felt tears of grief and rage pour down his face as he tried to desperately run across the platform to the mad General.
"You should have never been Huntsmen."
Ruby smiled weakly to him, and he screamed as the bullet tore through her beautiful face.
The world warped into that cursed world, and instantly the memories of Ruby lying dead on the floor as the Cat smiled gleefully trounced around.
"Weak," it called.
"Pathetic," came Yang's voice.
"Liar," snarled Ren's voice.
He clutched his head.
"Stop it," he muttered.
"Coward," decried Blake.
"Stop it," he begged, this time more desperately.
"You let me die," stated Ruby, now standing up, her face a blank void.
"I tried," he responded, but his voice sounded weak and pathetic, even to him.
"You could have tried harder," this time, it was her.
Pyrrha.
"STOP IT!" he cried out, his voice a mix of terror and rage.
And then he heard it. Cinder's voice.
"Apologies Lord Rusted," the voice was polite, and unnaturally demure.
He couldn't take it. All of his rage and grief came forth, and he drew his sword, the shattered blade of Crocea Mors coming forth with a pained scream and battle-cry as he leapt up towards the floating head of a mocking Cinder.
Her face morphed into one of childish terror as she screamed in pure unadulterated terror.
He showed no mercy as the sword closed in on her throat.
Only to wake as he lunged at a strange maid with his broken blade, Cinders scream morphing into hers.
Fiore stumbled back and over the small table as Lord Rusted suddenly pounced on her with his shattered sword, screaming out a bloodcurdling ragged 'CINDER!' at the top of his lungs.
She did not have the reflexes of the Guardians, nor the skills of even the lower tier mobs. She was but a mere Level 1 Humonculus maid.
She had no time to react as the blade reached her throat.
It was only by pure luck of being frightened that she tripped backwards, the shattered blade only just cutting her throat with a thin slice.
She lay sprawled on her back, trembling fearfully with one hand up to shield her face as she blabbered incoherently.
"Please forgive me Lord Rusted! I didn't mean to disturb you! I was only trying to clean the room sire!"
Her eyes were clenched shut as she tried her hardest not to pass out from the bloodthirsty rage of her master, who stood heaving and panting over her body like a hungry wolf. His blade gripped tightly and hanging idly by his side as consciousness returned to him.
He took in his surroundings.
It was a dream?
Cinder wasn't here. It was just himself and… he glanced down. A maid?
One who was lying trembling and blabbering, begging for forgiveness.
He clenched his helmeted head, letting his sword drop with a loud clatter to the ground as he collapsed back into the seat he had dozed off on.
It was all a dream. He realised.
Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the situation he was still in. Trapped in another world as the perceived god of a cohort of monsters.
He glanced back down to a trembling Fiore.
What monster is she? He mused with a scowl, only for it falter as he finally took in her terrified state.
Despite being a den of monsters, they still felt fear he noted.
She's afraid of me, he realised.
Argh, why couldn't things ever be simple!
He stood back up, looming over the maid who had ceased her blubbering.
"Hey," he spoke gruffly.
The maid opened her eyes slowly, looking up at him.
"What's your name."
"F-Fiore, Lord Rusted."
He took in her visage, continuing.
"What are you doing here Fiore?"
"I'm one of the Homonculus Maids assigned to this floor. I was in the middle of cleaning this room and was up to the table, but I didn't want to disturb you, sir."
She felt weak and pathetic at that moment as he appraised her silently. Unmoving. Like an ominous statue rendering judgement upon her.
He extended an armoured hand to her, one which took her an embarrassingly long time to realise for her.
She accepted, and he pulled her up effortlessly.
It felt like a dream, this moment between her and her Lord. She couldn't help but internally fawn over this little bit of perceived intimate treatment.
"Don't ever wake me up again."
It was a warning. And an order.
With that, he went and settled back down in his seat by the fire, picking up the documents that had fallen askew when he dozed off.
"O-oh," she deflated. "Of course, Lord Rusted. Forgive me for my intrusion. Would you like me to leave cleaning this room until you are finished?"
He was silent, and for a moment, she wondered if she had offended him.
"Yes," he finally answered.
She bowed deeply before picking up her cleaning instruments and backing out of the room.
