Rebellion, An Overlord Story[NPC OC/SI]

[BenMalek]

Plans dans les plans​

The full ensemble of the Black Scripture gathered in the grand hall of the Slane Theocracy, their faces set with determination. Their mission was clear: subjugate the Catastrophe Dragon Lord, a task only they could undertake. Each member was a hero, utilizing legendary equipment from the Six Great Gods, a testament to their unparalleled might.

The Captain, with androgynous features, long black hair, and sharp red eyes, stood in ornate armor, holding a humble-looking spear. "All right, everyone, this mission is critical. The Catastrophe Dragon Lord is a formidable foe, but we must succeed."

Time Turbulence, a man with medium brown hair, green eyes, and a cape adorned with clock patterns, wielded his spiral-patterned rapier with ease. "I've been waiting for a real challenge. It's been too quiet since the Sunlight Scripture debacle."

Lady Kaire, the elderly 4th Seat, wore a white cheongsam embroidered with a golden dragon, the powerful artifact 'Downfall of Castle and Country.' She had a serene yet authoritative presence. "I heard rumors that Clementine might have had a hand in what happened to them. She disappeared around the same time."

One Man Army, Quaiesse Hazia Quintia, who bore a striking resemblance to his twin sister Clementine, had blond hair and pink eyes. He specialized in commanding tamed beasts stored in his rings. "Clementine always was a wild card. But let's focus. This Dragon Lord won't be an easy target."

Callous Lancer, with short blond hair slicked back and narrow gray eyes, wore decorative armor and carried a large lance. "A Dragon Lord, huh? I've fought a few dragons before, but nothing like this. Any intel on its abilities?"

Thousand Leagues Astrologer, a young woman with short light brown hair, orange eyes, and dressed in a school uniform, provided intelligence support. "From what I've gathered, it's incredibly powerful, with devastating magical and physical capabilities. It's also said to have some control over catastrophic events."

"So…nothing concrete beyond it being big and scary? Like every other dragon?" Callous lancer queried, and the young woman merely nodded in response.

Cedran, a tall, muscular man with long crimson hair tied in a ponytail, known for his stern demeanor, crossed his arms. "Sounds like we're in for a tough fight. But we've faced worse. Remember the battle against the Beast of the Apocalypse?"

Beaumarchais, Divine Chain, Clementine's replacement as the 9th seat, was a powerfully built man with black spiked hair and a tattoo on his left temple, who also had an unhealthy affinity for chains, be they used in combat or… elsewhere.

"That was a nightmare. But this might be even worse. A Dragon Lord's strength is beyond that of any regular monster. And speaking of nightmares, any word on what happened to the Sunlight Scripture? Did they find the bastard who did it?"

The Captain shook his head. "We know he's a magic caster who goes by the name of Ainz Ooal Gown, but beyond that? There's no information about him. Whoever he is, he knows how to stay out of sight."

The old, gray-haired man known by the title of 'Strongest Human', had a great and terrifying axe and even more great and terrifying muscles that covered every inch of his body. "Forget the magic caster. We're going dragon hunting! And it's a good thing we are! It's been so long since my ax has tasted blood, and I need a real fight. This Dragon Lord better not disappoint."

At that point, a woman glared at him like he was an idiot. Her title was Infinite Magic, and her appearance was that of a frail woman with long blue hair, dressed in loose, sagging clothes,l and wore an enormous hat. She specialized in powerful magic and was among the if not the most powerful magic caster in the Theocracy's employ, and possibly the most powerful magic caster on the continent, after Fluder Paradyne of course.

"If we're not careful, it could end us all. But with our combined strength, we stand a chance."

Tenjho Tenge, a middle-aged man in a red, skin-tight bodysuit reinforced with metal plating, specialized in close combat. "We'll need to be at our best. No room for mistakes."

The Captain nodded, his red eyes sharp and focused. "We proceed with caution. Remember, this mission isn't just about defeating a powerful enemy. It's about ensuring the safety and dominance of the Slane Theocracy. The Catastrophe Dragon Lord has the potential to wreak havoc on our lands. We must eliminate this threat."

"Am I the only one here worried about Clementine? Her and Zurrarnon could cause us a bunch of trouble. Any chance they might show up?" Time Turbulence asked.

The third seat of the Black Scripture, a middle-aged man with a mark tattoo on his left palm who wore extravagant robes decided to speak up. "Good. It'll be fun to fight those posers and show them what true power is."

And as a man who specialized in necromantic magic, shadow magic, and curses, he was most similar to a member of Zurrarnon.

At his words, Time Turbulence cringed and muttered 'weirdo' under his breath.

One Man Army, who bore a striking resemblance to his twin sister Clementine, answered with a grim expression. "If my sister is alive, she'll be watching from the shadows, no doubt. But if we do find her, we will capture her and bring her to justice. Her defecting was one thing, but to steal the Crown of Wisdom as well is unforgivable. Nonetheless, we can't worry about her now."

The Captain agreed. "We stick to the mission. The Dragon Lord is our priority. Anything else is just a bonus."

Callous Lancer cracked his knuckles. "I have no doubt that our training is enough. We will succeed. Even if we are too weak to take it down ourselves, Lady Kaire will use 'Downfall of Castle and Country' to subjugate the beast."

Strongest Human hefted his axe with a grin. "Don't place too much faith in magic trinkets. You never know where things might go wrong. But yeah, we'll come back alive and victorious, all of us."

Callous Lancer's mouth was agape. "Did you just call… a treasure from the Gods… a trinket?"

The old man merely flashed him a smile in response.

Thousand Leagues Astrologer sighed. "I'll provide as much intelligence support as I can during the mission. Keep your eyes and ears open. And don't expect me to fight that thing, whatever it is."

Cedran's eyes blazed with determination. "We'll make sure this Dragon Lord regrets crossing paths with the Black Scripture."

Divine Chain's voice was steady. "Just another job. But let's make sure we all come back alive."

Infinite Magic's gaze was intense. "Alive, and victorious."

Tenjho Tenge's fists clenched in anticipation. "I'm ready. Let's do this."

The Captain raised his spear, a symbol of their unity and strength. "For the Slane Theocracy!"

The members echoed his rallying cry, their determination unwavering. Together, they marched out, ready to face the Catastrophe Dragon Lord and prove once again why the Black Scripture was the strongest force in the Theocracy.

---

The dawn cast a gray light through the grand windows of the Emperor's council chamber. Jircniv Rune Farlord El Nix, the Blood Emperor, sat at the head of the table, his usually confident demeanor replaced by an uneasy pallor. The Four Imperial Knights—Nazami Enec, Nimble Arc Dale Anoch, Leinas Rockbruise, and Baziwood Peshmel—stood by, their expressions reflecting varying degrees of concern and determination.

Advisors and council members were already gathered, their murmurs hushed but urgent. Jircniv cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to him. "We need to discuss the slavery reforms," he began, his voice lacking its usual authority. "I have compiled a list of 100 prominent slaveholders and merchants who must be dealt with to stabilize our empire."

Nazami Enec, a tall and muscular man with dark tanned skin and an x-shaped scar on his chin, remained stoic and composed. His dark brown eyes conveyed his concern without words. Nimble Arc Dale Anoch, a handsome young man with short blonde hair and blue eyes, frowned slightly, his demeanor dignified yet apprehensive. Leinas Rockbruise, the only female knight, stood aloof, her fair skin and green eyes marred by a curse that had disfigured the right side of her face. Baziwood Peshmel, the acting leader, with his long blonde hair and muscular build, leaned forward, his informal personality evident even in his concern.

"Your Majesty, another purge targeting influential individuals will incite unrest. We must consider the repercussions," Nazami said, his deep voice calm.

"Indeed," added Nimble, his tone calculating. "Perhaps we could spread out the actions over several months? This would mitigate immediate backlash and allow us to manage the consequences more effectively."

