A Theory on Godhood: An Overlord Story

Chapter 26: A Work in Progress

Ninth Floor of Nazarick, the Forge

BANG!

Our source of materials is still holding good. Got lots of metal, leather, and whatnot to keep going for probably the next few hundred years.

BANG!

The Abyssal Core itself is just about done. Once that's finished, I could easily multiply a few hundred up to a few thousand.

BANG!

Should have Project Kaiser's designs fully drawn up soon too. Gah! All these cool projects but they'll eat up the materials! That's okay, just finish up the core and-

PING!

"Yes!" Amanomahitotsu, Nazarick's chief blacksmith and crafter, cried out, "It's finally done! After all these years I finally got it done! Booyah!"

The mirelurk gazed affectionately at the still steaming core, parts of his chitin turning slightly red from the heat. His extra claws clacked excitedly in tune with his emotions.

Different segments of his mouth parts chittered as he nodded. "With you, sweet thing, just about all of our material problems disappeared."

"IT IS FINISHED THEN, CREATOR?"

Amanomahitotsu glanced up to his NPC, residing over the massive magma pit of his forge. "You bet it is! Once it's installed you can expect some serious upgrades to your usual abilities. Just gotta wait for it to cool and set into place."

Said being in question clicked in satisfaction, massive blasts of steam erupting across the various seams of its automaton body.

When the blacksmith had first set out to create his very own NPC, he knew that what he wanted was something unique, something useful and, most of all, completely badass to look at.

His love for all things mechanical, and his natural gift to seemingly speak to machines and either fix or replace them in his old life back in Japan had made him a rather successful mechanic for a number of physical technological issues.

Thus, he knew that he wanted something to reflect that very same affection, designing Gore, the mighty living forge, as a result.

All of the mirelurk's items and resources had gone into intricately crafting every single cog and wire, spending hours upon Gore's design and fine tuning it to be able to fully automate the more minute functions of a technological blacksmith forge.

The NPC was a hulking droid who's upper body could smother even someone like Nearata or Connaisdiam, and they were pushing the height limits to the extreme as true dragons.

His armor plating was segmented and more open than a fellow automaton like Amanomahitotsu's guildmate Ra Ra Rasputin. In some places, that meant the large apprentice blacksmith almost appeared skeletal with the exposed machinery.

Each arm ended in a massive, three pronged claw with a number of smaller grabbers extending from the wrist. This ensured a level of such fine precision and control it could work in detail down to the nanometers.

Gore's head was smooth all around, a polished dome of bronze set with a singular, glowing blue optic. It had no lower half, as it was directly connected from the "spine" to an outlet in the center of the smoldering pit of magma.

Another blast of steam. "THIS IS EXCELLENT NEWS. WITH THE ABYSSAL CORE, I CAN BETTER SERVE YOU AND THE REST OF MY MASTERS. A JOYOUS OCCASION INDEED."

Amanomahitotsu hummed in agreement as he put away his hammer and other tools laying around. "Oh yeah. Just give that bad boy a few minutes and we'll really be in business. How're we doing today buddy?"

"INTERNAL DIAGNOSTICS INDICATE THAT ALL SYSTEMS ARE NOMINAL. PRODUCTION HAS INCREASED BY FIVE PERCENT, ALONG WITH OVERALL SATISFACTION. DOES THIS PLEASE YOU?"

"For sure!" The crab replied joyously, "Just so long as you're doing okay and nothing's wrong, I'm always good."

It had not escaped Amanomahitotsu's attention that his relationship with his NPC was not like the others. Many of them, like the floor guardians, Battle Pleiades, and maids, always spoke deferentially to his friends, using titles like "lord" or "lady".

It was fun at first, mostly because it made the blacksmith feel like royalty. The charm of being able to retire back to his room and then be waited on by hand and foot by some of the most gorgeous maids he'd ever had the pleasure of seeing elevated him to Cloud Nine.

Of course, the titles grew somewhat annoying, as he never considered himself truly above anybody in his life. He'd grown up in a stable home with stern but fair parents who'd always instilled in him a sense of respect towards himself and others.

So in the week and a half following his arrival into the New World, as he called the place now, he'd made sure to gently sit down with his own personal maid and explain the situation to her.

"You...don't wish for me to use the proper titles?" She had asked, her button nose scrunching up in confusion. She was an almond haired, green eyed woman named Elysia. Soft spoken but confident in every motion she made.

Amanomahitotsu clacked his pinchers. "Yeah! Just use my regular name! Or shorten it to Amano'. That's what everybody calls me anyways. It doesn't sit right with me being called 'lord' all the time. Kinda feels undeserved."

The youthful maid searched his face, but most of it was covered by the heat resistant goggles and face cloth he adorned. Though his natural face wasn't much more expressive.

