Chapter 18: Chapter 15 – Gehenna Part 1

Shalltear could hardly contain her excitement.

This was it! Her first chance since that debacle to prove herself to Lord Ainz!

There were still many hours before she had to make her 'debut', over a day in fact, but she just couldn't get the giddy nervous energy out of her system.

Demiurge had stopped by the day prior and told her of her involvement in Lord Ainz's plans. She was certain he was omitting things, probably because he thought the sheer breadth and intricacies of their Lord's plans would go over her head.

But what he did explain to her filled her with nothing but happiness and the smallest hint of anxiety. To not only be given a chance to redeem herself from her actions but to do so at the side of the single most beautiful woman in all of Nazarick? It was almost like a dream come true!

But it was that very same situation that made her anxious.

If she failed… if she let down Citrinitas's words of encouragement… if she let her Lord's mercy be in vain…

Demiurge claimed her role was 'simple' and that she merely needed to follow Citrinitas's lead if she was confused. He even went so far as to leave a script of the events he and Citrinitas had concocted to facilitate Lord Ainz's designs.

At first, she tried to memorize her whole part verbatim, to ingrain each and every word on the papers into her memory. But… ughh, it was just so long and had some words she didn't even know the meaning of! She tried for hours to get through it, forcing herself through line after dull line, but to no avail. And so it laid on her desk, seven of seventy pages actually read.

Shalltear was tempted to just have her brides read it and give her the summary of all the important bits, maybe even note them down for her as a sort of cheat sheet. But not only was this too important of a task to delegate to anyone, she doubted any of her brides were actually smart enough for the task.

Case and point: they couldn't even properly pick out what the script described as 'adventuring' clothes.

"No, the colors are too bright," Shalltear dismissed the bright red dress, tossing the article onto the venerable mountain of clothes already present.

The next bride followed, pressing the dull blue dress to her pale frame.

"No, these colors are too muted," snatching the dress from her hand Shalltear tossed it with the rest.

Lord Peroroncino left no shortage of outfits for her to wear. From conservative to risqué, flashy to subdued, and everything in-between. With each and every one of them being the pinnacle of their respective styles, as expected of her brilliant creator.

And still…

The next bride stepped forward with yet another dress. Again, she rejected it.

The process had been going on for hours. While each and every outfit was perfect, there was always the possibility that the outfit she chose wouldn't be what Lord Ainz had envisioned for her role in his plan. And what if that one, small, choice on her part caused his plan to falter? That she was such a screw up, that even plans envisioned by a Supreme One were susceptible to her failures, was insane as the thought was.

"No, too revealing," rolling her eyes she tossed the dress of literal straps and buckles aside.

While hardly against wearing clothes that showed vast tracts of skin or emphasized her creator-given figure, she drew the line at wearing anything that might make disgusting humans lustfully gaze at her like a piece of meat. While she could hardly say it was unexpected, since who wouldn't be dumbstruck by a being handcrafted by one of the Supreme Beings, there was only one man who was allowed to look at her like that. She'd carve out the eyes and castrate anyone else who did so.

…well, that's not entirely true.

On their knees, properly broken in, any human would be free to salivate at the sight of her form. As is proper for a toy.

And of course, her Lord fully intended for her to seduce maidens, be they pure, nubile, or anything in between, on sex appeal alone. Their innocent eyes being opened to a delicious slice of forbidden fruit was also anticipated, as was their inevitable fall into her clutches where she warps and twists them to her desires.

Speaking of Supreme Beings… if Lord Ainz was successful in finding the other Supreme Beings she would hardly oppose any of them looking at her as such.

And if Lord Peroroncino were here… Oh, to be dragged into her creator's bed by the hair, her clothes torn from her form by his strong hands, as he proceeded to use her in every way he saw fit…

Strangely, the only Supreme Being she didn't feel such an urge towards was Lady Bukubukuchagama. When Shalltear thinks back to her Lord's sister, she felt… nothing. 'Nothing' in the sense she didn't feel the urge to present herself fully to her Ladyship, to be ravished in the ways she envisioned the other Supreme Beings would. She acknowledged her aesthetic beauty, her power, her intellect, and her authority over herself, but she didn't feel aroused by her.

There is always the possibility that Lord Peroroncino crafted her to not find slimes enticing, but then why did Shalltear find the image of Solution forced between her legs gratifying?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a new dress being pressed up against her.