Baziwood crossed his arms, his face stern. "Eh, I say just gut em. At this point anyone not with the program deserves what's coming to 'em."

Leinas, usually silent, decided to speak. "I don't know if a purge is what we need right now. Maybe after the war?

An advisor entered the room, carrying a tray laden with breakfast. Jircniv glanced at the food, but the mere sight of it made his stomach churn. He waved it away, his face growing even paler.

"Your Majesty, are you unwell?" Nazami asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I'm fine," Jircniv replied curtly, though his pallor suggested otherwise.

As the discussion continued, Fluder Paradyne entered the chamber, his presence commanding immediate attention. The old mage's eyes glinted with hidden knowledge as he took a seat beside the Emperor.

"Master Fluder," Jircniv greeted, his voice steadying slightly. "Your counsel on this matter would be invaluable."

Fluder nodded, his expression unreadable. "A sudden purge will create chaos. Yet, reforming the institution of slavery is something we will need to do eventually. Should the Slane Theocracy destroy the Elf Kingdom, we will inevitably have a decent-sized minority of elves and half-elves in our borders. If left alone, they have the potential to cause unnecessary damage to our goals. It's easier to just emancipate all the elves now and incorporate them as loyal tax-payers, thus securing their loyalty."

Upon hearing the last word Jircniv nearly swallowed his tongue but managed to stop himself at the last moment.

Nimble, the handsome knight, commented. "We must consider the long-term effects on the populace of yet another purge. People dislike seeing blood unless it's in the Arena."

Jircniv met Fluder's gaze, a silent understanding passing between them. Both knew that their recent encounter with Remiel had prompted these drastic measures, though neither would acknowledge it openly.

Emperor Jircniv sat silent for a few moments as he deliberated his options. On the one hand, stability, on the other, possibly angering his new owner. Eventually, he came to a decision.

"I trust your wisdom, Master Fluder," Jircniv said, his voice regaining some strength. "We will proceed with caution, spreading the purge out over several months."

"Wise decision, Your Majesty," Fluder replied, his tone betraying nothing. "Stability is paramount, especially with the state of Re-Estize as a cautionary tale."

"I trust your wisdom, Master Fluder," Jircniv said, his voice regaining some strength. "We will proceed with caution, spreading the actions over several months."

"Wise decision, Your Majesty," Fluder replied, his tone betraying nothing. "Stability is paramount, especially with the state of Re-Estize as a cautionary tale."

The conversation shifted to the dire situation in Re-Estize, where instability and rebellion had taken root following their failure to address slavery and noble corruption. The shadow of their unspoken alliance, or in Jircniv's case, unwilling subjugation to Remiel loomed large over the room. The news from Re-Estize, where the nobles' failure to address the gradual degradation of their society had led to widespread unrest, served as a stark reminder of the consequences of inaction.

One of the advisors, a seasoned diplomat named Gaius Varian, spoke up. "The recent mansion incident still weighs heavily on my mind. Investigations are still ongoing, and we do not know who burned it down or why that noble and his staff were killed."

Jircniv turned to Fluder, his expression curious. "Master Fluder, do you have any insights into this incident?"

Fluder's eyes twinkled with a secretive light. "I know only this. It is not easy to destroy the manse of a well-protected noble overnight. Originally I thought it was the work of a group, but now… I believe that the individual responsible for that incident wields power that is not to be underestimated."

Jircniv nodded, understanding Fluder's hint. "Yes, the mansion incident. We must show that we are in control. No one should be able to kill our nobles at will."

"No one but you, eh?" Baziwood chimed in from the side and the comment elicited a chuckle from the Emperor.

"Our response must be measured. Too heavy-handed a response could backfire. Fluder, I'll put you on the case with the mansion. Find who did it and deal with them."

Fluder merely nodded in affirmation.

Another advisor, clearly uncomfortable, ventured, "Back to the topic of the purge. Perhaps we could focus on the most egregious offenders first? Those whose actions have directly threatened the stability of the empire?"

Gaius added, "It would demonstrate that we are acting with purpose and not simply out of fear or desperation."

The conversation circled back to the practicalities of the purge. As the morning sun rose ever higher, casting a harsh light on the gathering, Jircniv couldn't shake the feeling that his empire was now a pawn in a game far beyond his control. His appetite remained nonexistent, the weight of recent events pressing heavily on his mind and body.

"We must also consider the military situation," Nimble said, steering the conversation. "The annual war with Re-Estize is approaching. We need our forces focused and ready."

Jircniv nodded. "You're right. With Re-Estize being a powder-keg ready to erupt into civil war at any moment, we can't afford to waste too much time on the purge. We must be prepared to strike, and we will manage the purge in a way that does not distract from our preparations for the war."

One of the younger advisors, a man named Lucius Tiberian, hesitated before speaking. "Your Majesty, there is a particular individual not on the list I wish to bring to your attention."

Jircniv raised an eyebrow. "And who might that be, Lucius?"

Lucius cleared his throat. "Marcus Salvius Terentius, Your Majesty. He...he slept with my wife. Oh, and he also owns a lumber mill that supplies a significant portion of the city's construction needs."

A brief silence followed as the absurdity of Lucius' petty vendetta hung in the air. Jircniv merely chuckled in response before exhaling deeply. "Woe unto Marcus Salvius," he said, his tone both mocking and resolute. "His days are numbered."

Fluder's eyes sparkled with amusement, though he maintained his composed demeanor. "Fear not, your Majesty. I am sure that we will be victorious and all your enemies will be destroyed."

Jircniv barely contained the laughter that threatened to erupt from his soul.

---

Later that day, once night fell on the Re-Estize capital…


Demiurge stood in the shadowed alleyway, his mind racing with plans and schemes. The air was thick with the scent of decay, a fitting backdrop for the city's impending doom. His previous encounter had been productive; the information extracted from the fat man had been invaluable. Now, it was time to set the next phase into motion.

He reached out with a [Message] spell. "Shadow Demon, report."

"My lord," the demon's voice echoed in his mind, "we have identified key figures within the criminal underbelly who can be manipulated to our advantage. They control various vices and are influential in the city's darker circles."

"Excellent," Demiurge replied, a smile playing on his lips. "Begin sowing discord among them by planting those letters as instructed. Use their greed and paranoia to our benefit."

"As you command, Lord Demiurge."

Demiurge turned his attention to the flickering lights of the noble district. His plans for the city's elite were equally insidious. He would exploit their vanity and lust for power, turning them against each other and weakening their defenses. And when he had squeezed every last drop of usefulness from their bloated masses, he'd claim their souls and torment them for eternity. Perhaps he'd make a monument of their fleshy remains?

"Lord Ainz did mention we need more scrolls… Perhaps I can beat their skin into a pulp and turn it into paper? Hmm…potentially fruitful hypothesis, this. Should experiment further. I will have one of the Shadow Demons kidnap an unimportant human and experiment on them later."

With a flick of his wrist, he cast [Greater Teleportation] and appeared in the lavish gardens of a prominent noble's estate. The night was silent, save for the chirping of crickets. He approached the grand mansion, his form cloaked in shadow.

Inside, the nobleman was hosting a gathering of influential figures. Demiurge could hear the murmur of conversation, the clinking of glasses. It was a simple matter to blend into the darkness, listening in on their discussions. Not a single one of them knew that Demiurge was there, listening to their treasonous words, just waiting for the perfect timing to make his move.

"Lord Reaghan," one of the guests said, "have you heard the rumors? There are whispers of unrest in the slums. It could spill over into our districts."

Reaghan, a portly man with a haughty demeanor, waved a dismissive hand. "Nonsense. The guards will handle it. Besides, we have more pressing matters to discuss. The King's health is failing, and there are those who believe it's time for a change in leadership. It's high time Prince Barbro inherits. And with the war with Baharuth right around the corner, a victory for him will help cement his legitimacy."