"My lord," she started, then winced as she realized her mistake, "Er-Amano', are you certain? Truly, the other maids and I have no problems with the titles. As the Supreme Being of Blacksmithing and Craftsmanship, it is your right to be addressed as so."

"Okay, first off, that's a seriously cool nickname. Second off, it's really okay. I'm good with everything else. All the serving and whatever, but you don't have to use the titles. Just my name will do! Oh, and make sure you tell the other maids too, okay?

Elysia struggled with that, the way her beautiful features contorted, but she eventually agreed all the same. She left not long after that, most likely to inform the others.

Back in the present, the mirelurk blacksmith continued to admire his newest creation, an orb roughly the shape of a basketball that pulsated to the beating of a nonexistent heart.

Much like Gore, it was the color of hammered bronze, but the seams were much tighter and closed up than the larger machine. Simplistic in its design to be sure, but it was what was inside that really counted and made the item so special.

The source of the thrumming glow was an extremely rare item known only as a Duplication Algorithm. A drop from Talos, a minor automaton raid boss that had been found deep within the bowels of the world of Muspellheim back in Yggdrasil.

The boss itself was a hidden Easter egg, apparently an inside joke of some kind according to the developer notes that had been released alongside the update that brought Talos.

Amanomahitotsu wasn't so sure what could be funny about a robot, but he digressed, because that was not his business to know. What was his business was the drop that the raid boss gave after it's defeat.

After countless hours and even days of relentless farming, he'd been able to acquire the Duplication Algorithm, a bright core of energy surrounded by multiple rings of what looked like code. He nearly cried on the spot when he finally held it in his hands.

He rushed back to Nazarick and stored it within a locked cabinet in the forge, ensuring that none of his other guildmates would find out about his newest prize.

Not because Amanomahitotsu distrusted any of his friends, even the mischievous ones. Far from it, but he wanted the project he set out to do to be a complete surprise. A personal "thank you" for all the years of friendship and memories he'd accumulated with the rag tag guild.

But as with all things regarding life, he was slowly and quietly dragged away from the game by the pressures and demands of his work life. It wasn't until he received the email from Momonga to celebrate the last day of Yggdrasil that he truly realized just how much time had passed.

Now he was here, and he would never have to leave behind the people he loved and cared for ever again, if he could help it.

The sound of skittering caught Amanomahitotsu's attention, the blacksmith setting the delicate machinery down on a nearby work table to see whoever saw fit to visit him.

"WELCOME, LORD GENJIRO AND LADY ENTOMA. HOW MIGHT I AND MY CREATOR BE OF SERVICE?" Gore asked, lifting a gigantic limb and giving a small wave.

The arachne made an odd suctioning noise as a greeting back, his much tinier NPC mimicking her maker as she rode on his back. Every so often his limbs would twitch sporadically, but it never affected his movement overall.

"Hey man, what's up?" The mirelurk said, wiping his hands to make sure no spare magma had accidentally seeped its way into the crevices of his chitin.

Genjiro strode up, elevating himself to properly look his friend in the goggles. "Thought I'd come and check up on you. Make sure you weren't becoming a shut-in like Grievous and also to show you something."

"Oh yeah? I thought you and Nearata were having a blast sorting through all the stuff we have in the treasury. Must be pretty important if it tore you away from that."

"Oh man, like you wouldn't believe! But first, what's that on the table behind you?"

Amanomahitotsu turned back to where the Abyssal Core was. "Only the solution to our material problems! I was hoping to get everybody down here and show them, but it looks like you and Entoma will be my first witnesses."

Genjiro tilted his arachnoid head, his mandibles rubbing against each other. "Witnesses to what? How's that orb gonna help fix all our material problems? We have material problems?"

By that point, the blacksmith was hardly listening, his excitement to install the core overruling his desire to continue the conversation. He grasped the item with both of his humanoid hands.

In a move that would have horrified even himself if he were still human, he jumped into the magma of the forge and started wading across to Gore. The intensive heat didn't bother him, on account of his gear and racial resistances specific to his heteromorphic race.

However, his shell did start to darken slightly. A temporary change, and somewhat fun to watch.

As Amanomahitotsu drew closer to his creation and hefted himself up to Gore's chest, he was able to dampen his bubbling excitement and speak.

"Punitto Moe has always been really strict with our item management, which is fair, since so many of us tended to use our stuff whenever the need came up. Potions, scrolls, weapons, armor, clothing, you name it. Of course, in order to make or repair those things, we've always needed raw materials."

"Okay," Genjiro said slowly in his raspy tone, "I think I'm following so far. I'm guessing that sphere you got can help with that?"

"Yes. At least for a good portion of things. See, the main ingredient of this here Abyssal Core is unique, because it belonged to a raid boss that could make smaller versions of itself on the fly, seemingly out of thin air. It wasn't until I heard from an outside source just how important the item that Talos dropped was, that I realized I had to have it."

