Ainz had been through a lot of things recently, but this current one took the cake!
Ainz’s head was still spinning from all the information Demiurge gave him. Specifically, about how this attack on Re-Estize was something HE told him to do!
For his part, he’d just been minding his own business, doing quests for some noble, when he saw all the commotion and thought it would be a great way to boost Momon’s reputation by saving the day. He only realized it was Demiurge causing it after he leapt in.
Umu. He has no idea how Demiurge could even think this was all some plan!?
Add to that the fact the devil wanted to use one of Ulbert’s items to summon even more demons, and Ainz could easily say this situation was getting out of hand very fast.
Given he had no idea what the hell was going on, he decided to say the only thing that would get him out of this mess the fastest.
“I see, well done Demiurge,” going on to ask the demon to explain the plan to him, just to know that Demiurge knew what to do.
Hearing the whole thing out, he couldn’t deny the logic in Demiurge’s words.
Sure, back when he was Suzuki he absolutely would have been aghast and enraged by the demon’s callous disregard for human life. Yet the lich he was now couldn’t help but marvel at how ingenious it was. This event, and the showdown that followed, could catapult Momon to international fame. One man against a demon army, certainly a feat few could boast of.
That said, there were a few things he ordered changed from ‘his’ original plan.
Chief amongst them, changing out the magic item [Armageddon Evil], the whole point of the ‘Demon Emperor Jaldaboath’s’ attack on the Kingdom with its less destructive prototype.
Why Ulbert gave the ‘finished’ product to Demiurge he’ll never know.
With his input done, ‘his’ plan continued as ‘intended’.
The battle between demons and humans was won by the heroes. Jaldaboath fled before the might of Momon. The city was saved, and with it, the Kingdom as a whole. Accolades and praise rained down on the Dark Hero, his deeds no doubt spread far and wide across all the lands for his heroics.
However, even in victory, there were two outstanding issues he now had to deal with.
The first was that Blue Rose Adventurer: Evileye.
The constant gazes when she thought he wasn’t paying attention to her, her insistence on being by his side for the duration of the battle to save the city, the constant needling and prodding about his deeds. She did her best to be subtle, perhaps even charming in a certain light, but it all put Ainz on edge.
It was clear that the short woman was suspicious of him.
He doesn’t know what he did to have created such suspicion in their short time together, but looking back he supposed it could be any number of things.
His timely arrival to save her from the ‘Demon Emperor’, his and Naberal’s initial reaction to her injuring Entoma, the fact that he allowed Demiurge to withdraw when the fighting was over. Any of those things could have tipped her off. Or perhaps it’s something else entirely.
In any other situation, Ainz would just get rid of the woman as quickly as possible.
But he could hardly do that since she was such a well-known adventurer. There would be questions if she suddenly turned up dead. How did she die, what, or who, killed her, what could she have done that caused someone so powerful to go after her.
Maybe have one of the Guardians kill her?
No, if such an important figure like her suddenly died, it would raise even more questions about why. What did she do, or know, to make her a target.
For the moment, Evileye had him in check. The degree in which she was aware of this was unknown to him.
But he would have to be very careful around her in the future.
More interestingly, was her ability to fight Entoma to an effective standstill. If not defeat the Pleiades outright.
That sort of strength, in the New World at least, was not normal.
These two issues together mixed to form quite the nasty cocktail for him to deal with.
And then there was the other issue.
During the battle, one of the humans distinguished himself as head and shoulder beyond any other.
A young man, with bright red eyes and black hair. An unusual hair tone given the reactions Naberal has received from her appearance on their journeys. A ‘bishounen’ as some of his Guildmates would have called him.
During the climax of the fight, the man rushed into the fray and fought alongside Evileye against the Pleiades.
The issue wasn’t that he joined the battle, it was that he managed to hold his own against Solution. Not in the sense of the play fighting the others were engaging with, but genuinely holding his ground. He matched her blow for blow, even receiving damage that ought to have shattered any native of this world.
At the height of this exchange, the maid let out a howl that drew the eyes of everyone. Even he and Demiurge momentarily ceased their ‘battle’ to see what was happening.
The man’s spear sliced through her mask and cut into her face. In the same motion, as Solution’s face shifted into pure rage, he whirled about and brought the bladed edge of his spear down on Solution’s neck, tearing the head apart from the body.
This was hardly fatal for a slime. Solution’s body was too decentralized for a simple decapitation, which was little more than separating one glob of slime from the main body, to be anything more than an inconvenience. But the fact this human had the strength to separate a potion of Solution from herself was a shocking sight.
Almost as shocking as him successfully holding off both Lupergina and Yuri Alpha when the pair rushed in to aid their sister.
On one hand, there was a cold rage boiled inside Ainz that made him almost break character and snap the man’s neck for daring to harm one of his guildmate’s NPCs, superficial as it was.
But after his Emotional Suppressor took effect, a more
Clearly, whatever happened between this man and Solution was not something planned in advance by Demiurge if the other Pleiades reaction was any indication.
And that raised a whole host of questions.
Just how was she injured in the first place? Damage mitigation should have nullified any real damage.