"And ours!" Another thin noble exclaimed loudly and the fellow meatbags around him repeated his words and clinked their glasses together.

Demiurge's eyes gleamed. This was the opportunity he needed. As the conversation continued, he noted the alliances and rivalries among the nobles. He would fan the flames of their ambitions, turning them into unwitting pawns in his game.

As the night wore on, Demiurge made his move. He approached a particularly ambitious noble, Lord Marquess, after the noble decided to get some fresh air on a balcony. This very same noble had repeatedly and quite often been voicing his desire for greater power and autonomy for the nobility.

"Lord Marquess," Demiurge whispered, his voice like silk. "I have a proposition for you."

Marquess turned, his eyes widening at the sight of the demon. "Who... who are you?"

"Someone who has much to gain from working with you. An ally, perhaps" Demiurge replied smoothly. "One who can help you achieve your goals. But you must trust me."

Marquess hesitated, then nodded. "Why should I trust you? You don't look human."

Demiurge leaned in, his voice low and conspiratorial. "Because I have knowledge, but no place to call my own. Humans have persecuted me for a long time, and thus I have been forced to live in the shadows. Living in secrecy has provided me a wealth of information, of which I will give you freely, provided in turn you protect me from my enemies and offer me a safe place to live on your land. Perhaps you can carve out a village for me in your demesne and I can serve as one of your vassals? All I want is a place to call my own, just like any other human."

Marquess's eyes glittered with greed. "I risk much by speaking with you. But let us say I believe you. Tell me more."

"How many children does the King have? Five, three daughters and two sons. Of the two sons, one is married, and one is not, and of the three daughters, only one is unmarried. Who will inherit him?"

The noble's eyebrow furrowed. "Prince Barbro, of course."

"What if that were not so? I know that the prince has some dark secrets he'd rather not revealed. If those came to light, he'd surely be disinherited, and in so doing, start a civil war between his supporters, and those that'd support his brother."

"So, you want me to support one of these sides in a hypothetical civil war?"

"Yes and no. Your son is unmarried, and of an age with the third princess, correct? Suppose both the princes Barbro the Elder and Zanac the younger were to meet their unfortunate ends in this war. Who would inherit?"

"Hmm… The law is not clear. The King's brother…"

"Is dead. And the king's nephews are dead, the oldest descendant of his brother is a six-year old boy, the king's grand-nephew. Thus, who would inherit, a six-year old boy of diluted royal blood when Baharuth is breathing down the Kingdom's neck, or a woman, the King's own flesh and blood?"

As Demiurge laid out his plan, he could see the seeds of treachery taking root. Marquess would become his instrument, spreading discord and weakening the noble class from within. Not that they needed more weakening.

"The king has three daughters…two of them are married. The Princess Renner is not."

"You got it exactly right. While an argument could be made for the oldest of the King's daughters to inherit, if you were to get enough of the nobles to support you, she could be passed up for her youngest sister… who would be married to your son. Thus, making you the father-in-law to the queen and father to the king consort, grandfather of the future king. You'd be the most powerful man in Re-Estize, and you could lead it into a Golden Era."

"That's…" the noble swallowed his saliva. "That's treason."

"Only if we lose." Demiurge whispered, and faded back into the shadows.

Satisfied, Demiurge took his leave.

As he left the mansion, he reminisced over what he had told the noble. It was pure hogwash, of course, but that noble wouldn't be the only one he'd feed such sweet little lies to. There were dozens, a veritable tribe of the fools, all written in his notes, and he could wrap each of them around his little finger.

Once he did and had them dancing to a specific tune, he'd eventually cut them loose and enjoy the chaos they caused as they tried to move without the aid of the puppeteer, flinging Re-Estize into chaos while Demiurge focused on his real plans using his real chosen servants.

Truth be told, words were wind, and Demiurge had no intention of honoring his whispers and deals, but they didn't know that… all he needed was the nobles to act even more treasonously to their liege than they had before. How this manifested was irrelevant.

He cast a final glance at the mansion. The pieces were falling into place. Soon, Re-Estize would be ripe for conquest, and all would bow before the supreme power of Nazarick.

"Happy is he who toils for his master's sake," Demiurge murmured to himself, before his lips hummed a sweet tune. His gem-like eyes were positively shining with anticipation at the sweet terrors he'd soon unleash on this wretched nation. The kingdom's downfall was inevitable, and he would ensure that it was a spectacle worthy of Lord Ainz's greatness.

And if Demiurge had a little fun while it happened, what was so wrong with that?

 

[Not_So_Dark_One]

I love the alternate timeline you are building around Remiel here. Looking forward to more.

 

[Lillie Jones]

Demiuge thoughts are always good riot to read in the takedown of Lord Ainz Gown contest, and Fluder and Jin share in the conspiracy with Ramiel for taking down one down of his rivial Marcus as Jin has become a laughing mad man after become Ramiel puppet/ instrument weapon on the corruption of E Rantel Underworld belly.
Continue on
Cheers!

 

[BenMalek]

I command thee, rise​

In a dimly lit inn room, Ainz Ooal Gown sat with Nabe by his side, his skeletal brow furrowing in concentration while reading a book. A bright flash of light manifested itself inside the room, and Remiel appeared. Ainz looked up, his skeletal face betraying no emotion as he sighted the already kneeling Remiel. Instantly he bid her to rise with his hand.

"Ah, Remiel," Ainz began, "You're here to bring a report of your activities in Baharuth, correct?"

Remiel nodded, her expression confident. "Yes, my Lord. The Baharuth Empire is effectively under our control, though they don't know it. Both the Emperor and Fluder Paradyne are now our puppets, ensuring their loyalty to Nazarick. As far as we're concerned, that flank is secure."

An unruler-like sound of 'Nani!?' came out from Lord Ainz's throat, but was swiftly covered up by a cough. Afterwards Ainz's red eyes glowed with satisfaction.

"Already? Impressive, very impressive. Excellent work. Your efficiency is commendable, especially considering Demiurge is still entangled in his operations in Re-Estize."

Remiel allowed herself a small smile. "Thank you, Lord Ainz. I did notice Lupusregina wasn't present. May I ask why?"

Ainz's tone turned stern. "Lupusregina is currently being disciplined. She killed a potentially valuable asset, the Serpent of the West, without my orders. Such recklessness cannot go unpunished."

"I see," Remiel replied, her voice steady. "It is unfortunate, but I understand the necessity. I could resurrect the asset, if you wish it to be so."

Ainz waved her away. "That's unnecessary. It's less about the beast being useful and more about Lupusregina losing control where she shouldn't have."

At that point, Narberal Gamma commented from the side. "It was quite a bloody sight. I didn't think my sister had such ferocity in her."

Ainz leaned forward, his gaze inquisitive. "But enough about her. Tell me, how exactly did you manage to subjugate the two most important people in Baharuth? And so soon?"

Remiel took a deep breath, her tone measured. "I first took Fluder. With him, his obsession with magic was the key. The man is practically addicted to knowledge, and he's been hungering for magical power all his life. A sufficient show of force as well as some promises, secured his undying loyalty to Nazarick. As for the Emperor Jircniv, I went another route, promising death and destruction should he refuse to submit. I already had a decent grasp of his personality from second-hand sources, most of whom claimed he was intelligent, and intelligent people, the sane ones at least, are predictable and tend to be risk-averse, wary of events they cannot predict or control and they fear losing what they have worked to earn. Thus, all it took was a bit of theatricality and a threat to his life and he wisely decided he'd rather remain a living Emperor instead of a dead man."

Nabe, who had been silent, interjected, "Impressive. But are they completely loyal, or is there a chance of betrayal?"