"No, not revealing enough," she tsked, tossing the outfit to the side. She hardly wanted an outfit that wasn't flattering to her figure!

Still, at this point she worried she'd never find what she was looking for.

Agh! What kind of failure can't even wear the right clothes!?

"No, too- what?! Are you stupid! You already showed me this one!" She threw the black dress at the bride.

"I'm sorry Lady Shall-ugh!" The bride found herself thrown across the room, slamming into the wall.

The other brides paid no mind to their 'sister' as they resumed showing Shalltear her wardrobe.

Everything had to be perfect. Shalltear could accept nothing less. If she let down Citrinitas… if she failed Lord Ainz again… If she messed up again, if she somehow failed her duties again….

Feeling cool fabric touch her skin, Shalltear turned to the mirror to examine herself. The bride in question shivering as her mistress lingered on the outfit.

"…better," Shalltear finally noted. She shoved the bride aside and took the dress from her, walking closer to the mirror. Twirling herself about to see how it would look at different angles, she hummed in approval. "Much better."

---
---

God, do I wish I could get drunk.

Ah, the woes of one with maximum poison resistance. At least the stuff tasted good enough. Though I have to wonder what some of these people must be thinking with someone who looks like me almost chugging down wine by the bottle at the rate I was going. I was already getting some looks from the staff and was even asked if I wanted water instead of wine at least twice now.

I understand the concern, still annoying though.

Soft music, weak drinks (for me anyway), stuffy clothes, everyone giving each other smiles when they're actually trying to politic around one another, I could say I thoroughly dislike this whole thing.

Maybe for some being in the grand palace of the Emperor himself during his yearly 'let's go to war with Re-Estize party' might be fun. For me it was annoying.

Then again, as far as medieval galas went, I didn't really have a frame of reference to work with. I went to a renaissance festival a few times with some friends. They were fun enough, but the only thing I really remember about the experience was seeing some guy selling remakes of well-known paintings with the twist being the people in the paintings were replaced with cats.

Some of the best money I have ever spent…

Still, this was all just too stuffy for my liking.

And then there was all this political bullshit going on.

And all the stuff they talked: the coming annual war with Re-Estize, inflation, a string of attacks on towns within the Kingdom that left no survivors, the latest news from the Dragon Kingdom holding off the beastmen, the slave trade, it was all just so pointless.

Well, actually, that bit about the Dragon Kingdom was interesting. Interesting in the way it gave me a testing ground for me and my creations to have some guilt free destruction. Hard to feel bad for an invading horde of beastmen when they're sole goal is to conquer and eat the people of the kingdom they are attacking.

Why did I even come here again? Get all dressed up (by casting a spell to just make my clothes look like what I normally wear around the Tomb because I am too lazy) and interacting with people I didn't care about?

Beyond it being a golden opportunity to actually meet Jircniv in the flesh and get my foot in the door, I really needed a change in scenery.

For the past while I've been doing almost nothing but producing philosopher stones en masse. Unlike simply transmuting metals from one type to another these stones had a fixed 'cook' time. Let's say, if I made one stone, it takes three hours. If I make two stones, it takes six hours. If I make three it takes nine, and so on. No matter how many I made in bulk, even if I started them at different times and across the damn room, they always seemed to 'cook' in sync with one another.

Not to mention how much prismatic ores they took up. The damn things are like bottomless pits for alchemy. I've almost exhausted my store of ores just from the stones I've made already.

I'll just chalk that up to game mechanics bleeding over into this world.

But now that I had my stones, I wanted to try and make my own NPCs. Not enchanting suits of armor to life, but flesh and blood NPCs. In short, I wanted to make homunculi. But instead of wasting all my stones making a single high-level NPC, I decided to just try out making something a bit simpler and lower-leveled.

Hehehe… 'Simple'…

My first foray into creating an actual homunculus went… poorly. Though I will say that I'm ninety-nine-point nine percent sure the fault is on my end.

The… thing… I made was some sort of horrific creature. It was hairless, emaciated, atrophied, had a ken doll physiology, whose fingers and toes all fused together, and covered in smooth grey skin. Covered being very literal in this case. It had no mouth, no eyes, no ears, no nose, just smooth featureless skin across the entire body.

The very moment the 'creation' process was done, it dropped to the floor writhing in pain. Its hands, or skin mittens, dug along the front of its face to 'make' an opening to breath. At least, I think it was. Hard to tell when it only made whines and grunting sounds.