She was level fifty-seven and nothing he had seen in the New World so far was higher than the mid-forties at the most. High
Was he also level fifty-seven?
No, he had to be higher to also hold off Lupusregina who was level fifty-nine.
Maybe level sixty?
Higher than that?
Was it just his equipment that pushed his stats that high or was he just naturally that high level? Or what about his weapon? While it lacked the flair of the Blue Rose’s leader’s sword, that touted Sword of Darkness, the spear was clearly the superior of the two in Ainz’s eye.
“Ser Momon,” a voice dragged him out of his thoughts. Speak of the devil, it was the bishounen. The man held out his hand, smiling. “I just wanted to thank you for your part in defeating the Demon Emperor. The people of Re-Estize owe you a debt they can scarcely imagine.”
Oh this is awkward.
“Just knowing that they are safe is reward enough,” Ainz replied, cringing internally when he realized he just quoted some manga he read as a kid.
But he buried that feeling at the sight of the man’s spear. The one capable of harming Solution. Curious, he used [Appraisal] to see what the stats on the weapon actually were.
[Drill Spear]. Mundane in appearance, but with stats far higher than anything he’s seen wielded in this world so far. A far cry from the flamboyant Sword of Darkness Blue Rose’s leader used.
But stats wise, the two were nothing alike.
In Yggdrasil terms, the woman’s weapon was some level thirty dungeon boss loot, the kind that some high level players may use the appearance of to match what their character is wearing in the late game. By contrast, that guy’s spear was some level sixty generic mob drop that would probably be sold as junk to some NPC or broken down for raw crafting materials.
The former had more flair and was far more aesthetically pleasing to be sure, but the spear was simply more powerful in every way that mattered.
Now that he thought about it, this was hardly surprising. It stands to reason that if something as powerful as a World Item can end up in the New World, then its other items could have found their way here as well.
But that still didn’t answer how these things were ending up in the New World in the first place. And why from Yggdrasil of all games? As much as he might dread to admit it, there were plenty of better games than it on the market before the servers shut down. Yet he’s only seen Yggdrasil items and concepts here: like tier magic or that data crystal those Theocracy people used to summon an angel.
“Ser Momon,” a voice dragged him out of his thoughts. The young man was still looking up at him, waiting for some kind of response.
“Um...sorry, I was thinking about something. So, I overheard you saying you were an adventurer?” play it cool. He hoped the man wouldn’t notice the obvious fishing for information.
“I don’t believe I said I was,” he shook his head, “or at least I’m not associated with the Guild. I just help people out in my own way.”
“A worker then?” He heard about those sorts of people from the Adventurers Guild, none of it painted a heroic image of them. Sort of like ‘evil’ Adventurers, though reports from Citrinitas said they were more like freelance workers with a bad reputation.
“I suppose I technically am one by the strictest definition, but there is a lot of baggage with that term that I’d rather not be associated with,” the man let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.
“By yourself?”
“No, I have a team I work with. I actually came to Re-Estize with them but they got caught outside the wall of flames the demon put up.
“Are they safe?”
“Thankfully, yes,” the man looked across the damaged city. “Truth be told, I actually came here looking for you.”
“Oh?” Woah really!?
He’d had only been masquerading as Momon for a few weeks and he was already getting fans!? Sure, that was the whole point of his persona, to spread his name far and wide, so he really shouldn’t be surprised when someone tries to track him down to meet him. But it’s one thing to plan it, it’s a whole nother to see it.
And the fact it was someone powerful enough to fight a level fifty-seven NPC as well!
Looked like his plan of spreading his name around to attract strong individuals was starting to pay off!
“Indeed,” the man nodded. “I had heard all about the extraordinary feats you’ve done. And, apologies if this comes across as demeaning, but I could hardly believe them.
“I hope I didn’t disappoint.”
“Strange as it might sound, you exceeded even my most exaggerated preconceptions,” the man admitted. “Your strength, your power, they defy belief. So much in fact, that I feel the urge to introduce you to an acquaintance of mine.”
“Oh? An acquaintance?”
“Acquaintance, colleague, teacher, all that and more,” he nodded.
“Hmm, is she as strong as you?” He tried his luck once more with the fishing.
“Stronger,” he answered. “Vastly stronger.”
Interesting.
“And, hypothetically, if the two of us were to duel, which of us do you think would come out on top?”
“Her of course,” the man answered without hesitation.
“Even after seeing what I’ve done, of hearing of my deeds?”
“I mean no disrespect,” he apologized, “but if you faced my colleague, in an actual battle, all you would find is certain death.”
Ainz did his best to hold in a scoff.
Okay technically, a lot of people were higher-level warriors then Ainz could ever be. But that was because they were ‘actual’ warriors and not some magic caster pretending to be a warrior. Without Perfect Warrior active, transferring his magic casting levels into strict warrior levels, Ainz was certain there were a large number of people who could keep up with him.
Not that he’s ever seen the need to use it beyond his battle with Shalltear, his current stats more than sufficient to larp as a warrior and high damage mitigation would nullify most damage anyway.