Remiel shook her head. "Their loyalty is secured through a combination of fear, ambition, and the allure of greater power. However, I do think Fluder's loyalty is a tad greater. In time he'll probably become quite zealous. As for Jircniv, we can keep him until one of his children, groomed for rulership of Baharuth and servitude to Nazarick, comes of age. On the way, maybe we can also experiment with trying to breed potentially beneficial genetic traits from valuable humans or godkin into the Imperial bloodline. It's an idea of Demiurge's. I talked about it briefly with him via [Message], but it can be shelved and taken up again in a decade or so. Regardless, both Jircniv and Fluder understand that betrayal means certain death."

Ainz nodded thoughtfully. "Very well. Now, I've heard rumors from Albedo that you brought an outsider into Nazarick. Explain yourself."

"Albedo is correct. I found a slave girl in an auction house and brought her to my room.Her name is Perska," Remiel began, "She is an orphan from a remote village that was destroyed by Theocracy forces."

"The Theocracy?" Ainz queried.

"They are at war with the dark elves. I don't know much more about the war besides the fact that it's the source of most of the elven slaves in the region." Remiel responded.

Ainz took in her words and nodded. "Continue." He bid her.

"Her case is interesting. Apparently, her biological father is the Elf King. He is known for a few things. His strength, his cruelty, his propensity for rape - Nabe tisked. "-his negligence toward his people, and also his heterochromatic eyes." At the last bit, Ainz's flaming eyes burned ever brighter.

"Heterochromatic eyes?" He asked.

"Just like Aura and Mare. The girl shares the same trait… One eye blue, the other green" Remiel said.

A moment of silence fell upon them.


"It's… one of the reasons I took her in. When I saw her there, being sold as meat, I saw Aura in her place, and a great anger was roused within me. I took the girl from those who sold her like meat and then brought vengeance on them, both the man who bought her and the man who sold her."


Another moment of silence fell, this time even more tense. "What did you do to the men?" Ainz said in a chilling voice.

"One of them is dead, the other wishes he was." Remiel replied.

"Good." Was the only word heard from the mouth of the skeletal undead.


"Also, I thought it might be beneficial for Aura and Mare to be around others of their kind, to make some friends and learn from. But I must concede, the main reason I brought the girl into Nazarick was selfishness, it was my own sentimentality." Remiel said as she bowed her head.

"I will not chastise you for it. You are simply acting according to your nature. You are free to follow it as long as your actions do not compromise Nazarick. And besides, the girl may prove useful. Does she have any abilities?"

"It appears like she's just a regular child, though her mother did train her to be a pharmacist before they were separated."

Ainz cupped his pointy calcium-rich chin. "Hmm… we could do experiments. We don't know how the natives here grow in strength."

"An excellent idea, Lord Ainz. The girl may be useless now, but with enough training she may serve as a suitable meatshield." Nabe commented from the side, and Remiel gave her a stinkeye in reply.

"Well, it's decided then." Ainz said. "Remiel, I'll leave it to you to take care of the girl's schooling and introduction to Nazarick. I want regular updates on the girl's strength, in whichever way it may manifest. If this Elf King is powerful and the girl is his descendant, she may have hidden depths."

"Thank you, my Lord." Remiel bowed her head.

"Oh, and feel free to introduce her to the twins in the coming days. Mare should be free once he finishes his work on concealing Nazarick. As a matter of fact, I'll also attend the meeting between the three of them. I'm curious."


Curiosity lingered in Remiel's mind. "May I ask, what exactly are Demiurge's activities in Re-Estize?"

"He is implementing his plans to destabilize the kingdom from within, sowing discord and manipulating key figures to our advantage," Ainz replied. "His progress is steady, but it will take time to fully achieve our goals there. But between your swift actions in Baharuth and Demiurge's meticulous work in Re-Estize, our influence is spreading well. I will read your detailed report later. For now, consider what reward you might want for your service."

Remiel considered for a moment before speaking. "I desire no reward save the opportunity to continue to serve you loyally."

Ainz shook his head. "I'd argue that I insist you receive a reward, but you'll just claim otherwise and we'll run around in circles. We'll talk of rewards some other time."

Remiel nodded. "Very well, my Lord."

"You have my permission to proceed as you did so far and act as you deem fit. You have my trust, and your dedication and efficiency continue to be invaluable to Nazarick. Keep up the good work."

Remiel bowed deeply. "I will not disappoint you, my Lord." With that, she disappeared in a flash of bright light, her mind already racing with plans for the future.

---

Fluder Paradyne sat at his desk, the late morning light streaming through the window of his study. Books and scrolls were scattered about as he meticulously penned his latest findings. His thoughts lingered on the tense meeting earlier with Emperor Jircniv and his council. The emperor's pale face and hollow eyes were a testament to the weight of their current predicament.

"The sooner he accepts his position, the better it will be for him. He'll find freedom in service, and his worries will wash away once he understands," Fluder mused.

The sudden flash of bright blue light and the distinctive sound of teleportation pulled Fluder from his thoughts. He turned to see Remiel, his new mistress, materialize in his chamber. Instantly, he jumped from his seat and prostrated himself.

"Great One," Fluder greeted her, not daring to lift his face. "You honor me with your presence. How can I assist you this morning?"

Remiel took in his prostrated form before her eyes briefly scanned the room. "Rise, Fluder." She commanded, and he did so. "I understand you had a meeting with the emperor this morning."

Fluder sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Yes, it was... challenging. Jircniv is under immense pressure. The situation with the nobles and the purge has left him rattled."

"But it will be done, yes?" Remiel inquired sharply.

"Yes, it will all go as you wish it, though the timescale may be extended a bit… having the purge be spread out is what the Emperor decided to do."

Remiel tisked, a sound that hit Fluder's heart like a hammer. "Fine, I suppose it's unavoidable," she said as her eyes narrowed. "And what of your task, Fluder? Have you made any progress in collecting the knowledge I seek?"

Fluder nodded, motioning to a stack of ancient tomes on his desk. "I have begun compiling texts on the real history and origin of the Six Great Gods and the Eight Greed Kings, but I have not yet had time to go over the other topics."

Remiel walked over to the desk, her fingers grazing the spine of one of the books. "Focus on this first. Your efforts are appreciated, Fluder. But remember, time is of the essence. I require this knowledge to further our plans. I can't go around stumbling in the dark."

Fluder bowed his head. "I understand. I will not rest until I have gathered all that you need."

Remiel's gaze shifted to a portrait on the wall, depicting Fluder with his students. "Tell me about your students. Have any of them shown promise?"

Fluder's face tightened with a mix of pride and frustration. "My brightest student, Sophie, shows some potential, but she is only of the fourth tier. None of them have come close to achieving what I had hoped for."

Remiel tilted her head. "And what of Arche, the one who dropped out?"

"Arche had potential," Fluder replied with a hint of sadness. "But her family issues drew her away from her studies. It is a great loss."

Remiel's eyes softened for a moment. "It is always a tragedy when potential goes unrealized. Tell me of the other one, that genius who blew himself up. What kind of student was he?"

Fluder's heart twinged with sadness at the mention of the student. He quickly composed himself. "The boy's name was Karl. He was lowborn, but not exactly a peasant. His mother was a seamstress and his father a stonemason."

Remiel took a seat, her curiosity piqued. "That type of lineage doesn't seem very conducive to magical research."

"Indeed. However, the boy was incredibly bright. His parents knew it ever since he was a toddler. They claimed he taught himself magic at four, nearly burning their house down."

Remiel glared. "A four-year-old nearly burned his house down? How is that special? It could've been a random candle."

"Not according to them. They begged at the academy for the boy to be tested. Skeptical, I agreed, thinking it a scheme. But when we put the boy in a testing environment, he summoned a fiery sprite that burned a straw puppet."

"A fiery sprite?"

"Like... no larger than a small kitten. It was somewhat aware and seemed to be the boy's friend. It had shown up when some boys were bullying him. The sprite grew as he did, standing as tall as an ogre by the time the boy was sixteen."