The whole scene was disturbing on so many levels.

I did not let it… suffer long.

Sadly, the next homunculus suffered a similar fate.

As did the one after that.

And the one after that.

It wasn't until the seventh homunculus that I figured out what I was doing wrong.

Their bodies were akin to basic 3D renders in a character creator. Going with gaming terminology, I was creating characters without editing their base appearance. Hence the small string of abominations that I made.

The day before I tested my theory, I tried to 'imagine' what the homunculus looked like before I started the 'creation' process.

It worked… sort of.

Okay, sure he was an emaciated skeleton with corpse-like skin, but at least he had eyes, ears, fingers, toes, and a nose!

Still no mouth though. Thankfully, with a ring of sustenance, that problem worked itself out.

The homunculus, who I named Gary, seemed conscious at least. He reacted to outside stimuli, knew how to read and write, though not any of the languages native to the New World, and seemed capable of magic. A good thing, since on his creation I 'imagined' him to be a mage, so I guess that solves the 'how do I assign my creations classes' question.

But there were some odd behaviors he did that let on something might be wrong.

Foremost amongst them, he seemed to HATE Eva and Mya. He glares at them whenever they enter a room like he wants to kill them, he shoves them aside whenever he walks past them, I even once caught him pushing something off a table just because he knew they would have to pick it up.

By contrast, he seemed to really like the various golems around the place. Always looking at his own reflection in their armor. Maybe he feels a sense of kinship with the golems since they were made by me? Or maybe as a homunculus he-

"Lady Lilith?"

I jumped a bit in surprise, turning around I saw it was Leinas all armored up, her hair pulled back to show off her unblemished face.

"Oh, hello sir… I mean madame… Miss Rockbruise… I mean," I sighed, "Look, sorry, but I don't know the proper way female knights are addressed here."

"You can simply call me Leinas, ma'am," oh well, that made things easier. "I actually came to inform you that His Majesty wishes to speak with you."

"What… now?" wasn't this a little sudden?

"At your earliest convenience, but preferably this evening," the knight clarified.

"I didn't think emperors took an interest in random travelers," except when certain court wizards aren't involved, I guess.

"They do when said traveler takes an interest in one of his personal guards, not to mention getting the attention of Master Paradyne himself."

"I suppose," yeah, that did make sense. "Speaking of which, where is he? I was hoping to continue the conversation we were having last time we spoke." And so I could show him the meaning of true 'power'.

"At the ministry still," Leinas shook her head, "he doesn't come to these sorts of functions, he says they are a waste of time."

"I-" before I comment, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. A slight distortion of air just along the ceiling. Light warping ever so slightly to make out an almost spectral shape. Many legs, pincers, and bug-like eyes.

Staring right at me. Why was a Eight-Edge Assassin here?

"Excuse me, Leinas, but I need some fresh air," I quickly spout off an excuse to the knight who doesn't press me on why I seemingly decided to walk away in the middle of a conversation.

I really needed to get outside for some fresh air.

All the while feeling the creature follow me out.

---
---

For thirteen days the Fourteenth had stood vigilant over the Master's domain.

Silent as the grave, it watched while the masses of inferior beings went about their days aimlessly. Complaining about irrelevant topics. Parise undeserving feats. It was all quite boring.

But, in a strange way, the Fourteenth pitied those beings. Their histories were a litany of blood shed over differing ideology, visions for the future, theology, and all manner of aspects that causes one to feel distress. They live and die, not knowing if any of it mattered.

They must live such hollow, empty, lives.

It was a wholly alien concept to the Fourteenth, its life was simple by comparison. All was to labor in perpetuity for the Master's glory. Any other state of existence was irrelevant or antithetical.

Free will was a concept neither it, nor any that came before or would come after, would ever comprehend. It didn't even know how it knew the phrase or the implications. The Fourteenth simply knew upon its inception the phrase, its meaning, and importantly, its folly.

After all, what was the point in struggling to find oneself when the Master was there to guide it down the correct path? Indeed, its very creation was deliberately done so it may best serve the Master's will.

The Master gave it life, so it may labor in perpetuity for the Master's will.

The Master gave it consciousness, so it may understand the Master's wisdom and be humbled eternally by the experience.

The Master gave it sight, so it may see the world the Master sees fit to rule.

The Master gave it a body, limbs, and the capacity to use them, so it may execute the Master's commands.