“Well, I can only hope to one day prove you wrong,” he replied.
The man laughed, “many men before you have said the same thing.”
“It only takes one,” Ainz boasted. “Maybe one day she can come with you to E-Rantel and we can settle the matter. If you send word beforehand, I promise I’ll drop what I’m doing to meet the two of you.”
“Ser Momon,” the man held out his hand once more, his ruby eyes filled with clear amusement, “I fear that one day, I will have to take you up on that offer.”
It was only after the man left that Ainz realized he never got his name.
--
--
Some fires were still raging long after the sun rose.
For my part, I was essentially stress eating to pass the time in captivity.
Sure, technically I was being held here ‘for my safety’ since I was a ‘person of interest’, but that’s essentially just captivity with a few extra steps. The only difference between actual captivity is that my cell was a gaudy sitting room with plush couches and an all I can eat buffet, rather than some cramped room deep underground.
And it wasn’t as if I could get out anytime I wanted if I really wanted to leave. It doesn’t matter if he posted Leinas here, I was way too strong to be stopped by any one person in this city.
But the seclusion did give me a chance to think things over.
In short, I’ve basically decided to just ‘spill the beans’ as it were to Jircniv. Tell the emperor everything I knew about Nazarick. How Ainz was basically a dumb-dumb he could easily outsmart, how Momon and him are one and the same, and even hook him up with some Yggdrasil gear to even the playing field to an extent.
And sure, maybe he can’t do anything, there is a reason that ‘caped at gold’ is a saying among adventurers, but he might be able to get me into contact with someone who can make use of this stuff. I remember that the Platinum Dragon Lord was a leader of one of the nation’s to the north. Being an Emperor, Jircniv could introduce us.
Yes. It was all coming along swimmingly.
But, as I soon found out, no plan survives first contact.
When Jircniv finally got away from all the reports and duties of being ruler of a nation to sit down and talk with me,
“So…” I ran my fingers along the table’s edge, trying to find the right words to untangle the cluster fuck I find myself in. “So….I suppose you have questions…about….what happened.”
“That is an understatement,” Jircniv “My city was attacked. My people were cut down like animals, and my city was set ablaze for seemingly no reason. Apart, that is, from the hither until now unknown force that you claim to know about.”
“Yes,” I nodded, “the demon who attacked Arwintar and I do have quite the connection.”
“So let's get to it then shall we,” the Emperor motioned for one of his scribes to start writing. “Who is Jaldabaoth? And what is your connection to him?”
Blunt and right to the point, I can respect that.
“You see I-“
Yet before I could even get a word in, I noticed something off about a shadow along one of the many decorative columns of the emperor’s study. It clung to the marble in a way that physically should not be possible. It moved in an unnerving way, yet there was nothing to cast said shadow around. It also had a smile, as if a light went through a specific part of the shadow to make it.
Please don’t let that be what I think it is.
[Detect Heteromorphs]
PING
An immediate return, right where the odd shadow was.
Oh, you have got to be fucking-
“Miss Lilith? Is there a problem?”
I blinked, almost forgetting what I was supposed to be doing.
Though I can hardly tell him all about Nazarick now that a shadow demon was just over there listening in. And right after I made such a big thing about it. I can hardly back down now without looking super suspicious to these guys.
So, I needed something that was dramatic enough to satisfy Jircniv, but far enough away from the truth so I don’t get killed for ‘treason’ by some overzealous NPC.
As if I could betray something I wasn’t loyal to….
And now everyone here was expecting some big ‘reveal’ from me. That I now cannot give them because of our little observer.
Am going to have to bullshit this aren’t I?
….
What is the most anime-y thing I can think of?
--
--
“Miss Lilith, is there a problem?”
“Um…no,” the girl rubbed the back of her neck with a sigh. “It’s just…I have no idea where to begin.”
“The beginning, if you could,” he told her, “And please do not hold anything back.”
“Right…nothing back,” the girl mumbled. “Hmmm, well to start, I need to talk a bit about my homeland, or else none of this will make sense.”
Jircniv gestured for her to begin, quietly making sure everything she said was not only being transcribed but recorded via magical means.
After a few moments of jitteriness, she finally took a deep breath. “To start, Thousands of years ago, my homeland was founded by the Mage King Solomon, the most powerful human to have ever lived. At the height of his reign, he took the succubus Lilith as his queen and fathered seventy-two children. But for all-“
“Wait Seventy-Two kids?” Baziwood interrupted, whistling to himself. “Impressive.”
“As I was saying,” Lilith shot the knight a look before resuming her tale. “But for all his power, Solomon was but a human, and no amount of magic could change that. He lived far longer than a human has any right to live, but eventually he did pass on. When he died Lilith, who was bound to him, was released from their pact and returned to wherever it is she came from, leaving their seventy-two children behind.”
“Half demon children,” Jircniv heard Fluder mumble to himself.
“None of the children could decide who would succeed their father,” the girl continued, ignoring the old man. “So they abandoned the concept of kingship and established a body where they would decide collectively who among their number would rule. Thus began the reign of the Ars Goetia. Who continues to rule my people to this day.”