"How did he blow himself up?"

"The boy was practicing alchemy in his laboratory. He was always safe. Then one day, we heard a terrifying explosion and the crackling of flame. Only his charred remains were found."

"What tier was he at the time of his death?"

"Fourth tier, like Sophie. But while Sophie is a researcher, the boy was a jack-of-all-trades."

Remiel's eyes gleamed with interest. "I have time to burn now that I've finished in Baharuth. Let's go talk to him."

"He's dead."

"That won't be a problem. I'll bring him back."

"How is that possible? He is probably little more than ashes and bones by now!"

"I can bring him back. I'll return your student to you, Fluder."

"Truly? Then, Great One, let me take you to where he is buried." Fluder prostrated himself once more.

"Oh, and Fluder. Bring a shovel. I'm not going to dig for him."

"Of course."

---

Fuder stood in the scarcely visited cemetery on the outskirts of Baharuth, directing a skeletal minion wielding a shovel. The sky was bright and clear, the sunlight filtering through the trees. Remiel, standing beside him, glanced around and waved her hand, summoning dark clouds that soon unleashed a gentle rain, masking their actions. The action did not at all surprise Fluder.

Even he was capable of weather manipulation, though this was a step above.

"The boy's parents wanted him buried here," Fluder explained. "They paid for it out of their own pocket, which is why it's not an elaborate tombstone."

As the skeleton dug, Fluder continued, "Resurrection spells can backfire. Weak beings' remains can turn to ashes, or they can turn into undead. Remains are necessary for resurrection as far as I know."

Remiel, undeterred, replied, "Do not doubt me, mortal. Doubt your own knowledge. You have sworn yourself to me; go all the way. The spell I will use is a 9th tier spell called [True Resurrection]. It can bring a target back even if there's no remains or if the target was low-leveled."

Fluder nodded, awed and a bit nervous, as the skeletal minion continued its task. The rain intensified, shrouding the cemetery in a cloak of secrecy.

Remiel turned to Fluder, "Tell me more about the boy. How did he come to your attention?"

Fluder sighed, his eyes reflecting a mixture of sadness and pride. "He was exceptional. Despite his humble origins, his potential was evident. He had a natural affinity for magic, and the fire sprite he controlled was devastating in combat, especially against the undead. He was curious and driven. His talents grew rapidly under my guidance. But he grew prideful and solitary, which I suppose was to be expected. With nothing to call his own and nothing to inherit, he took pride in his mind, which was the only thing he had, really."

"Pride comes before the fall. Have you heard of this saying?" Remiel asked, her tone thoughtful.

"Can't say that I have, but it certainly sounds wise. Is it one of your own sayings?"

"Not quite. I read it in a book. I may give it to you to read someday."


Fluder nodded thoughtfully.


"It is a shame he met such an untimely end." Remiel continued. "But his story is not yet over. What of his family? How did they take his death?"

"His parents were devastated," Fluder replied, his voice tinged with regret. "They believed in his potential, and his death was a crushing blow. They buried him here, and grieved his memory."

Remiel's gaze softened slightly. "Their grief will soon turn to joy. I am curious, however, what is the view here of life after death?"

Fluder pondered the question before responding. "The various races and cultures within the World all have their own beliefs about the afterlife. For instance, the Slane Theocracy believes in their six gods, and that their death god rules over the afterlife. Other races, like the elves and dwarves, have their own myths and legends about what happens after death, often tied to their cultural and spiritual beliefs." Fluder elaborated. He paused and took a breath before continuing.

"As an example, I have heard that the dwarves say they 'return to the stone' which is to say they return to nonexistence and non-sentience yet continue to support their people by becoming part of the earth, which they venerate. And some of the elves believe that they are to be buried in the earth, and once their bodies decay, their spirits dwell in the trees and become a part of nature."

Remiel chuckled. "How cute."

"Yes, quite." Fluder said. "Personally, I was always a skeptic in this matter. The existence of undead creatures suggests a more complex relationship with the afterlife, often seen as souls forcibly bound to the mortal plane. There are those who claim that souls return to the World itself, in some great and incomprehensible and immaterial place which is the fate of all souls. There, those souls are not aware of anything, but still exist."

Remiel took his words in, but did not respond, and stared at the skeleton digging with the shovel.

"Teacher, may I ask, what is the truth about these things?" Fluder asked.


"Good question. For this world, I can't exactly say, because I do not know." Remiel stated curtly.


The response shocked Fluder. "You… don't know?"

"Correct. Now, where I come from, in that world, death was more of a temporary inconvenience than a permanent state," Remiel said, her eyes distant. "The dead, be they Players or NPCs or whatever it may be, came back to life, sooner or later, though usually weakened. As a matter of fact..."

Her voice trailed off, and she stared into the distance, her eyes blank and her face unresponsive.

Fluder panicked. "Remiel? Remiel, can you hear me?" He called out to her, but there was no response. He reached out with his hand toward her shoulder, ready to shake her awake but…

After a tense moment, Remiel blinked and shook her head, her bright hair swaying from side to side as she seemed to regain her senses. "Forgive me. A momentary lapse."

Fluder sighed in relief. "I thought I had lost you."

"It was nothing," she assured him. "Now, where were we?"

Fluder contemplated how to answer before he chose a fairly neutral and safe response. "We were discussing the untimely demise of my student."

Remiel's eyes narrowed. In the meantime, the skeleton continued to dig. "Ah, yes. Potential squandered is a tragedy. But perhaps we can still salvage something from this. Fluder, tell me more about your abilities. How does someone as old as you still live?"

Fluder took a deep breath, pondering where to begin. "I am often called the Tri-Arts Magic Caster because I have mastered three distinct schools of magic: arcane, divine, and spiritual. This mastery has earned me respect and recognition throughout the human nations."

Remiel's interest was piqued. "And what of your longevity? How does a mortal man live to be as old as you are?"

Fluder nodded. "Around a hundred and thirty years ago, I performed a complex ritual to grant myself immortality. It involved the sacrifice of many magical creatures and items, as well as deep introspection about the nature of magic itself. However, the ritual did not grant me true immortality. Instead, it significantly slowed my aging process, allowing me to live far longer than any normal human."

"And the details of this ritual?" Remiel pressed.

"The ritual required a vast amount of magical energy, rare ingredients, and precise incantations," Fluder explained. "I began by first collecting all the things I needed, most of which came from various magical creatures and monsters. I used the blood of a vampire I slew, as it is known that vampire blood can be used in alchemy to help rejuvenate someone. I combined the blood with the essence of a rejuvenating flower called the Everbloom, and magical crystals filled to the brim with mana. Additionally, I incorporated parts of long-lived animals, such as the shell of an ancient tortoise and the essence of an immortal jellyfish, both known for their longevity."

He continued, "The centerpiece of the ritual was the heart of a Dragon Lord, a rare and potent artifact. I performed the ritual within a large bonfire, using its flames to boil the ingredients into a potent elixir. This fire, infused with powerful magical energies, helped in the transmutation process."

Fluder's expression grew distant, reminiscing about the process. "The ritual was extremely dangerous and arduous. The elixir I created was meant to transfer and extend life by drawing from the essence of the Dragon Lord and the vitality of the other components. When I drank it, I felt myself being burned from the inside. The toll it took on my body and mind was immense. I would not recommend such a procedure to anyone lightly. The results, however, allowed me to continue my quest for knowledge and power."

Remiel's eyes gleamed with interest. "Impressive dedication. For now, you'll remain human, but in the future, I may correct that."

"Correct it?" Fluder asked, his voice tinged with surprise.

"Yes. There are various races which don't age, and I am one of them. Using a simple race-change item, you should be able to become a member of one of these races and thus evade the ravages of time."

Fluder's eyes widened, a mix of astonishment and gratitude washing over him. "I... I am deeply honored by your offer. To think that such a possibility exists... It's beyond anything I could have imagined."