The massive automaton blacksmith was leaning back, grabbing his creator and lifting up the mirelurk to his chest. Several rib-like plates slid back to reveal a hollow socket with clips to hook onto what would fit inside.

"I guess one of the devs decided to show some love to us blacksmith mains, because the Duplication Algorithm, the item I farmed, is able to melt down a 'donor' item and create a certain amount of identical copies of that material."

"At the expense of the donor item being destroyed?" The trap master asked. "That's...really overpowered. But you said only for a 'certain amount' of things. What's the limit?"

Amanomahitotsu fiddled with some of the wiring of the core, connecting them to corresponding partners within Gore's own chest cavity. Once he was satisfied, he pressed the item into the space, the clips locking in place and securing it.

Gore jolted as if he was electrocuted, his whole frame shuddering from the surge of power that coursed through his circuits and systems. The mirelurk tapped his creation's claws, who promptly dropped him at the unspoken request.

He waded back out, allowing the automaton apprentice to ride out the new surges without interference from him. As he got out of the pit, he used his apron as a make-shift towel to wipe off the liquid rock from his chitin.

"Well, for starters, the core I just installed won't allow Gore to replicate fully made items. Gotta make everything from scratch," the crafter explained, shaking his extra pinchers, "Plus, as we keep duplicating items, it draws a lot of power, so if we do a ton of materials at once, he'll need to recharge for a few days."

Then Amanomahitotsu reached into the abyss of his inventory space, pulling out an ingot of Scarletite. The bright-red metal gleamed in the blazing light of the forge.

He casually tossed the ingot into the pit with a plop, where the intense heat began to melt the metal near instantly into a liquid form. All three heteromorphs watched over the rim as it became molten sludge.

"Just about ready, Gore?" The blacksmith asked.

Said automaton was still twitching, but his greater motor functions seemed to have returned. "INDEED, CREATOR. INSTALLATION WAS SUCCESSFUL. INGOT FOR DUPLICATION HAS BEEN DETECTED. BEGIN PROCESS."

A droning hum from Gore overtook all other sound in the forge, the machine bracing its arms on either side as the Abyssal Core glowed white hot in its chest. Fluctuations of electricity crackled all across his body as it zapped into the magma.

The mere puddle of metal seemed to expand as the electricity made contact, spreading until the entire surface area of the pit was completely encased in the liquid, red metal.

A spigot that was on the side of the forge automatically opened, allowing the excess molten metal to flow out and into a case mold for more ingots. The edges caught fire, but did not spread beyond the confines of its containment.

It was a special made case, specifically designed for the occasion that the Abyssal Core would be tested. It was the only one of its kind thus far, but more could be easily mass produced in the future.

Once it had been filled to capacity, the spigot shut itself. The case was still smoldering, but the flames died down. Amanomahitotsu strode over and quickly popped the latch to the lid, flipping it open to reveal the new treasures inside.

He gingerly reached in, hefting a new scarletite ingot from the case and proudly showing it off to Genjiro and Entoma. "Lady and gentle bug, we've just entered a new age for our guild. Now what was it you wanted to show me earlier, man?"

That seemed to snap the arachnids out of their awe for the impromptu show, the trap master reaching into his own inventory and pulling out a midnight black, ridged and oval item.

"Well, if we're gonna start talking about infinite items, then I'd say this is an appropriate piece to add to our conversation," Genjiro said in tittering amusement.

The object, whatever it was, was cradled close to the trapmaster's chest, forcing Amanomahitotsu to place down the ingot he was holding and come over to inspect it.

He squinted his eye stalks beneath his goggles. "It's very...shiny, but I don't recognize what it really is. Definitely looks cool though. What is it?"

Before Genjiro could reply, Entoma, who was still seated upon her creator's back, blurted out, "Papa is gonna make a new sibling for me only!"

Then she covered the area where her "mouth" was, as if shocked that she spoke out of turn on her own. Genjiro gave her an extremely confused side eye.

The mirelurk blacksmith had to physically restrain himself from chortling at the rather absurd scene. He coughed to fully suppress himself, gesturing to the object in clawed hand.

"A-anyways, I was cleaning some stuff up with Nearata and Entoma here, when I found this just laying in one of the piles! Dude, I think it's my lost Bug Queen egg," Genjiro said.

"Bug Queen?" Amanomahitotsu asked, the name still eluding him. "It sounds familiar but I'm not sure what's so important about it. I do remember you freaking out a few years ago about some rare item you got but that's it."

"Dude! Come on, even Tabula freaked out about it because it was a reference to some old American horror movie. It was called Extraterrestrials...no, that doesn't sound right. Anyways, this was really cool! And it can give me minions!"

Slowly but surely, a picture revealed itself in the blacksmith's mind as he recalled the minor meltdown the arachne practically had when he lost said egg. Even back then, its proper use eluded him.