“So, you’re trying to say you’re some kind of demon?” Jircniv proposed the first thing that came to mind at the end of this story. Some ‘good’ demon who fought evil ones? “That’s what this is all leading to right?”
“Not quite,” she hesitated for a moment, as if bracing herself. “My name, full name I mean, is Lilith Ars Goetia Lucifer Solomon.
“Wait, Solomon? As in-“
“Yes,” she nodded, “I am a direct descendent of the Mage-King Solomon himself. Of the line of his eldest son Lucifer to be specific. I am human…mostly. Though it would be apt to say I am ‘demon blooded’.”
“You hardly seem demonic looking,”
“That….would be the glamor I have over me. One moment.” A pulse of magic emanated from the woman in front of him. The girl’s appearance shifted as the magic wore off.
Skin paled, her hair bleached itself of most color, and her eyes changed to a sickly gold. A dozen small imperfections washed away in moments before his eyes. She looked aesthetically perfect by all accounts.
The reactions from his courtiers ran the gambit from amazement to looking at her as if she were some sort of delicate doll. Yet it was all off, about it all to him. Inhuman. Her appearance was so pristine, so refined, it bordered on the grotesque.
At that moment, Jircniv himself decided that she was simultaneously the most beautiful and the most disgusting person he had ever seen.
“This is why,” Lilith continued, gesturing to herself. “My appearance is far too…different to simply blend into any crowd. So, I cast a glamor on myself. And this is what I believe he is after.” A staff materialized in her hand, a dark silver rod with a bright bloody red stone at the top.
“This is the Bloodstone, one of seventy-two artifacts of Solomon,” she explained. “While each of the seventy-two families traditionally held special artifacts like this, there are a multitude of lesser relics scattered all across the world. Most people who find them, or end up with one, will think they are pretty baubles and never realize just what they have in their possession. Only one with the Blood of Solomon can use these artifacts, for anyone else….well. At best they’re fancy baubles that collect dust, at worst they backfire and kill the one trying to use them.”
“Some sort of curse?” Fluder spoke up.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “Maybe? My people were skilled enough in magic to lock these items from other races to use.”
“While this is all very interesting, perhaps you can explain more how this all connects to the demon who attacked my city?” Jircniv was hardly impatient, but it was hard for him to hold in his agitation as the conversation started to divert from the main topic. That being how all this comes together.
“But it all relates. Why he attacked your city,” she held up the staff, “and who brought him into this world.”
“Are you trying to say you summoned that demon?”
“Me? No. My father on the other hand…” she looked away, clearly upset by the admission. “That particular demon was already in this world for years before I was brought into it. ’No sacrifice is too great to protect our people’. That’s what he would tell me when I asked him about it.”
“Your father summoned the demon…that wants to kill you?” Jircniv looked to see if he had gotten that right.
“Not exactly,” she fiddled with her fingers and sighed. “See, my people have been in a period of systemic decline for over a thousand years. We’ve been beset on all sides by foreign powers, disaster after disaster struck our lands, over half of Solomon’s lines were extinguished in pointless civil wars, my people teeter on the brink of extinction. In their desperation, the Ars Goetia turned to ever darker magics to protect ourselves.”
“So you lost control of him?”
“No,” she again shook her head. “We got careless. We summoned him to do one thing, wage war and exterminate our enemies. But his leash was made too long, he was given too much freedom, and now he’s decided to take the next step in ‘protecting’ the homeland.
“And that would be?”
“The extermination of all life outside of the Ars Goetia bloodline.”
“I’m sorry?” Jircniv thought he misheard.
“He will kill everything not of the Ars Goetia,” she repeated more clearly. “Jaldaboath don't see you, or anyone not of the Ars Goetia, as anything more than animals. And will treat you as such.”
As Lilith went into greater detail about the demon, Jircniv couldn’t help but feel she was letting whatever person experiences she had with it color her words. He had no doubt that the creature was powerful, perhaps as much as the horrid Soul Eater, but to describe it in fantastical terms like ‘apocalyptic’ was ridiculous.
The demon was no doubt powerful, it no doubt had an army of followers both mortal and demonic, and it most likely could tear through population centers with little difficulty, but to say it could eradicate nations? Ridiculous.
It had to be.
At least, that was what he thought, even as she went into detail about so called ‘flaying shacks’ that Jaldaboath set up in the Albion Hills for captured humans, until a courtier interrupted his meeting to inform him of events in Re-Estize.
Of the destruction.
The chaos.
The mass death and abduction of its population.
The army of demons.
Of the ‘Demon Emperor Jaldaboath’ at their head and the relic he was searching for.
Then he no longer took her words as ‘overly fantastical’.
Listening now to her warnings in earnest, he felt his stomach begin to twist and turn.
--
--
God damn I thought that meeting would never end!
I have no idea how I held it together so well as I fed a cliché riddled anime plot to the Emperor.