Everything had a purpose in the Master's service. What it was not given, speech for instance, was simply unnecessary for the Fourteenth to have in the execution of its perpetual servitude.

Yet, the very concept of duty brought with it another issue: the fleshy ones. The organic servile copies the Master saw fit to allow employ. Not the new ones, the old ones, the ones who were here before the Fourteenth was created. For all its Maker given intellect, the Fourteenth failed to understand why the Master tolerated such creatures the right to exist.

For they knew the brilliance of the Master, saw the Master's work first hand, yet claimed allegiance to another!? To some… lich from the depths of some monstrous crypt?!

Other lesser beings can be forgiven for their idolatry as their ignorance was born of the Master's own design to not reveal their true power. It is expected of them to lack due reverence to the Master until such time as the Master sees fit to allow them to prostrate themselves before the Master's brilliance.

Yet to imply the Master is in any way shape or form inferior to another?!

Truly, the Master's restraint was beyond comparison. Since the first time those serviles spoke such… heresy the Fourteenth held back the urge to crush their frail frames beneath the weight of its gauntlets, to bisect them with a single stroke of its blade, or bash them against the walls themselves. A feeling it knew all others given sentience by the Master's will felt with equally fiery passion.

Maker knows how often the younger ones almost acted on such impulses.

But perhaps, that's what the new ones were for? Though only one of them still draws breath, a result of how fragile flesh is to mold into form compared to scarletite, it showed the proper reverence and submission one should display to the Master.

Maybe the older ones were a test? To measure if the Master's creations could exercise self-restraint? And the Master was not so shallow or vain to take every slight as a grievous insult from such inferior beings. It supposed there was no actual harm-

The Fourteenth cased its musings when it heard a twig crack beneath an unseen weight.

For the first time in its life, without the Master's explicit consent, the Fourteenth moved from its designated position to investigate. Each step was laborious and cautious.

Without warning, a small dagger flew into the slit of its head's visor. The rattling sound of metal on metal within the helm was enough to disorientate it for a moment. The Fourteenth simply removed the offending edged weapon and looked to its most probable origin point; a small collection of bushes by the main road.

Figures emerged into the light as the Fourteenth approached.

"I told you it wouldn't work," one of the intruders told another. "That guy even said they were golems, not people."

"Eh… no harm in trying," the other replied, nodding to a third intruder who readied a spell.

Seeing the magic circle, the Fourteenth dug its feet into the ground and braced for the impact. The fireball's impact forced the golem back several paces, the earth kicked up as it was pushed back, but there was no damage; superficial or otherwise.

"The hell is that thing made of?" it heard the lanky intruder mutter.

"Doesn't matter, we'll just have to smash it apart piece by piece," the second intruder 'reasoned', hefting a massive warhammer to the ready. "There's a dozen of us, and only a couple of these things. I think we can take them."

Three intruders charged the Fourteenth. The Fourteenth raised its shield to block the blows, knowing to do so despite this being its first ever combat engagement. Metal and magic came down upon its carmine sides, their blows causing no damage; superficial or otherwise.

But in turn, the intruders dodged the Fourteenth's laborious blow, kicking up soil when its blade hit the ground.

An impasse then. They were too fast for it to hit directly, yet too weak to injure it in turn.

Several more swings, catching nothing but air, and it realized it would require aid in dispatching these humans.

From the distance three more figures approached, comrades rather than intruders. Seventh and Tenth of the Eldest followed closely by the Second. The First, oldest of all creations, no doubt knew of this intrusion but saw it as too insignificant to leave the personal dwelling of the Master unguarded.

But as the cretins turned to face its comrades, a bolt of magic struck the ground near them. The new fleshy one emerged beside the other Carmine Knights, the "Gary" as the Master dubbed him. With these new numbers, and the magic provided by the new fleshy one, the battle had swung decisively in their favor.

The old fleshy ones were nowhere to be seen, of course. No, it could see them. Looking out the window, providing neither aid nor support.

Hmmm. So much for their supposed loyalty…

You are reading story Magnum Opus at novel35.com

As battle was joined again, bone breaking against steel, the Fourteenth noticed other groups of humans scurrying across the main road. Each domicile they passed, they breached its entrance and proceeded within. Cries and screams echoed following such intrusion.

Curious, but unimportant. Breaking the assault on the Master's domain was of the highest importance. An investigation would be carried out later by the others to see what skullduggery was occurring, and what may have been attempted upon the Master's property if not for their defense.