Genjiro gnashed his mandibles in frustration. "You know what? Fine, I'll save it for when we have the guild meeting later today. Unlike you, I can hold my surprises till it matters."

Amanomahitotsu only shrugged. "Well, if you want to, sure. I'll remember in time, but there's something else I wanted to show you. But first we need to go and find HeroHero."

"HeroHero? What's he got to do with anything?"

"Oh, you'll see in just a bit," the mirelurk said more ominously than he intended, but his words reached his friend all the same. He walked over to one of his work benches, littered with pencils and various measuring tools.

He brushed them aside, the presence of the trapmaster and his NPC behind them as they edged closer to see what the blacksmith was doing.

It was a blue tinted paper, drawn with a myriad of designs and numbered measurements. Hastily scrawled at the top were the words "Project Kaiser".

"Come on, let's go visit one of our two favorite slimes," he said, rolling up the blueprints and tucking them under arm. "Faster we can show HeroHero, the faster we can get to work."

"Uh," Genjiro sputtered, scuttling after his crustacean guildmate, "We? I don't think I'm gonna be able to help you. I'm not an engineer! I'm not even specked into classes and levels like that!"

Entoma held on tight to her creator's shoulders, giving a small wave over her shoulder to the massive automaton Gore. He waved back as well, his optic going dim as he shut off.

Amanomahitotsu paid no heed, pushing past the iron door of his workspace and into the general hallways of Nazarick itself. His friends were right behind him, trying to keep up with the crafter's booming pace.

With each step closer to the slime artificer's room, Amanomahitotsu's pulse quickened and his claws snapped in anticipation. His eye stalks darted around, making sure no one else was in his way.

The trio passed several maids, all of whom practically jumped out of the way and stared after their masters. As they came closer and closer to HeroHero's room, it was then the mirelurk realized they seemed to be standing guard.

The door was in sight when one of the maids, a gothic, spiky haired woman with dark eyeshadow barred her way before the trio. Her posture was stern but still somewhat submissive with the way she folded her hands in front of her skirt.

"Lords Genjiro and Amanomahitotsu, Lady Entoma," the maid greeted, "Ordinarily I would never dare to block your path such as I have, but Lord HeroHero made it clear he was not to be disturbed."

"Oh," the arachne said, coming to a complete stop right behind the craftsman, "We can always come back later then. Come on, we should get going-"

"You are bold indeed to order around two Supreme Beings," Entoma hissed, her voice switching to something far more mature and wicked sounding, "Their will is two fold and of great importance to the future of Nazarick as a whole. You would deny them this?"

The almost borderline-defiance in the stance of the maid before them somewhat faltered. Her eyes averted. "Of course not, but I only wish to inform them that it was HeroHero's strictest command. Unless it was an emergency of some kind, he wished to be left alone."

"This is an emergency," the pleiade insisted from her place atop her creator's back. "We have made a breakthrough that will propel us into a new age! And Lord Amanomahitotsu stated that it would require the help of Lord HeroHero to become possible!"

The reality of the situation hit Amanomahitotsu once his adrenaline started to die down. He looked back at the door, wanting with every fiber of his being to barge in and share with his fellow craftsman his accomplishment.

But if HeroHero really wanted to be left alone for now, then he couldn't do that to the poor man...slime...person. It wasn't right, especially considering that his time in Nazarick was perhaps the first time in years he could properly rest and relax.

"Nah," The blacksmith started, butting into the conversation, "She's right. Miss... "

"I'm Nera, my lord," the maid said. Then she frowned. "Forgive me, I just remembered that your personal maid Elysia mentioned you did not wish for us to use the titles."

"Don't sweat it. If our pal doesn't want to be bothered. We'll just come back later. If you get the chance, be sure to tell him-"

The pinging of a messenger cut off his next words. Amanomahitotsu placed two fingers against his temple.

"Hello?"

"Everyone, it's time for our weekly guild meeting. Come to the conference room, and make sure to grab the others if you're close by," Momonga's voice echoed in his head. His tone of voice was calm as always.

The message cut off right afterwards and when the mirelurk turned to check on Genjiro, he saw the Arachne was miming his two fingered move.

"Must have been a group message. I just got the same thing," Genjiro explained. "Well, we can't hold off now. Let's get HeroHero."

"Alright then," Amanomahitotsu replied, making a move towards the door. This time, Nera stepped aside and let them pass. She stared straight ahead, even as Entoma hissed at her again.

CLICK!

"Yo Hero'," the crab called out into the luxurious room, "I'm sure you heard, but come on. We gotta go to the meeting now."

The room itself, unlike some of the others, still had its default Fantasy Victorian look. The furniture hadn't even been switched out for anything new.

What was new was the moist stains that seemed to pervade over...everything really. The armoire where clothing was stored had its surface entirely slicked up with an unknown, runny substance.

The armchairs, too, were damp, as was most of the rug. The vanity mirror was fogged up, and the private desk also had a curious sheen to it.