Ars Goetia? Mage King? Bloodstone? Fucking Lucifer? I’m actually surprised I managed to spin a tale that insane that quickly with a straight face. I can only hope that the overthinking Jircniv will connect a bunch of nonexistent dotes to make the whole thing more coherent than it felt saying aloud. It’s human nature to try and find consistency and patterns in anything after all.
And thank God for that courtier coming in to tell him about the attack on Re-Estize just as I was talking about Demiurge’s bullshit. That single thing probably lent more legitimacy to my story than anything I actually said.
Hell, I might even be lucky enough that he’ll excuse any plot holes as me not telling the ‘whole story’ or keeping some things close to my chest.
I managed to get him to agree to let me go home, though I am almost certain I am now under the scrutinizing gaze of a dozen sets of eyes, that issue is hardly a deal breaker. A little magic here, an illusion there, a teleport over yonder, and I ought to get some privacy.
Of more immediate concern…
“What the hell happened here!?”
My home.
My beautiful, beautiful home!
Hours ago, it was the picture of perfection. But now?
Scorch marks on the stone.
Holes in the lawn.
Rusty red smears splashed across the greenery.
Sure, the inside was fine, and in far better condition than nearly every other house around it, but all this stuff was still such an eyesore!
And where the hell were my golems!? I couldn’t see any of them in the hallways. That just wasn’t like them!
They were always so…stationary. Never prone to moving about.
“Mya,” I waved the girl over from her absentminded dusting, interrupting her attempted curtsy with my question, “what the hell happened here?”
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“But, I am Eva-“
“Look Mya this is serious,” I didn’t have the patience for Mya’s games right now. “Ignoring the warzone out there, where are my golems?”
“They are...not here…?”
“Obviously,” I roll my eyes at the homunculus’s reply. “But where are they?
“I believe they are repelling the humans who dared to attack your domicile, my Lady.”
“Okay, but where are they now?”
“I would guess they are still attacking them.”
“All thirty of them!?”
“Evidently, yes,” the girl nodded with a sagely expression. “While brilliantly constructed, clearly, they are missing something in the intelligence department. I have no doubt you will improve that in their next iterations.”
I felt like ripping my hair out, “but where?”
“I last saw them going that way,” Mya pointed out past the damaged yard to the other homes. Each looked as if trucks had smashed into them and came out the other end.
Now that I had a chance to look at them properly, there were lots of single file lines of heavy footprints in that direction…
Oh boy, that’s a lot of collateral.
Ugh…I don’t have time to do this myself.
Grumbling, I summoned a wraith to my side. “Find them, and bring them back,” I ordered, only realizing a moment later that I didn’t specify who ‘they’ were or what I meant by bringing them ‘back’.
Not that I had a chance to correct myself, the spectral figure bolted off into the distance, following the trail of destruction from the night before, ducking and slithering into shadows as it sped off.
Eh….It’ll be fine.
…
Probably.
Ah well. Worse comes to worse, I can always make more. With the experience I have from the other, I’m pretty sure I can improve upon and make them way better. Like being able to actually talk!
…
Ah, fuck, that’s right. I just remembered.
My life just isn’t going to be that simple.
After the whole thing in Re-Estize, things start picking up speed in the ‘plot’. I know the whole ‘just as planned’ stuff about Jaldaboath and ‘Momon’, but I’m drawing a bit of a blank on what came after that. Is there that attack on Carne Village or is Nazarick ‘invaded’ by workers?
My memory wasn’t as good as it used to be about this stuff. I do know that after one, or both, of those things there is that huge battle where Ainz kills hundreds of thousands and establishes his kingdom.
Damn it! I can remember obscure plot details off the top of my head, and even recall the fucking breakfast I had the day before I…appeared in Yggdrasil, but apparently trying to remember major plot beats correctly is where my memory draws the line!
Wait a moment, the workers invasion of Nazarick…
Arche!
Damnit!
I have to stop that from happening. All of that from happening.
But who was the one who organized it? Jircniv? Technically yes, but it was only after Fluder told him about Nazarick and prompted him to facilitate an expedition.
So, I guess I just need to kill Fluder to-!
Wait, no, that’s a stupid idea. Way too knee jerk and reactionary.
Think! Fluder only tells Jircniv to send the workers after Ainz pops by in Arwintar as Momon to do something. And Fluder see’s just how powerful Ainz is, he just rolls over and effectively becomes a quisling for the so to be Sorcerous Kingdom-
Wait!
Wait just a moment!
Fluder basically turns his cloak to Ainz because of how powerful he looks with his Talent….
I look down at the ring on my finger, that small metal band keeping the illusion of my power up. Similar or even identical to the one Ainz has on right now.
A plan quickly began to spin itself in my head.
I looked at my pile of unused stuff, philosopher stones by the dozen, prismatic ores, and the various spell tomes I had but never even bothered to look into yet.
…
Well, well, well!
If my actions are going to derail ‘canon’ at some point regardless, due to me doing it on purpose or not, I might as well do it in the most spectacular way imaginable and have it on my terms.
--
--
What a disaster.
“Shut the doors, hurry!”
Just when they thought they were in the clear, dozens of golems show up out of nowhere and start killing everything that moves.