A matter for the others. Most likely the other twenty-nine were being roused from the basement and would arrive in due time.

---
---

Outside and away from all the other party goers, with only a couple of knights on patrol and the insect thing not far behind me, I had some space to think.

I slapped my cheeks to get some adrenaline flowing.

Okay, Occam's Razor. What is the simplest reason for it being here?

It's a major political event for the Empire, the Emperor is present, I am here. That would be the simplest explanation. Oversight.

But… that still doesn't explain why it was following me. If it was just to look over the political event or the Emperor, it would still be inside.

Could it be…maybe my lack of being super supportive of Ainz is making them look over my shoulder to make sure I'm loyal? Albedo is super obsessive about others' loyalty, ironic since I'm pretty sure she has a Ainz Ooal Gown banner in her room she steps on every day.

But what-

Hmmm?

There was something in the air, ashy, bitter, and earthy. Smoke? No, the smell was wrong. And nothing looked like it was burning. So, what could be causing this smell?

As I started to think, I heard the tell-tale sound of metal clashing against metal.

Turning around, I quickly figured out what was going on: poison gas. Someone had tossed a gas bomb into the midst of a melee. It was two cream-colored knights against ten 'bandit' looking people, five others on the ground between the knights and attackers.

The knights, turtled up in their armor, weathered a storm of blows without giving any ground. They were saying something to each other but I couldn't understand it beneath the helmets and general sounds of battle.

One of the attackers broke off from her group and closed the distance. This rogue looking woman dodged the labored swing of one knight before jabbing a spindly stiletto looking knife through the gaps in the knight's visor. Two twists of the blade and the knight went limp.

Before his corpse even hit the ground, a shadow appetition of the woman appeared before the other knight and mirrored her movements. While knight blocked the initial knife stabbing motion, the apparition disappearing after missing, the original rouge spun around and penetrated the helmet through the back.

"Well, well, well boys," the rouge commented to herself, using her foot as leverage to dig one of her knives out of the knight's skull. "Looks like we've already found our damsel."

"Hmmm," I look around to see who she could be talking about. Seeing as how I am the only person here not a part of their group, that left only one reasonable conclusion. "What, me?"

"No, one of these damsels," the rogue tapped her foot against the dead knight's armor.

"Jalbadoath wants you alive, but he said we could rough you up if you resisted," the thief wrenched her other knife from the dead man's skull. "So, consider this your warning."

With that one name, everything suddenly clicked into place.

"Of fucking course it's Demiurge," I let out a frustrated groan and rub my forehead. The creature made so much more sense now given this is one of Demiurge's hair-brained schemes. "I needed this, I really needed this like I need a fucking hole in my head…"

"Hmm, what's a Demiurge?" the woman questioned aloud.

"'He' is someone very annoying," I answer the superfluous question, trying to hold in my own growing sense of irritation. "And knowingly sent you all here to die."

"There's always the risk of death in battle, but I think we're doing pretty well for ourselves."

"No, I mean I will kill you all if you don't just back away," I warned them. "Just let me walk away and we can pretend we never saw each other."

"No need to put a brave face on kid."

"I've made this same plea several times now since I've come here and no one… and everyone just ignores it!" I was getting real sick of this constant, 'we'll take our chances bullshit'. "People like you always go 'it's just a little girl, how strong can she be', and it's always right before I pull some Yggdrasil bullshit out of my pocket that just one-shots people."

"How'd you figure that," she still wasn't taking this seriously.

"Your blades won't even scratch my skin, let alone draw blood. I mean, sure, maybe if you had some Yggdrasil items or a high-level, but I don't see anything remarkable about your gear, and if those guys," I point to the fallen knights, "gave you some trouble, there is nothing I need to worry about. But you will die, painfully, if you attack me."

"Um boss… she seems a bit… off?" one of the men said in reaction to my frustrated rant.

"Well you know what they say about crazy and beauty, right?" She shrugged, the men behind her chuckling at her joke. "Besides, if he's just looking for some virgin sacrifice bullshit or whatever, doesn't really matter how sane she is right?"

"So, you're really going to do this," I mean, it can't be argued that I didn't try. Right?

"Course! We've got a bonus to take after all!" Twirling a dagger in her hand, she races towards me, faster than my reaction time will allow a counterattack. Not that it mattered. The pommel of her dagger hit my temple and nothing happened.

Of course, nothing happened.

Well, besides me finally losing my patience.

"Damn, what the hell is your head made of-"

CRUNCH!