Remiel nodded, a slight smile playing on her lips. "I won't have my servant die to something as stupid as old age. If you are to die for me, it'll be in battle, not in your bed."

Fluder bowed deeply, his voice filled with emotion. "Thank you, Great One. I am truly grateful. The prospect of continuing my studies and exploring the depths of magic without the constraints of time... It is more than I could have ever hoped for."

The skeletal minion finally hit something solid with its shovel. Fluder gestured for it to continue, and soon the rough wooden coffin was unearthed. Fluder's heart pounded as he looked at the final resting place of his most talented student.

"Stand back," Remiel commanded. Fluder stepped aside, his eyes fixed on her.

Remiel looked at the remains with a critical eye. The once proud and brilliant Karl was now reduced to a skeletal frame, his bones brittle and covered in the remnants of his burial clothes. She reached down and picked up the skull, examining it closely.

"The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?" Remiel mused. Her gaze was intense as she stared at the skull, reflecting on the ephemeral nature of existence.

She gently placed the skull back into the coffin, her eyes glinting with determination. "But today, we defy time and death itself."

"[True Resurrection]," she intoned, as she raised her hand and a great number of arcane sigils began to float in the air around her hand. A brilliant light enveloped the coffin, and Fluder watched in awe as the spell took effect.

The light faded, and the coffin lid creaked open. Fluder's breath caught in his throat as he saw Karl, alive and whole, his flesh unblemished and his clothes worn down and decayed, sitting up, looking around in confusion with his bright brown eyes.

At that moment, Fluder's heart was filled with joy.

"Wh... where am I?" Karl mumbled, his voice shaky and weak. His eyes darted around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He tried to speak further, but only incoherent murmurs escaped his lips.

"You are back," Remiel said, a faint smile on her lips. "Welcome once more to the land of the living, boy. You have much to learn, and much to do."

Karl's eyes found Fluder, and recognition slowly dawned on his face. He tried to speak again, but his voice was still too weak, and his words came out as mumbles. However, the boy did not do anything else, as though he was genuinely confused, his trust in his teacher was such that he was willing to wait for an explanation.

Fluder fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. "Thank you, Great One. Thank you for bringing him back."

Remiel turned to him, her expression inscrutable. "Remember this moment, Fluder. There is much work to be done, and I expect your utmost dedication. Do not fail me."

Fluder nodded fervently, still overcome with emotion. "I will not fail you, Great One."

Remiel gave a curt nod. "That was a resounding success." She said as she nodded before continuing to speak. "Later today, I will bring a former slave, a young dark elf girl named Perska, to you. She is to be enrolled in the academy and provided with a private tutor."

Fluder looked up, curiosity mixing with his lingering awe. "A dark elf slave? May I ask—"

Remiel cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Her past is of no concern. What matters is her future potential. I believe she has potential, at the very least as an alchemist. You will ensure she receives the education she needs and deserves."

Fluder bowed his head. "Of course, Great One. I will see to it personally."

Remiel's gaze softened slightly. "Perska has endured much, but often it is that very same crucible that forges the strong. Treat her with the same dedication you would any of your finest students."

Fluder nodded once more, determination filling his heart. "I will. Thank you for this opportunity."

Remiel's expression returned to its usual inscrutability. "Do not disappoint me, Fluder. Remember the weight of the gifts and responsibilities you bear."

Fluder felt a renewed sense of purpose surging through him. He had been given so many gifts, and he was determined not to squander them. With steady hands and focused resolve, he approached Karl's grave.

"You won't need to spend even a moment here any longer." Fluder said.

With a deep breath, the old man knelt beside the coffin and began to help Karl out of the grave. Though Fluder was an old man, he was not a complete physical weakling. After a few moments where the boy struggled to control his limbs, he eventually managed to leave the grave. Once outside, Karl looked around in confusion, and as the reality of his situation dawned on him, he tried to vomit. Unfortunately, his stomach was empty, and all he managed was a painful grimace. Fluder's heart ached at the sight, but he knew it would soon pass after Karl had a warm meal.

Once Karl was freed from his former resting place, Fluder wasted no time. He summoned his mastery over earth magic to begin filling in the grave, while Remiel's wind magic swept the debris and remnants away with practiced precision.

The ground began to shift and settle, the grave being quickly restored to a decent state. Although rumors of the boy's resurrection would likely spread, Fluder was never one to leave a mess when it wasn't necessary.

Seemingly satisfied with his work, Remiel nodded at Fluder and spoke. "Well, now that we're done here, let's return to your office."

Without hesitation, Fluder grabbed Karl by the arm and approached Remiel, dragging the boy behind him. Remiel waited until they were sufficiently close, before her teleportation spell enveloped them in a shimmering light. With a flash, they vanished from the graveyard.

Moments later, they reappeared in the grandeur of Fluder's study. The room was lined with shelves of magical tomes and artifacts, the air filled with peace. As the shimmering light faded, Karl's stomach growled loudly, breaking the silence.

Remiel raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly. "Ah, the hunger of the freshly revived. Here, have a fishstick." She reached into her inventory and pulled out a fishstick, which she handed to Karl.

Karl accepted the fishstick with eager hands and devoured it ravenously, as if he hadn't eaten in days. Or years. Which he hadn't, really.

Fluder watched the scene with a bemused expression. "I never knew being dead made you so hungry," he remarked, shaking his head.

As Karl continued to eat, Fluder's mind raced with plans and possibilities. This was just the beginning. He would gather the knowledge Remiel sought and ensure that his students reached their full potential. For the future of Baharuth and the glory of his Great One, he would not falter.

As Karl's stomach continued to rumble, Fluder and Remiel exchanged a glance. Remiel's laugh was hearty and loud, and she began rummaging through her inventory again, ready to address Karl's newfound appetite.

 

[Lillie Jones]

Impressive
Whilst Ramiel returns to Nazarcick to report her recent developments to Overlord Ainz Gown and new recruiters Peska and Emperor Jin , Fluder for Nazarcick mysterious plans and what's Demiuge been on his side of the E Rantel Noble society.
Unexpectedly, Ramiel return to Fluder Magic School for reviving one of his promising students Karl ( a boy version of Shizu cause he summoned an fire spirit like Efirit. Along with ensuring his loyalty and upping hie fanaticism of the Great One Ramiel.
Continue on
Cheers!

 

[BenMalek]

Gharq dar Tandis-hā-ye Guzashteh​

Remiel gazed at the mountain, her mountain, on the 8th floor of Nazarick, the air crisp and cool against her skin. The ever-present storm that shrouded the mountain's peak continued to rage, never ceasing, and one would not make a mistake in thinking the storm was alive and desired victims to unleash its wrath upon.

After teleporting past the storm to the mountain's peak, her eyes fell upon a small figure playing with the Brave Lioness she had summoned earlier. The creature's golden fur glistened in the sunlight, and it seemed to be enjoying the company of the young elf girl, Perska. Perska's laughter filled the air, a delightful sound that brought a smile to Remiel's face.

"Perska," Remiel called out, her voice gentle yet commanding.

The young elf looked up, her eyes widening with joy. She immediately dropped the stick she had been using to play with the Brave Lioness and rushed towards Remiel, her small feet barely touching the ground.

"Remiel!" Perska exclaimed, throwing herself into Remiel's arms.

Remiel hugged her tightly, feeling the warmth and innocence of the child seep into her. "Hello, little one. I hope you've not been terribly bored while I've been away."

Perska nodded enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling. "Yes! I mean no! The Brave Lioness is so much fun. She's so strong and kind. And she lets me play with her tail."

Remiel chuckled. "I wouldn't recommend yanking the tail of a lion. I'm pretty sure there's a saying for that. But, I'm glad you like her," Remiel said, stroking Perska's hair. "But I need to talk to you about something important."