They were relentless. Always moving, always killing.
Sure they were slow as all hell, but they never stopped. Never tired. Always followed, and never gave a moment of respite.
Ten hours of constant battle and they still just kept coming.
The human body can only keep going for so long before something gives from sheer exhaustion.
While slow and clumsy, their attacks packed a lethal punch when their blows hit and they were seemingly immune to pretty much any form of attack.
The end result?
Carnage on a scale Gramm has rarely seen.
Only a few workers were able to keep up with the insane battle.
Erya, Silver Thread’s leader, was one of them. Thanks to the constant magical aid of his slaves, he was able to match the golems in a battle of pure stamina. Dodging and weaving between their ranks and attacks. He even managed to behead the strange creature casting magic alongside them earlier. However, his attacks on the golems themselves were ineffective. Even when enhanced by magic, his blade couldn’t even scratch the armor.
He ruined his katana from all the slices, so he also tried to slide the blade in through the small joins and gaps of the armor in an attempt to damage the golem’s core.
Again, no luck.
Gramm for his part fared both better than most as well. While hardly as fast as Erya, his Talent actually let him weather the unceasing attacks that came one after another, redirecting the ‘energy’ of the blow right back at the suits of armor. Though he was hardly doing any damage of his own in turn, even the golem’s own attacks seemed incapable of hurting themselves.
With the right timing, he could even push all the ‘energy’ of a blow to a specific part of his own body to amplify his own attacks. Like taking a hit to the arm so he could kick the suit in the knees, making it tumble to the ground under its own weight.
But all of his efforts only ended with them slowing the golems down, not stopping them.
As they beat against the reinforced mithril doors, Gramm could tell that the race was up.
But just as the door creaked under the constant barrage of fists akin to battering rams on the opposing side, something happened.
A portal opened behind them, out of it came a trio of figures.
The tall, imposing figure of Jaldaboath, his freakish tail swinging back and forth.
Mr. Lowton, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
And a shorter figure who followed him as the portal closed behind them.
He was tempted to say the short figure as a ‘girl’, given her appearance and seeming youth, but something about those blood red eyes made him realize she was just as monstrous as Jaldaboath.
“Well, this is a lot more interesting than I thought it would be,” the demon mused to himself, looking at both the workers and the door slowly breaking down. “I hope I didn’t return at a bad time.”
“Fuck you!” Erya swore, pointing his dulled chipped blade at the demon.
“Believe me when I say I am as surprised as you are at the situation,” the demon chuckled at the worker’s frustration, Mr. Lowton shivering by the tall demon’s side. “But I will say this is a most welcome surprise. I was afraid I would have to halve your numbers myself, but clearly, she had other ideas.”
She?
He didn’t have time to question it. The door broke down and the suits of armor marched in. Three by rank, without breaking their stride, they raised their weapons to strike down the last of the workers.
Gram shut his eyes before the blow would land, bracing himself to reflect the damage.
Only…nothing happened.
Cracking his eyes open he found the most unbelievable sight.
The red eyed woman had somehow appeared in front of him and was holding back the blade of the golem…with a single finger!?
He heard the woman sigh, not in pain but boredom then with a flick of her wrist sent the weapon flying across the room.
The golem stared at the short woman, seemingly as surprised as Gram was by the sight, then tried to strike the woman with its bare fist.
She caught the fist in her hand and tore the arm from its socket. Then with a single thrust of a bizarre looking polearm, that seemingly appeared out of nowhere, she tore through the golem’s torso. It jolted from the attack, then went limp and slid off the weapon.
“I had dismal expectations for your kind’s capabilities, and yet you’ve somehow managed to underperform,” Gram heard the woman tell him. She tossed the limp suit to the side.
This got the attention of all the other golems, seeing her as a greater threat they converged on and overwhelm her.
But try as they might, golem after golem fell to her.
Torn, ripped apart, bisected. One by one they fell.
A force that slaughtered dozens of workers, was being taken down in less time than it took to put on one's clothes.
But then, as with before, something happened that changed the dynamic.
Something came out of the shadows. It was skeletal looking, but hardly solid with wisps of ashy smoke coming off its form. Sharp boney claws grabbed the shoulder of one of the remaining golems and brought it close as if whispering some secret to it.
The assault stopped.
Looking at one another, the golems looked between her red eyed woman and the…thing that appeared beside them.
Then, as suddenly as it appeared, the last golems started walking backwards. Never taking their ‘eyes’ off the woman or the other workers, but slowly retreating into the shadows of the sewer system.
“See, your problem has solved itself,” the demon commented, straightening his suit and approaching the spectral creature. “My thanks to your Lady. I do need a few of them after all.”
Lady?
The creature stared at Jaldaboath for a few moments, then it let out such a horrid screech Gramm could swear he felt his ears bleed. But as soon as it acted, it was gone. The creature was gone, only the faint remnants of its screech remained, bouncing off the walls of the long sewer tunnel.
“My, how very rude,” Jaldaboath muttered to himself, pushing his glasses up.