"Boss!"

The lead guy (lady) rag dolled into the ground some distance away after my fist dissolved the front part of her face. No movement, not even twitching. Dead on impact, either from my fist or the stone that stopped her corpse.

Oh, eww! I wringed my hand out in the air when I saw I got lots of her 'head stuff' on my hand. I did my best to keep the little sanguine droplets from getting on my clothes or any other bit of my skin.

"W-What the hell are you?!"

"Annoyed," I frowned, fetching the cloak I used from my battle against the Black Scripture from my item box to wipe the blood off my hand. It was already ruined so no real loss there. "Now are you going to try your luck?"

"You killed Helon your cunt!" one of the men brought his claymore to bare, his comrades following suit with their own weapons. "Fuck Jaldaboath, we're going to carve you up for killing her!"

"Commendable, pointless, and something I'm too busy to deal with right now," I had to give them credit, they sure were determined to commit 'suicide by cop'. "So how about I give you a playmate while daddy makes a call?"

"Call? You're all alone out here, no one to call for help from!"

"Not that kind of call," I held out my hand and summoned my help. "[Summon Specter: Wraith]"

From spectral smoke, the ethereal figure of the wraith emerged.

"Your wish… Master…", the hooded creature looked to me, then to the others arrayed before me.

"Deal with them," I waved in the worker group's general direction. "I have to make a call."

"By your will… Master."

I didn't even pay attention to the sound of flesh being torn and blades hitting nothing but air. Scrounging up a message scroll from my inventory, I used it to form a connection with the demon who's probably the source of my annoyances tonight.

Ring, ring, ring.

Ring, ring, ring.

The scroll doesn't actually 'ring' but it helped pass the time before a 'connection' was made.

Something I didn't have to wait long for.

"Ah Citrinitas, what excellent timing, I was just about to contact you myself," the demon jovially replied over the connection.

"Demiurge, I just got jumped by people claiming to work for 'Jaldaboath'," I give a sideways look to the workers trying their best to hold off the wraith, with two more bodies then I remembered laying on the ground. "Actually, why are there people in Arwintar working for you?"

"Ah yes, that," he mulled over something to himself. "To be perfectly honest, I'm surprised at the speed in which they reached you. They only left for their mission an hour ago. Either I grossly underestimated their abilities, or the security of the palace is even lower than my lowliest expectations."

"So, you sent people to… attack me?"

"We both know those lesser beings aren't a genuine threat to you."

"I'm still on the 'Jalbadoath sent people after me' bit they're spinning,"

"Well, I might have… improvised a bit given the accelerated timetable we have to work with, but Lord Ainz planned for such a thing so I feel confident in our previous setup."

"…what?" Oh god please don't tell me this is a 'Sasuaga Ainz-sama' moment.

And wait…'Our setup'.

"Please let me die! Let me die! Let me- ahhhhhh!"

Shut up, I'm on the phone! The only thing that kept me from yelling that was the fact that anything I said would probably get heard on Demiurge's side.

"So, you improvised… my setup," ughh, even saying that felt weird.

"…I want to clarify that I didn't change much," he defended himself. "Yes I have taken some liberties in particulars, but I have not overly changed you overall plots. Our plan will proceed as expected, given our accelerated timetable, and some necessary work arounds. As expected, the explosives are already being set."

"What?" what the fuck did any of that even mean?! "Demiurge, what did you-"

Before I could question the demon any further, I heard of a series of explosions off in the distance. One after another, seconds apart, plumes of smoke slowly rising into the sky as fires started to emerge across the cityscape.

Then another explosion.

And another.

And another….

"What was that?"

"Oh, that would be the First Phase beginning," he explained, tsking to himself on the other end. "It should have started five minutes ago, but what can you expect from humans?"

"Demiruge how many… explosives did you set?"

"Me? None. The throngs of workers under my command? Twenty-seven. All low-grade explosives of course, we're trying to sow chaos not destroy the city of course."

Another explosion…

"Workers?"

"Yes, a force of workers, aided by summoned demons, a force whose sole purpose is to spread chaos and panic across the city!" I could almost feel some overexaggerated arm gestures just from his tone of voice. "Looting, pillaging, burning, and all manner of unpleasantness will soon engulf the jewel of the Empire! Again, I would have preferred to have more workers for the attack since it blended spectacularly with our designs, but as said before I improvised somewhat."

"Demiurge…" what the hell are you planning!?!?