Perska's expression turned serious, and she stepped back, looking up at Remiel with curiosity. "Yes?"

Remiel knelt down to Perska's level, her eyes meeting the young elf's. "Perska, I want you to go to the Imperial Magic Academy, in Baharuth. I want you to learn magic and pharmacy there."

Perska's eyes widened in fear, and she took a step back. "The Academy… What's that?"

"It's like a very big school, and there's all kinds of young people there, and they're all there to learn."

"But... but the Academy.. It'll be filled with humans, right? I'm scared of them."

Remiel placed a comforting hand on Perska's shoulder. "I understand your fear, little one. They wronged you and your family, but not all of them are as bad as you imagine them to be. At the Academy, you'll have the opportunity to learn and grow. You'll become stronger and more knowledgeable."

"But what if they don't like me?" Perska whispered, her voice trembling.

Remiel smiled reassuringly. "What's there not to like? You're a joy, and they will see that. And I'll make sure you are protected. Fluder Paradyne, the head of the Academy, is a powerful and wise man. He will ensure your safety and give you the education you deserve. And he's also my servant, so he has vested interest in keeping you safe."

Perska bit her lip, still unsure. "But why can't I stay here and learn from you?"

"Because," Remiel said gently, "I believe you can achieve great things at the Academy. You'll have access to resources and knowledge that I can't provide here. That, and I too am busy and must work, and that means spending time away from you, for days perhaps. You don't want to stay trapped up here on this mountain with days on end, with no one to keep you company but the flowers, do you?"

Perska looked back at the Brave Lioness, who was now lying down, watching them with calm, golden eyes. The lioness gave a soft rumble, as if encouraging Perska.

"Do you really think I can do it?" Perska asked, her voice a mixture of hope and doubt.

"I know you can," Remiel said firmly. "You have a bright future ahead of you, Perska. The Academy is just the first step towards achieving your full potential."

Perska took a deep breath, her fear slowly giving way to determination. "Okay," she said finally. "I'll go to the Academy. I'll learn magic there. And I'll make you proud, Miss Remiel."

Remiel smiled, her heart swelling with pride as she patted the girl's head. "I'm sure you will. Now, let's go and prepare for your journey."

---

Remiel and Perska stood at the gates of the Imperial Magic Academy, the grandeur of the place only slightly intimidating to the young elf. Fluder Paradyne, with his long white beard and wise eyes, awaited them, a gentle smile on his face.

"Fluder, this is Perska," Remiel said, introducing the girl. "She will be under your care and guidance."

Fluder's eyes softened as he looked at Perska. "Welcome, Perska. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Perska clung to Remiel's side, her fear of humans still evident. Fluder knelt down to her level, his smile warm and reassuring. "You don't need to be afraid, my dear. The Academy is a place of learning and wonder."

To ease her nerves, Fluder waved his hand, casting a small spell. The air around them shimmered, and a cascade of colorful fireworks erupted above their heads, each explosion forming a beautiful pattern in the sky. Perska's eyes widened in amazement, her fear momentarily forgotten.

"Wow!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up with delight.

Fluder chuckled softly. "Magic can be quite wondrous, can't it? And you will learn to create such wonders yourself."

Remiel gently nudged Perska forward. "Go on, girl. Fluder will take good care of you."

Perska looked up at Remiel, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and excitement. "Will you visit me?"

"Of course," Remiel assured her. "I'll visit whenever I can. But I'm very busy, so I can't spend much time with you right now. Next time I visit, I'll show you some grand sights and introduce you to two other dark elf children, the twins Aura and Mare. They would be great friends together."

Perska's face brightened at the prospect. "Really? That sounds amazing!"

Fluder extended his hand to Perska, who hesitated for a moment before taking it. "Come, Perska. Let me show you around the Academy."

As they walked through the grand hallways of the Academy, Fluder pointed out various rooms and areas. "This is the library, where you will find books on every subject imaginable. And over there is the potion lab, where you will learn the art of pharmacy."

Perska's eyes were wide with wonder as she took in her new surroundings. "It's so big."

Fluder smiled. "Indeed it is. But you will soon grow accustomed to it. And you will have many friends here."

He led her to a large classroom, where several students were practicing their spells. "This is where you will learn to harness your magic. The teachers here are very knowledgeable and will help you every step of the way."

Perska looked up at Fluder, her fear slowly dissipating. "Do you think I can really do it?"

Fluder knelt down beside her, his eyes kind and encouraging. "I believe so. I have heard that you have talent, and we will help you nurture it."

Perska smiled, her confidence growing. "Thank you, Mister Fluder."

"Now," Fluder said, standing up, "let's get you settled into your new room. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

As they walked down the hallway, Perska glanced back at the entrance, where Remiel had stood.

Fluder led Perska through the winding hallways of the Imperial Magic Academy, his presence calming her nerves. They stopped at a large wooden door adorned with intricate carvings of magical symbols.

"This will be your room, Perska," Fluder said, opening the door to reveal a cozy, well-furnished dormitory room. It had two beds, each with a small desk and a bookshelf beside it. The room was warm and inviting, with sunlight streaming in through a large window.

A human girl about Perska's size was already inside, organizing her belongings on her side of the room. She had chestnut brown hair tied back in a loose braid, and her green eyes sparkled with curiosity and friendliness. She wore a neat blue-ish uniform that consisted of a jacket with gold buttons, a white blouse underneath, and a knee-length skirt. The uniform was both practical and stylish, reflecting the academy's blend of tradition and modernity.

The girl looked up as they entered, a smile spreading across her face. "Hello! You must be Perska. I'm Elara."

Perska hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, glancing back at Fluder for reassurance. He nodded encouragingly. "Go on, Perska. Elara is very friendly."

Elara walked over and extended her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Perska. I'm really excited to have a roommate. We'll have so much fun together!"

Perska shook her hand, a shy smile forming on her lips. "Nice to meet you too, Elara."

Elara's enthusiasm was infectious. "I'm so glad you're here! I love reading and experimenting with new spells, especially anything related to elemental magic. I also enjoy gardening; we have a little garden here at the academy where herbs and flowers are grown. What about you? What do you like to do?"

Perska glanced at Fluder again, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "I... I like reading too. And, um, learning about different plants."

Fluder watched the interaction with a pleased expression. He could see that Perska was beginning to warm up to her new surroundings, and Elara's friendly demeanor was certainly helping. And though he did not know why his teacher wanted the girl trained, he would obey her commands nonetheless.

As Elara continued to chat excitedly about their shared interests, Fluder gently closed the door, leaving the two girls to get acquainted. He knew that Perska was in good hands and that she would thrive at the Academy.

With a final glance back, he walked down the hallway, his mind already turning to the work that he was commissioned to do. His Great One had that her business in Arwintar was mostly concluded, and it'd be a while before they saw each other again. Until such a time came, Fluder would obey her orders and devote his hours diligently, while meditating on what went on inside such an incomprehensible mind.

---

Walking through the bustling streets of the Imperial Capital, I found myself lost in a fog of memories, the recent encounter with Fluder still haunting my thoughts. The city around me thrived with activity: merchants called out their wares, children laughed and played, and the clatter of horse-drawn carriages resonated on the cobblestone streets. Yet, I felt a profound detachment, my mind wandering through the corridors of my mind.

As Fluder had asked about the nature of the afterlife, I recalled moments from my own lifetime, or rather lifetimes? Whatever it may be, those memories seemed to have surfaced unbidden. Memories of ceremonies and celebrations, both joyous and solemn, flickered in my mind like old photographs.

I remembered attending a grand wedding, the bride radiant in her white gown, the groom standing tall and proud beside her. The hall had been filled with laughter and music, the air thick with the scent of fresh flowers. I had watched from the sidelines, a silent observer to their happiness, feeling both connected and apart. Like I never really belonged there, like it was all just for show.