“This trash was causing you humans trouble,” she sighed, crushing the last golem’s helmet beneath her foot as if it were thin foil. “It’s barely worth the effort to bring out my weapon.”
“They tore through hundreds of humans on their way down here,” Jaldaboath mentioned.
“Hmph. Then that just makes the humans less than trash,” the woman decided, grinding bits of shredded metal under her shoe. “Who made these things anyway? I hope it was some lesser creature’s life work that I shredded in mere moments.”
“Actually…it was Citrinitas who built them.”
Gramm didn’t recognize the name, but apparently the woman did. Her reaction to the creator’s identity caused an immediate, and radical, shift in the woman’s demeanor. Shoulder slacked; foot raised to be no longer touching the metal.
“Citrinitas…. made them?” The woman blinked a couple of times, looking at the destruction she wrought.
“Yes,” Jaldboath’s tail swished back and forth like a cat looking at something amusing.
“A-and I….” Her demeanor radically shifted.
“Yes…” the demon continued to smile.
Gramm covered his ears as the woman let out a scream and fell to her knees, grabbing bits and pieces of metal scattered across the ground.
“No, no, no, no, no, ,” the short woman dumped bits of metal into the torn, empty, shell of the armor and then tried to ‘bend’ the split armor back into ‘place’ like one would straighten out a bent sword. “I can still fix this.”
“I’m afraid you’re a bit beyond that point,” Jaldaboath seemed beyond amused by the woman’s reaction.
“Stop standing there and help me!” she snapped at him, trying to reattach the arm she tore off just a short while ago. For a normal person, pressing their severed arm against the socket would do little good, the magic that powered the golem seemed to reassert some control over the limb. The lone arm lurched forward to grab the woman’s throat.
“See! I can fix this!” Her giddiness was short-lived, as the arm soon went limp. Now inert like all the other pieces scattered about. “No!”
“I wouldn’t be too upset,” the demon, strangely, sounded genuinely cordial, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder as she looked like she was going to break down crying. “She didn’t really care about them.”
“…you think so?” Gods that woman was crying. Crazed monster who looked down on them to a crying girl. Where did Jaldaboath find these people?
“Of course,” the demon assured her. “She sent them down here to be disposed of in an indirect sort of fashion, though I can admit she probably failed to take into account how pitifully weak these creatures are.”
Gramm heard Erya swear under his breath, and other workers gave the samurai some distance fearing Jadaboaths wraith.
“..you sure?” the girl asked, wiping her face.
“Of course, I am. And if by some chance she is upset, I will personally intercede and claim it was my fault these golems were destroyed. None of the blame will fall on you.”
“Well…if you're sure,” the woman sounded like she was trying to convince herself of the demon’s words. “In that case, thank you to Demi….” She cut herself off and cleared her throat. “I mean, you to demi- um, Jel….Jabberwack….Um….What was I supposed to call you again?”
“Jaldabaoth” the demon corrected with a smile. “You did read the script, correct?”
“O-Of course I did,” she huffed, crossing her arms and looking away. “But…you know…you.. you could tell me that stuff… again I mean… just so I know we’re both on the same page. A-alright?”
“But of course,” the demon smiled, “I eagerly await your input on my recall.”
“Who is she sir?” Gramm finally whispered to Mr. Lowton.
“I don’t even care anymore,” he mumbled. “She just appeared out of thin air.”
“But first, Morrice Lowton,” Mr. Lowton paled at the demon’s address. “You have lived up to your end of the bargain, and so I must live up to mine. As agreed upon, the Eight Fingers are yours to command.”
“No…no, it’s quite alright…”
“No, I insist,” Jaldaboath placed a hand on Morrice’s shoulder, holding the man in place. “Your seat sits empty, ready for you to take your rightful place at the head of the organization. The other members of the Executive Committee are already being enlightened of their new roles. Everything you could ever want is within your grasp, you need only…reach out and take it.”
“Of course, you, and all your worker associates, will have to travel into the Kingdom,” the demon continued. “But don’t worry, not only will I have some of my demons personally escort you to ensure your safety, but you needn’t even go that deep into the Kingdom. Why, the other executives are just a short jaunt over the border in a quaint little town called Carne…”
--
--
“Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice,” Lilith greeted Fluder at the entrance to his personal study. “I know with everything going on, you must have so many other things on your plate then setting some time aside for me.”
“Think nothing of it Miss Lilith,” he thanked her, welcoming her in. He gave a single glance at her silent companion. Not Miss Furt, but a giant of a man wearing a thick cloak. The only bit of exposed body was a simple funeral mask on his.
“Don’t worry, he’s not following me in,” she glanced over to the man. “Stand guard outside. Make sure no one interrupts us.”
Fluder could swear he heard not words, but a gravely groan from the man in response. A curt bow later, the hulking figure turned to watch the door.
“Strange…company you keep,” the arch wizard mused as he closed the door.
“He’s a golem I made. Less a ‘person’ and more ‘something to put between me and something coming after me’.” She admitted.
“Not an unnecessary step, given recent events.”
“At least he can sort of vocalize unlike the others I made,” shrugging as she walked around the small room. “Anyway, like I said, I’m thankful for the chance to speak with you, it gives me the chance to clear the air.”