As she shut the doors, she breathed out a sigh of relief.
Only to have it turn into a high-pitched yelp of surprise as Lupusregina materialised behind her with Narberal and Solution.
"Hey, is everything alright in there ~su?"
Lupusregina lacked her normal joking laughter, a more serious and deadly look on her face.
Even the other Pleiades looked equally tense and serious.
Scary, she realised as she shook her head.
"No – I mean yes!"
Lupusregina cocked an eyebrow as she leaned in.
"Really?"
"Yes, I swear. I accidentally woke Lord Rusted when I was assigned to clean the room and surprised him. That is all!"
And for that she was deeply ashamed. She deserved a thousand lashes as a minimum for that. Even death if her Lord so granted.
"Ah, so it's not two lovers having a passionate time then ~su. Such a shame," tsked Lupusregina with a disappointed frown, her signature jovial attitude returning.
Fiore went beet-red.
"N-no! Of course not," she stammered. There was no way her Lord would like her. Right? She was a maid! Right? Right?!
Narberal grimaced.
"Now look at what you've done sister."
The wolf-maid shrugged.
"What? I can't help it. Imagine how scandalous and romantic it would be though, ~su? A forbidden romance between a lowly maid and a Supreme Being. Ah, how thrilling!" She trembled with giddiness at the mere thought.
Solution snorted.
"Is it really forbidden? Lord Rusted is a Supreme Being. He decides what is forbidden and what is not."
"Ah, true," conceded the red-head thoughtfully.
Fiore shook her head.
Such thoughts were impure, and not at all appropriate.
"Forgive me! I must return to my duties!" she bowed and shouted before nearly running away with her cleaning implements.
Before she could, however, Narberal's hand caught her.
"What happened?" she demanded. It was both an order, and genuine concern.
Fiore seemed confused, but as Narberal's hand traced down to the fresh cut on her neck, she understood.
"He lunged forward with his sword and cut me," she explained, not at all caring for the wound.
"Actually, would it be alright if I asked you to heal it, Miss Beta? I don't want to make a mess of the floor with my blood!" she panicked. All the hard work would be undone if she just up and bled everywhere!
Lupusregina was on her in an instant.
"Not a problem ~su."
However, before she could heal her, the red-heads tone went sinister.
"Just to be clear, you didn't do anything else untoward to the Lord did you?"
Fiore trembled at the intense combined glares of the three normally super-cool Battle Maids.
"N-no! I swear upon my life!" she insisted.
Solution scrutinised her for a moment longer before nodding.
"She's telling the truth."
Lupusregina instantly began to heal the maid, enveloping her in a green glow as the wound sealed up and vanished, leaving no trace of a mark or blemish.
"Alrighty then," the red-head cheered.
"Sorry for that! We'll let you go now. We still up for lunch later?"
It was shocking how the Pleiades could switch demeanours from calm and friendly to murderously intense just like that.
Fiore wasn't mad or offended. If anything, she admired them for that. To be willing to place Nazarick above their personal feelings was something all should strive for.
Numbly, she shook her head, all too keen to just leave before her shame could swallow her.
The Pleiades were content to let her leave, however, and as she left with haste, Lupusregina couldn't help but chuckle.
"Ah. So lucky."
Narberal scoffed.
"If earning the ire of our Lord is what you consider lucky, then you need to have your head investigated sister."
It was all in good nature, and Lupus took it in stride, sticking her tongue out cheekily as they opened the door to the room containing their Lord.
Lord Rusted shifted his head up in their direction, and instantly the maids all felt a shiver run down their spines.
"Not to be rude, but I thought I had made it clear I was not to be interrupted."
Solution bowed immediately, and her two sisters followed suite.
"Apologies, Lord Rusted. But Lord Demiurge has requested your presence. He has news from the Hanzos you had sent out."
That got his attention, and so he set the papers down carefully on the table. His armour groaned as he stood up and strode over to the bowing maids.
"Well, lead the way," he said.
Jaune sat down at his desk, Sebas behind him on his right, and Demiurge behind his left shoulder.
An angel on his right shoulder, and a literal devil on his left.
Oh who was he kidding, they were all devils.