Another memory surfaced of a funeral, a stark contrast to the wedding's joy. The somber tones of the priest's voice as he delivered the eulogy, the weeping mourners clad in black, and the heavy scent of incense filled the small chapel. I had stood at the back, contemplating the fragile nature of life and the inevitability of death, emotions too complex to untangle swirling within me. I don't even know who it was that died and was buried, who they were to me, or where and when it happened, but the event was there, in my mind.

Religious services were another constant in my past, their rituals and prayers a backdrop to my existence. I remembered the soft hum of hymns, the flickering candles casting shadows on ancient stone walls, and the feeling of reverence that permeated the space. These moments, steeped in tradition and faith, had always left me with a sense of peace, yet also a longing for answers that remained elusive. A question asked over and over again. Why?

As I continued to walk, the lively scenes of street performers and festival celebrations came to mind. The people or Arwintar seemed to be rather careless and callous towards the crimes of their countrymen. But can I blame them? They must rise and go out and work then sleep. They are mortal, limited by their biological needs and their own lack of power and understanding. Were I one of them, would I really care about things like justice or purpose, or would I simply care that I have what I need day to day and that I can find some small amount of joy where and when I could?

The vibrant colors, the exuberant dances, and the shared laughter of communities coming together in joy and unity. It seemed that this world had its own joy, unperturbed by the powers that loomed in the shadow, invisible until they struck, like a serpent in the grass.

They carry on with their lives, ever ignorant. They do not know that if Lord Ainz were to give the order, not a single creature would survive. And should they?

They are born, they live, they die, and all that is left of them is the memories others have of them.


Yet, amidst my memories, if they belong to me that is, which I am still somewhat skeptical of, there were darker, more introspective moments. I recalled standing alone in a cemetery, the air thick with the weight of loss. The cold, grey tombstones seemed to echo the silence within my soul. I remember cleaning the tombstone, dirty from the muddy rain, cracked from the heat of the sun. I remember becoming enraged upon seeing a random dog urinate on it, and grabbing a nearby stone, throwing it at the mutt, braining it at that same moment and watching its lifeblood spill, the earth drinking it greedily. I remember thinking that it was a bad moment, a sin, to kill an animal in that manner, and I also remember distinctly enjoying it when the dog died.


I think had often pondered the mysteries of life and death in such places, holy places and cemeteries, grappling with questions that had no clear answers.

Fluder's question about the afterlife had touched a nerve, bringing these memories to the forefront. I had seen so much in my time, experienced the full spectrum of human emotion, yet I know that by my nature I am ageless. I do not 'grow' nor do I grow old. As I am now, I have always been that way and I always will be. And before coming to this World, I had never left the Great Tomb.

The dead back in Yggdrasil had always returned, a temporary state, a mere speedblock, rather than a permanent one. It was attested from every possible source and every person. But here, in this world, the rules were different. Death was final, that is unless an outside force intervened.

As I walked through the city, I noticed a young couple walking hand in hand, their faces glowing with the excitement of youth and love. I couldn't help but smile, reminded of similar moments I had witnessed in my past. Nearby, a group of children were gathered around a street performer, their eyes wide with wonder as he performed tricks and illusions. Their laughter was infectious, and for a moment, I smiled.

I passed by a small bakery, the scent of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. It brought about a feeling of nostalgia, though I knew not why. What need have I for food, or water, or even air? I don't need those things. I never have.

Continuing my walk, I came upon a birthday celebration in a small courtyard. The guests, both young and old, were gathered around a large table laden with food and gifts. The birthday child, a little girl with sun-kissed skin, tiny white teeth with gaps between them, an infectious smile that went from ear to ear, was wearing a crown of flowers. The girl was beaming with joy. It was a heartwarming scene.

Eventually, I found myself in a park, a serene oasis amidst the city's hustle and bustle. It was no Nazarick, but it was a quaint place that nonetheless offered some measure of peace. Stone benches were scattered around, and a small fountain gurgled softly in the center. The trees, tall and strong oak, provided a canopy of shade, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers.

I sat down on one of the benches, the cool stone a welcome relief. My mind was still a whirlwind of thoughts and memories, but the tranquility of the park helped me find some semblance of peace. I pondered what to do now that Baharuth had effectively been conquered. What to do next? There were so many nations to take care of, and those were just the ones I knew of, the ones in the immediate vicinity.

My thoughts drifted back to a past conversation with a particular man. I remembered the discussion with that priest in E-Rantel, his self-righteousness and narrow-mindedness, and just plain ignorance infuriating me. He dogmatically insisted and spoke with the words that only someone brought up in a belief system that had never questioned it could. The mortal thought he knew what constituted divinity. The fool. I could grasp him by the neck and fly above the atmosphere, and show him that there is nothing above the world but the void between the sun and stars.

In contrast, my conversation with Fluder had been enlightening, though it had stirred up old wounds. When he asked about the afterlife, and my response had been uncertain, my mind clouded with memories of my own experiences.

When I told him about the nature of death in Yggdrasil, my words had trailed off as I became lost in thought.

Among these reflections, one of the most powerful ones was my first moment of existence. I recalled my awakening for the first time in Nazarick. Seeing my creator, Wish III, a powerful genie, filled me with awe. He was a figure of immense power, his presence commanding and enigmatic. I remembered the joy in his eyes when he first saw me awaken, a creator proud of his creation. Yet, there was also a solemnity to him, a weight that he carried. He spoke animatedly with his friends, the fellow Supreme Beings of Nazarick, and bragged to them all the while about me, stating that I was a perfect masterpiece.

Those words made me feel proud to be.

A particular memory stood out: Wish III sitting down next to me, reading from something called the "One Thousand and One Nights." His voice was soothing, each word weaving a tapestry of stories filled with magic and wonder. He did not speak in Japanese, which was and is the language most of the Supreme Being spoke in, but the language he used was a beautiful language nonetheless. I remember wanting to break free at that moment and talk to him about so many things and hug him. But I could not.

I wanted to, but I could not. I never hugged him. He was my father and I never told him that I loved him. Why? What stopped me?

This memory, bittersweet, stood in stark contrast to the brutal defense of Nazarick during the attack by the Eight Guild Alliance. I remembered the chaos, the desperation, and just how much I terrified the mongrels that dared invade my home. It took them more than a dozen to even give me a sweat, yet when I summoned Behemoth and they saw that they could do little to him but make him stronger, they shivered in fear. Nevertheless, they slew the beast, and by that time I had already used my trump cards and my strength was spent. Soon after Behemoth fell, I followed him.

The memory of a spear catching me in the chest, thrown by that shirtless human, the shock and pain as it pierced through me, was vivid and visceral.

I had never hated anyone so much as I hated that man at that moment. He had killed me. He made me fail my duty. I wanted to rip him apart with my own hands.

As I sat on the bench, I couldn't help but wonder what had truly happened in the past and what lay ahead in the future. These memories, how much did they affect who and what I was? I knew that each of the NPCs, including myself, from the maids to the Floor Guardians, had a unique personality, granted to them by their creator.

Like a symphony, each musical instrument was unique, but meant to work in concert, producing something greater than the sum of its parts. Yet…


The sun had begun to set. How long had I lingered here? It was noon when I was at the academy.

No matter.

Yes, the park was a place of solace, a momentary escape from the weight of my thoughts, but I still had work to do, and could not linger here forever.

I have been handed authority from Lord Ainz to act with near complete autonomy. It's a privilege I think only Demiurge and Albedo have been awarded beside myself. It's a sign of his trust in me. It's a sign that I cannot fail.

Baharuth is for all intents and purposes, conquered. Maybe I should visit that priest in E-Rantel once more. I promised myself that I'd smite the man. Once I do, I'll know what I must do next. Perhaps I should visit the Theocracy next?

 

[Faber_The_Builder]

She's slowly waking up. Wonder how she'll assimilate those new memories.

TFC!