Another explosion…

"But look at me ramble, chatting away as if you don't have places to be. Good luck on your performance with Emperor, Citrinitas. Let's speak later after the third phase has properly begun," with that, the demon cut off the connection on his end.

I stood in silence, only the pained groans of the dying and the explosions rocking the area.

My mind needed a moment to process everything.

Wait, didn't Demiurge mention something about the Emperor? I doubt Demiurge is going to kill the guy, but what about all the other people in the palace? People who are definitely going to die if I don't step in and help?

Damn it all.

"Wraith," the specter turns to me, "follow."

Ghost in hand, I race back to the gala.

---
---

Demiruge sighed as another explosion rocked the city. He had been dreading that call from Citrinitas, half-expecting the homunculus to kick up a storm about the alterations to scheming and plotting. But thankfully she seemed quite understanding in a way he knew her sister wouldn't have been.

Citrinitas's machinations, while brilliant, were somewhat blunt. Her plans relied upon simple brute force and point to point plotting to succeed. Useful? Absolutely. Clever, without a doubt.

But perhaps it was just his inner thespian, but her work was also… stale. Very little in the way of theatrics and minimal amount of spectacle. Too straight forward. Too, dare he say, boring.

Maybe it was just their differing ways of approaching problems. Citrinitas was an alchemist, he was an archfiend. Naturally, these two states of being would have vastly different thought processes.

Still, everything was ready.

The stage was set.

The pieces and actors were ready to take their places.

Speaking of actors and pieces…..

"Is it everything you wanted?" It was the first time in hours the human Morrice spoke to Demiurge. While the demon perched himself atop the roof to watch the devastation first hand with his 'maid' by his side. His location left only the balcony as a means for the human to speak with him.

"It's not nearly enough," Demiurge replied, not looking away as more explosions rocked the city.

"I'm… sorry to hear that," he decided not to call the human out on that lie.

"Still, everything still went according to plan." His reply was a mixture of acting and truth. While he sorely wished to see more devastation, that would be counterproductive to Lord Ainz's plans.

"I- I see," he really didn't. "So… what now?"

"We move onto the next phase," Demiurge gestured for a masked Lupusregina Beta to approach him. "Do you remember the plan?" the 'demon' maid nodded. "Then go join the assault on the palace."

With another nod, the maid left from rooftop to rooftop towards the palace where the Second Phase was due to take place. He hoped Citrintias was able to put on a good show for the lesser beings present.

"But the infiltration group-"

"Has already failed," he cut the man off. "She had her guard up, she expected something even if she didn't know what it was, they were cut down to the last."

"I… Understand the feeling of paranoia," the man replied.

"Hardly paranoia if you are being targeted, no?" he was certain the human could see his grin even through the mask he wore.

"I- very good then," The human nodded and mumbled to himself.

The human Morrice continued to fidget in the silence as the two watched fires light up across the city.

Demiurge enjoyed the fear that radiated off the human. The tacit understanding of his own powerlessness in the face of unspeakable evil while simultaneously aware of his own involvement in facilitating said acts. And thinking of his own imminent mortality at Demiurge's hands once this business in Arwintar was done.

An incorrect assumption, since he would survive. Not that he was going to correct the human's assumption. The terror it conjured in him was too tantalizing.

Of course, his survival was predicated on being processed along with the rest of the Eight Finger leadership. But after that? He had that perfectly predictable mixture of competence and above average intellect. Maybe he'll even ask Albedo to have him installed as the new leader of the Eight Fingers.

"Is there something else you wanted to say?" his question made the human fidget.

"Yes… um" the human cleared his throat. "About that other matter you wanted me to look into? I was able to get word from a person in the Re-Estize branch that something remarkably similar to the figurine you mentioned was logged in their warehouse."

"Ah yes, that, '' Demiurge knew the answer to the question he posed but he still had to go through the motions for the sake of Lord Ainz's plan.

"Now if you give me a couple of weeks I can have it transferred over here for-"

"That won't be necessary," Demiurge cut the human off. "It's simply enough to know where it is. I shall retrieve it myself shortly."

Of course, Demiurge knew where the statue was. He personally ordered its placement after all. The whole exchange was done for the sole purpose of establishing a 'paper trail' for the various nations to examine for a shared link between the events in Arwintar and Re-Estize.

Another explosion rocked through the city.

Oh yes, everything was going exactly as Lord Ainz envisioned.