In his hands, he awkwardly fumbled over with a mirror of remote viewing.
How was he even supposed to use this thing?
When in doubt, just shake it. So he did just that, and instantly, the mirror began to reveal an aerial view of the land.
Grassy hills with various shrubs and foliage scattered the uneven terrain, and clusters of trees sprouted from the ground in dense pockets.
It took a bit work and fumbling around, of which the two Guardians were ever patient and silent, but once he was capable of using the mirror, he zoomed out. A more distant view of the land below could be seen, and with a bit searching, he finally found the burnt remains of the village he had visited earlier.
The bodies were no longer present, having been removed under Sebas' orders to be disposed of more carefully in line with his master's wishes.
Cremation, burial. It mattered not. All Jaune cared about was the dead would at least see peace. He wasn't superstitious. Then again, he was supposed to be long dead and had seen many things that shaken his core beliefs.
Hopefully they would get the eternal rest and peace they deserved.
On to more pressing matters, with the guidance of Sebas, he changed the view to the Hanzos dispatched to follow the trail.
They had caught up to the mysterious horsemen and were simply observing the small battlegroup as they rested.
The first thing of note was the uniform armour suits they all wore. These weren't random raiders Jaune quickly realised, taking note of the banner they bore.
These were organised troops of some sort.
Oddly enough, they didn't have conventional armaments, bearing only stock medieval weapons. Shields, swords, pikes and bows. There were no signs of firearms, or any other modern technological equipment.
Perhaps they are mere bandits. He pondered. However, this was a different world. Perhaps technology was still at a more primitive state. Or, perhaps it did exist, but only with other factions or groups.
"Who are these people," Jaune asked, observing the soldiers, all human and helmetless as they lazily dismantled their camp in no real rush. There were over fifty soldiers.
Demiurge answered.
"Humans that seem to belong to one of several factions, though which one we are yet to ascertain. They have been tight-lipped about who they serve, and their mission. Of course, if you would permit me to capture them, we could find out for you quite quickly."
Jaune pursed his lips as Demiurge grinned, all teeth.
"That won't be necessary at this point. For now, we shall observe them. Are there any other settlements nearby?"
Sebas nodded his head.
"There is another settlement many miles away north of their encampment, which seems to match their course. A human settlement. One which should take only a handful of hours for them to reach if their mounts are not magical or enchanted."
Right. Because magic and enchantments were a thing now.
He shook his head slowly.
"Keep me appraised of their situation. Let me know if they encounter anyone or anything immediately."
"Of course, Lord Rusted," bowed Sebas.
With that, he switched views on the mirror and began to search around the nearby plains. Demiurge helped him pinpoint where exactly they were based, and from there he got a good view of Nazarick. Specifically, the giant decrepit mausoleum sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of nowhere.
He frowned. If civilisation existed, then it was likely there were already existing maps of the surrounding lands and territories. Land which Nazrick had suddenly appeared in. This was not good.
"Nazarick is a little exposed to the outside world," he observed.
Demiurge nodded.
"Physically, yes. However, we have placed significant wards up to hide out presence form the outside world. Unless someone were to randomly stumble across and enter these wards, our presence is unnoticed. Of course," he assuaged, seeing the way Lord Rusted's helmet shifted to face him, "this is only a temporary measure until something more permanent can be arranged."
He hummed thoughtfully.
"These wards. They're magic in nature?"
"Of course," purred Demiurge.
"Tier nine and above spells and enchantments were used to ensure we remain undetected."
"And what are the odds of these wards being detected by magical means then?" Jaune pressed.
Demiurge smiled. He had already anticipated such a question.
"Anti-scrying wards have also been erected, as well as spells to mask the presence of our magic utilised. Anyone or anything untoward attempting to spy on us using or searching for magical means will be sorely disappointed, my Lord."
Jaune nodded thoughtfully. He needed to invest some time into researching all of these spells and enchantments used.
He was about to question it more, but figured he would hold off for now until he knew more.
Glancing back at the mirror, he decided to continue searching around.
For the next ten minutes, that's all he did. Every now and then, he would find a piece of wildlife on the plains. A rabbit, a deer, or some small rodent. Nothing substantial or crazy, however.