Some giggling drew Amanomahitotsu's attention to the main bed, the posts at each corner reaching up to the ceiling and creating a border from which a stain veil hung down.

Several candles had been lit, and the chandelier which usually brightened the room was almost dark. On the master bed, there was a mass of wriggling, black slime that covered all of the bed's sheets.

Some of the excess gunk dripped off of the sides, absorbing into the sticky carpent. The blacksmith clutched his blueprint even tighter to him.

Something within him warned him to get away and leave matters be, but the call for a guild meeting already came, and he'd rather not face the disciplinary wrath of Momonga, Punitto Moe, or Ancient One.

So he slowly walked up to the master bed, where the giggling and now slight, sultry moaning grew louder. He gulped, as a dark pit formed in his stomach at what his mind was now conjuring.

Genjiro and Entoma were still at the doorway, watching curiously at the blacksmith's sudden shift in approach. Neither made any effort to join him.

Amanomahitotsu gently poked the foot of the bed where the slime was pooling. "That you, Hero'?"

The noises stopped, as a second voice chokingly gasped and the mass of slime shivered. It began to shrink in on itself abruptly, coalescing into two distinct shapes before the crustacean's very eyes. Very memorable shapes.

One of them was HeroHero himself, his usual blob form vaguely humanoid for once. His black dots for eyes warbled in a strange mixture of horror and rage.

The second shape condensed into something much more human, with a pale skin tone and spiral blond hair. Her soft features were laid in a content and overly satisfied smile, gazing longingly at the black slime artificer.

None other than Solution Epsilon of course. Amanomahitotsu should have guessed that she wouldn't be far from her creator's side, but to be this close seemed excessive.

Oh, and to further assail the blacksmith's eyes, she was completely naked save for the steel boots of her maid uniform.

Both Slime and Mirelurk gaped at one another, the latter nearly dropping his precious blueprints in shock at the sight of one of his best friends in bed with his own NPC.

After a few more moments of strangled breathing noises, HeroHero roared.

"What are you doing in my room?! I told Nera not to let anybody in here! Why, man, why?!"

Before Amanomahitotsu answered the outraged blob, he pinched himself with his larger claw, just to make sure what he was seeing wasn't a dream.

"We wanted to come get you, to tell you about something we managed to do. Then Nera did tell us to come back later, only for Momonga to group message everyone about the guild meeting today. Did you...not hear it...?"

He spoke in a sort of daze, as if unsure whether to be apologetic or just answer with his own anger at being yelled at. He took a deep breath, not speaking to give the slime the chance to reply.

HeroHero's liquidy eyes widened, the acidic fury sizzling out as reason came back to him. "Momonga did? It's already noon? God, I didn't think we were in here for that long."

Solution Epsilon leaned against the humanoid shaped black slime with a sigh. "And it was worth every moment of it. If you didn't have to, I'd say we could spend the whole day here."

The artificer gently pried himself from her loving touch, holding her hands. "Babe, go get dressed for me, okay? The meeting shouldn't take long at all. I'll be back before you know it."

The slime pleiade nodded. "I'll be waiting..."

She slid off the side of the bed and headed over to the doused armoire with a sway to her curvy hips. She pulled out a spare set of maid clothes, before walking into the private bath and shower and closing the door.

"Babe?" Amanomahitotsu asked incredulously, stepping back from the bed to allow his friend to get off too. HeroHero held his humanoid shape for a moment, before collapsing in on himself back into a blobby mass.

"Gotta practice that some more. And hey, we're happy as we are. She happens to like the nickname," the slime answered, slithering to the door where Genjiro and Entoma still were.

The insectoid pleiade's "eyes" were covered by her creator's claws, though she reached up with her adorably short arms to try and pry them away to see what was going on.

Genjiro looked mortified, and he could only point between the bathroom door and HeroHero in front of him as he suctioned in air.

"What? You've never thought about it?" Was all HeroHero said, and then he slinked between the stalks for legs of the arachne.

Amanomahitotsu was right behind him, he and the trapmaster sharing a look.

"Man, this is gonna be a long day, isn't it?" The blacksmith asked rhetorically.

Genjiro moved out of the way and into the hallway. "Yeah. I think I'm gonna need a nap after this. And some quality time with my daughter Entoma to forget this nonsense."

.

.

.

Ninth Floor of Nazarick, Punitto Moe's Office

The scratching of pen on paper filled the accommodating space, filling Punitto Moe's thoughts just as much as it seemingly set his mind at ease.

He had a confession to make. He really, really hated paperwork.

He doubted that anyone truly did among the guild, especially those who made a career out of being a salaryman for the majority of their lives, like him.

But it was a necessary sacrifice, if only because he didn't want his acquaintances, no, his friends, to have to suffer through it.

Of course, there were others who did it in their off time. People like Momonga, Ancient One, Nearata, Nubo, and Bellriver, along with some of the NPCs who possessed an aptitude for it.