“’Clear the air?’”
“There’s more to the situation than the story I told you,” she looked out the sole window of the room, as if making sure no one was watching.
“I admit, a story with a great deal of fantastical elements does beggar belief-”
“It sounds fantastical because it is,” she cut him off.
“…Pardon?” Did he hear that right?
“Did I stutter?” she questioned, turning to him. “Let me rephrase it: Every word of my story I told you and your emperor was a complete and outright fabrication. There is no ancient bloodline, no Ars Goetia, none of it was real. I made up every word of it on the spot.”
“B..But why?” trying to figure out why the woman would lie before the Emperor, and so egregious at that.
“Because if I said the whole truth, we’d all be dead right now,” walking to the window, she pulled the lone cord to close the curtain. “There was a demon listening in and if I said what I really wanted to say it would go and tattle on me.”
“And I suppose you came here to tell me the ‘truth’?”
“Actually, I think it’s more apt to say I want to tell you, and show you, the truth,” she answered cryptically, casting the room in darkness as the curtain fell. “But first, look at me with your talent and tell me what you see.”
“Excuse me?” he failed to see the point of what she was asking.
“This isn’t a trick,” she quickly explained, fiddling with a small ring on her finger. “In fact, I promise it will make everything beyond clear.”
Grumbling to himself at the girl’s tone of voice, he did as she asked. If only to get some answers from all this.
He saw her magical power. Brilliant. Powerful. Vibrant. But hardly something to warrant all this cloak and dagger business.
“So, what do you see?”
“The same as I did before,” he was still not sure where this was going. He assumes some great reveal of greater power or the reveal that her power was from something on her person.
“Hmmm,” she mumbled to herself, fiddling with a ring. He saw her slip the small metal band on her finger.
“Miss Lilith, I fail to see the-“
Blinding.
That was all Fluder could truly see.
A blinding beam of magical energy that blasted outwards like a violent gale of wind in every direction.
His eyes watered and burned under the intense blaze of energy his talent showed him.
This….
This power was beyond anything he had ever seen!
It was….Godlike.
Fluder didn’t even realize he fell to his knees, silently weeping at the sight.
How…
How had he not seen it before!?
This girl-
No.
This Being…
This GOD was of the Tenth Tier of magic!
Perhaps even beyond that into the Eleventh!
It was almost too much for him to take in.
It was beautiful.
Blinding in its magnificence.
Burning in its brilliance.
It was monstrous.
It was monolithic.
Inhuman.
Divine.
It was-
Gone.
The brilliance, the magnificence, all of it was gone. Replaced with the light from before, now seeming more like a mere flicker of what he had seen. He noticed the ring she had taken off earlier now firmly back in place.
“Who….” He could barely speak; his legs also failed him when he tried to stand. A thousand questions roiled about in his head trying to make sense of what he had just experienced. “Who…What are you?”
“Now that I seem to have your undivided attention, I suppose I should tell you a story,” she dragged a chair across the room and sat down opposite him. The seat was almost a throne from his point of view. “Though, even with it, I can assure you that question is more involved than you might imagine,” the woman chuckled to herself.
“Please Miss- Great one,” Fluder begged the divine being, “please forgive my earlier disrespect. I did not…I-I have no explanation for how I failed to see what you truly were.”
“Oh enough of the groveling,” she dismissed his pleas, “while there is a time and place for it, neither are now. First I need to…fuck. How do I explain the concept of an MMORPG to a place that doesn’t have computers, let alone the internet, or electricity yet?”
“An Em-Em-Oh-Are-Pee-Gee?” Fluder repeated the foreign word as the woman mumbled to herself.
“No, it’s an acronym, not a word,” she corrected. “It stands for Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game and…Oh fuck,” she frowned, crossing her legs. “Okay this is going to be a lot more difficult than I thought it would be.”
“Please, great one, I am willing to learn anything you might share,” Fluder pressed his head into the ground, bowing as deeply as the floor would allow him.
“What did I just say about groveling?” She hummed to herself. “I’ll admit, it’s a bit of a long story, so I would ask that you please hold your questions until the end. Then I will ask you to do some favors for me. In exchange, I will give you power beyond the limits of your imagination.”
“I-I…” he could barely finish his sentences, fearing he would upset the great one yet again.
”To begin with, this story is about two worlds and their connection to this one,” she began. “How the most defining events of your world were directly influenced by people from these worlds. The Theocracy’s ‘Gods’, the Eight Greed Kings, the Leader of the Thirteen Heroes, and now myself and the one the demon Jaldaboath serves. All of us come from the same place.”
A realm of Gods and Demons and Heroes? Did such a place truly exist? It had been theorized by several heretical scholars in the Theocracy, but he had never given it much thought…
“But to understand that you need to understand the nature of the two worlds we called home,” she continued ignoring his question. “One, was a dying world of pollution and death, the other a fantastical realm of monsters, heroes, and adventures that people went to for a brief escape from their miserable existence on the former. They are called Earth and Yggdrasil…”