Until, as the mirror scrolled by the edge of the forest to the north, he came across the sight of several armoured warriors, dressed in attire different to the raiding army, battling a group of strange creatures.
He zoomed in.
The creatures were humanoid in appearance, and all varied in size.
Some were large and orange, easily dwarfing even the largest of men. Others were small and green. Above all, they were sentient. They wielded crude weapons such as bone knives and wooden clubs.
The armoured warriors, however, were much more refined. Dressed in silver and grey armour and cloaks. An interesting bucket for a helmet that seemed quite ugly as far as he was concerned anyways.
But that wasn't what drew his attention. No, it was the fact that these uniformed warriors were slaughtering these strange beasts that outnumbered them. And they were winning.
Not just with their swords, but with magic.
Fire and lightning arcs obliterated the strange mutant-like creatures, and even though the mirror was silent, he could vividly imagine the battlefield roaring with the screams of the dying beasts.
"What are these creatures again, Demiurge?" he asked.
"Ah. I would speculate humans combatting what appears to be a combined force of trolls, ogres and goblins. A paltry display at best."
Jaune wasn't so sure, however.
The final creature, a fierce ogre, was viciously decapitated in an explosion of gore by one of the humans. A tall, imposing man in a grey cloak with short-cut blond hair and a vicious scar on his left cheek.
If these warriors were against these monsters, then perhaps it might be worth looking into. They could even be potential allies.
It would require further investigation, but for now, Jaune was content to be patient. There were bigger concerns at hand right now. Namely, it was time to start learning more about the denizens of Nazarick, and how this whole Tier-based spell system worked. Truly, there was never a dull moment.
Nigun wiped the sweat off of his brow. His men of the Sunlight Scripture put away their weapons and ended their spells.
In their attempts to gain a tempo on reaching Gazef, they had decided to skirt the Great Forest of Tob. Of course, such a route came with its own perils, and the Sunlight Scripture had the annoyance of having to deal with a congregation of trolls, ogres and globlins that dwarfed their task force by five times. Of course, the Scriptures were not pushovers.
They might not have been as strong as the Black Scripture, but they certainly weren't weak by any stretch.
Their casters and warriors made quick work of the foul beasts, and within ten minutes, all that was left was a trail of corpses as they scythed through.
However, they were only human. Such a battle did leave some of the weaker members of the unit a bit fatigued, especially after casting consecutive spells like they did. Coupled with the days of non-stop riding, and some of the men were getting tired.
"Tell the men they have ten minutes to rest," relented Nigun to his subordinates.
It wasn't ideal for them, but he wanted to waste no time in reaching Gazef. Time was on his side, of course, but the quicker this was done, the more quickly he could grow his reputation and status.
He grinned wickedly.
Even now, the diversionary task forces would be luring the honourable Warrior-Captain out as they ransacked the villages in the south.
If Bellius did his job, he might even see to having him promoted.
His visions of the future were pushed aside however as he assessed the situation before him.
Everything was going to plan, yet why did something feel uncertain?
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
It was like he was being watched.
Looking around revealed nothing except his men and the forest, but anyone watching would have been visibly cowed and nervous about going up against him and his men now.
No, this was something else.
And yet, for the life of him, he couldn't place it.
It didn't matter now. He shrugged his suspicions off. The feeling was gone, and his men were victorious. Soon, the vaunted Warrior-Captain of Re-Estize would be dead.
A tragedy, he darkly chuckled….
Not too sure about this chapter. Not sure if it's the dialogue, or if it's the pacing, but I feel this could have been better. However, I spent enough time writing and re-writing this chapter as it was I feel its better to rip the bandaid off if only to at least progress it.
I don't want this story to be too angsty with Jaune being a complete mood, it's just he's still in this 24 hour period of another lifechanging event and had no rest. He's had his first nap, so that should at least straighten his head, barring the PTSD nightmares of course.
Plus, I don't want to strictly follow canon, and some of you might see what I am leaning towards for a direction. Next chapter will hopefully be out within a week or two. Can't make any promises, but there will be an eventual update!
Any concerns or thoughts, just dump and I'll read through them.
See you next chapter!