At first, the human in him had been startled at how unflinchingly loyal the created beings of Nazarick were.

The way in which they offered to offer their lives for their failures, sometimes with smiles as innocent as newborn children. The way in which they carried out their tasks with inhuman precision and sometimes lethality, in the case of Lupusregina with the Forest of Tob, got his mind racing in a way it hadn't in a while.

Punitto didn't expect them to be backstabbing or actively plotting against the guild per se, but the strategist side of him squinted at the idea that anybody could just do as they were told, no questions asked, from people who hadn't even been in the tomb for years.

Yet, as he silently observed how his guildmates interacted with their creations, and with the other NPCs as a whole, the paranoia in him shifted back into calculations and plans.

They're no threat to us, or anyone we don't want them to hurt, Punitto Moe thought as he scribbled down catalogues of info in his files more. Best to just let them do their purpose, and obey.

The file in question he was filling out was an official report on the events that occurred regarding Blue Planet, Ankoro Mocchi Mochi, and Coup De Grace's involvement in the "Forest of Tob Incident". Nothing out of the ordinary usually, for he'd filled out similar reports all the time back in Yggdrasil.

Except what concerned him was that his friends' findings confirmed one of his worst fears about the new world they were in, and what could possibly cause their downfall as a guild.

Other players have arrived here, before even us. They've brought world items with them, influenced the locals, told them about us...

It was a terrifying thought, to know that they were acknowledged. True, Ainz Ooal Gown as a guild was infamous back in the day for being "evil". They were hunted down, killed, and then fought back in countless skirmishes and wars over the years.

Their subsequent teleportation should have been a fresh start for all of them. They were at full power, now that everyone had returned. Nobody should have been here except for them.

Such ideas were foolish, if he really was honest with himself. He was the number one strategist of Ainz Ooal Gown! Nobody rivaled him except Ancient One, but the demon seer preferred to stay in the shadows, hidden from sight, even amongst friends.

He should have expected that other players would have arrived. He's still not sure how, but he knew he should have planned for the eventuality. For one of the few times in his life he let his guard down, now he was forced to learn this?

The paper crinkled somewhat as his writing grew faster, his vines curling around the edge of his desk and seeping into the wood. He couldn't see it, but he could feel his eyes slowly changing color as his emotions began to peak.

We have safeguards in place for the locals. Luci*Fer and the other Geomancers took care to hide the surface of the tomb from prying eyes. Nobody should find us unless somebody from the guild tells them exactly where to go.

Faster, faster, faster his writing went! Punitto Moe didn't mean to, but his anger was beginning to manifest, his grip tightening on the pencil.

First we had to deal with Momonga's stupid posturing! Thank whatever god is out there that knowledge of our existence is only limited to two separate, isolated communities. Except the caveat is that something out there is actively taunting us and may even be on the lookout for us, if Bellriver's revival is anything to go by!

Ebony wood creaked as the battle priest subconsciously pushed down on the desk's surface, nearly hugging it with how close he was getting to it.

Not only do we have to deal with the idea of other players and their items, but some goddamn boogeyman that can hurt us! I need more contingencies! I need more countermeasures! I need-!

SNAP!

A quick and easy break of the pen halted his inner fire, prompting the strategist to stare down as black ink seeped through the leafy fingers of his left hand. The tendril he had for a right arm lashed in agitation.

Punitto sighed as he quickly slid the report out of the way of the liquid as it dribbled onto the desk instead. With his vine arm, he reached for a drawer off to the side, opening it and grabbing the fresh towels in there.

The shattered pen he discarded into a trash bin, and he wiped down the surface of his desk. As he cleaned it, he noticed the cracks that started to appear from his force.

God-like strength had some obvious benefits, but it could be slightly annoying when he wasn't paying attention and used it subconsciously.

Another issue that would have to be addressed, right after he dealt with the upcoming guild meeting.

Though he had read the reports and just about everyone in the guild had been informed of the events regarding E-Rantel and the Forest of Tob, the guild meeting served as a formality. A way for which all members could catch up to speed and come together as one.

Even though the meeting hadn't been called yet, he was too energetic from his recent inner turmoil. After ensuring his limbs were clean, he gathered up the report he'd, thankfully, finished writing.

There wasn't enough time to make copies for every guild member to look over, but he'd be sure to have the maids deliver them by the next day.

Minions, in the form of the NPCs, turned out to be extremely convenient in that regard.

He slid out of his chair, his pristine robes rustling as he got up and headed for the double doors that led into his office.

A banner of the guild hung up on the wall behind him, and on either side were portraits and pictures of various guildmates or events important to the history of Ainz Ooal Gown.

In one, there were the original nine members when the guild was still called "Nine's Own Goal". All of them were standing proudly in front of the body of the first ever raid boss they'd attempted together and succeeded against.

In another, there was a group portrait of the twenty-seven members of the newly coined Ainz Ooal Gown cheering at the entrance of the Tomb of Nazarick. It had been right after they conquered the attack dungeon and claimed it as their own base.

There was one more just above the doors themselves, in plain sight of Punitto's eyes every single time he ever stepped foot out of his office.

It was of the forty-one, all of them, standing at the base of the Throne of Kings. He remembered that moment well, because it had been taken once they came back home from the Asgard's Fall raid.

The developers claimed that it was the second most difficult raid to ever be put into the game thus far. A veritable gauntlet as entire guilds would compete to traverse through the broken city of the Aesir gods.

Hordes of level one-hundred enemies stood between Ainz Ooal Gown and their end task: the defeat of the world class enemy Fenrir, Harbinger of Ragnarok and devourer of Odin, king of the gods.

Unlike with Nazarick, the forty-one were unable to complete it before other guilds could. A prominent rival, Illicit Sinners, had beaten them to the punch and made off with the first time rewards.

Thankfully, Punitto and his friends were the second group to take down Fenrir and claim their own divine level rewards. Their haul was so great that almost everyone's inventories had been filled to capacity.

He wasn't sure what his friends did with their share of the loot, save for Bellriver and Temperance's petty squabbling. He'd made sure to store his in a secure chest within his room, hidden from plain sight by high tier illusion spells.

The doors opened with an intentional creak, to signal the maids that waited on either side to move out of the way and allow him to pass.

They weren't guards in any sense of the word, but they did help to announce the arrival of guildmate or NPC should they come to his office.

"Go ahead and see what the others are up to," Punitto ordered, "The guild meeting will be coming up soon, so take a break for a bit."

The duo of beautiful women bowed without a word, before silently walking off. With the report tucked in arm, he meandered in the general direction of the conference room.

The gilded halls were rather empty, leaving the strategist to his musings and on-the-fly ideas regarding tomb security.

Being that his office was closer to the conference room than most others save for the office of Momonga himself, he arrived quickly enough to shove the doors open before they could automatically do so.

Seeing the polished marble tomb set his mind at ease, and he found his plaque in front of his chair and sat down. He laid his golden scepter by the leg of his seat, and smoothed out his robes.

The natural ambience of the conference chandelier always made his roots and bark flush with color. He sighed as he felt the light suffuse into his body, recharging his plant-based form.

It was no high-grade fertilizer, but the magical illumination was a close second.

A ping came from his messenger, letting him know that Momonga had officially called it and gaining the attention of all the other guildmates. He ignored it in lieu of soaking up more light and relaxing momentarily.

Unfortunately, it didn't last long as the doors of the conference room cracked open, letting in a few more guildmates who must have been close by.

He chanced seeing the half-golem ninja Nishikienrai, chatting it up with Flatfoot the assassin vine. Right behind them was Variable Talisman the Mimic Dragoon and Ariel the Fey Shaman.

Another group consisted of Warrior Takemikazuchi and Yamaiko, the two whispering to each other while Small Cuttlefish lagged behind them. The mindflayer never tried to pry into their conversation, but she nodded diligently when the first two included her.

Slowly, more and more players kept piling into the massive space, each member finding their respective seats and sitting down.

Punitto watched as everyone settled in, his counterpart Ancient One sitting right across from him at the circular table. The two gave each other a subtle glance as a hello.

Ancient One had a pile of papers in his own hands, separating the massive pile into their own groups, either based on importance or relevance to the meeting at hand.

The last to enter was Momonga himself, Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown and flanked, as usual, by Touch Me and Ulbert Alain Odle. The paladin and demon made for some fine impromptu guards to their best friend and guild leader.

They sat on either side of Momonga as he allowed the guild item to float behind him in its alcove. The guild leader had temporarily been "grounded" from using the actual staff, which resided in the Cherry Blossom Sanctuary with Aureole Omega, the last of the Pleiade Battle Maids.

So as a substitute, a fake had been made by Amanomahitotsu until Punitto Moe and Ancient One felt that their own leader could be trusted with it outside of the tomb.

But as the fake staff took its place, the death vine player had sensed something was...off about Momonga. He seemed somewhat more distant than usual, though he interacted with everyone else like normal when they came to him for one reason or another.

Punitto couldn't put his finger on it, but it felt like the overlord's head space had become preoccupied by something else. Something he had only noticed after he came back from the ruins of E-Rantel.

And it was only when he held the fake staff. The skeletal mage's grip, the battle-priest noticed, was always slack as if ready to drop it at a moment's notice. The way his flaming eyes flickered to the serpentine heads at the fake staff's crown in anticipation also was odd.

Nonetheless, Momonga produced his gavel from the sleeves of his robes, after taking a moment to survey the room and ensure all guildmates were present.

"Alright everyone, it's time for our guild meeting! I'm sure many of you are anxious to officially share your thoughts, so let's do this."

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Everyone sat up straight in their chairs, their eyes or other visual mediums focused on the head mage.

"First," Momonga started, "I'm sure many of you have heard from Blue Planet, Ankoro Mocchi Mochi, and Coup De Grace what happened while they were in the Forest of Tob, so we'll skip them recapping and instead have them just present their most important findings."

"Thank you," the Druid said. He clasped both hands on the table, dark bags under his eyes. "It's been a busy week to be sure. The dryads and humans have done well to repair their communities, but they're still dealing with the psychological trauma. The kidnapped, that is."

"Crazy to think that they had to deal with that for almost a whole month," Jo-Bro commented, his saurian tail lashing behind him. "At least we got them as allies in the end."

"Indeed, which is all thanks to Grover Sprigganson. Were it not for him, I believe that the threat of this green eyed individual would have gone unnoticed," Coup De Grace jumped in.

Ankoro hummed in agreement, her wavy hair bouncing. "Yeah, and we never would have found out about the kid or his 'Seeds of Hesperides' as they're called."

"You have it with you, yes?" Grievous Sin asked. His four arms furiously wrote down in blank notebooks as the worms that made up his main body watched over his workings.

Blue Planet produced the sack of seeds from his inventory, passing it down to Nearata on his left. The golden dragon studied it with his monocle and hummed in contemplation as his slit eyes glowed a moment.

"The Seeds of Hesperides. Evidently, they are meant to be planted and tended for. They will continuously grow golden apples for you, which will grant a number of different buffs and bonuses if eaten on their own, or replace certain rare ingredients in alchemical recipes," Nearata said.

That got everyone else's attention, to which the dragon passed it off to his own left for the next guildmate to look at. The merchant continued to list off what else he'd gleaned from the world class item.

"The flavor text also mentions something along the lines of... deathless immortality? It almost seems like eating one can grant a second wind if we're brought down and about to die. Apparently the trees can be cut down and used as a specialized, high-tier resource for item crafting."

And so it went until it reached Punitto's hands, his vine arm reaching into the sack itself and pulling out a few seeds. The tip split, allowing the roots to hold four of the seeds up to the light.

Traces of glowing silver snaked their way across the seeds' surface. A very faint pulse could be felt, but otherwise the seeds were inert. He held them up for a few seconds longer, then passed them onto Brisingr, the animated sword fencer.

As everyone took the chance to continue looking at the bag of seeds, Momonga spoke up.

"In regards to Coup De Grace's point, my group and I also encountered this green eyed creature. It seems in both situations, it possessed a host and then promptly fled after the body was destroyed."

"Another player perhaps?" Bukubukuchagama inquired, using her more mature voice to speak. "With the existence of Grover, it wouldn't be unfair to speculate. Though its race isn't anything like back in Yggdrasil."

"It doesn't seem like an Eidolon player, but Yggdrasil always prided itself on its customizability," Tepas Smith said, his brooding eyes lazily scanning the table. He stroked his spear-ripe beard with one hand, talons on prominent display.

Wish III shook his head. "Nah, can't be a player. No player I know could possess something and make it stronger. At least with that Grover kid, not so sure with the lich."

Various conversations amongst themselves broke out, Punitto Moe watching as his friends and allies attempted to dominate the table with their own theories as to what exactly was going on.

His eyes matched with Ancient One's, the demon seer frowning as he tapped his double chin. He could only shrug at the battle strategist's non-verbal question.

There's gotta be something we're missing here. What brought players to this world? Or if not what, then who? What could this thing want with us, if it really brought Bellriver back? And if it did, then it had to know we were coming somehow. I don't like this one bit.

Momonga banged his gavel several times, the sharp poundings bringing the rampant guild mates back to attention.

"Whatever the case, we must remain vigilant. This foe is obviously something that can't be harmed in a traditional manner. Nor am I keen to send our own out to test and see if there is a magic potent or versatile enough to harm it."

The overlord swept his eyes across the different heteromorphs, maybe not really expecting them to challenge his words but still saying it anyways. No one rebuked his statement.

"That being said, I would recommend that for the time being, we remain behind in the tomb until we can fully understand what is going on and how to combat it," Momonga said.

His suggestion immediately caused an uproar of complaints amongst the guild. Punitto Moe himself remained calm, even as Suratan jabbed a finger at him.

"C'mon boss! You seriously can't just say we can go out and then keep us locked in here! Don't let this goddamn house plant decide what we get to do!" The sasquatch berserker demanded.

Even though his fury flared and the newspaper he kept on hand crinkled in his grip, the battle priest answered calmly.

"Actually, I have nothing to do with this statement. Whatever he's saying is all him. Of course, I'm sure an agreement can be reached since we did tell you all to go explore."

There was no change in inflection or tone on his end. His voice was so painfully neutral that it could only be described as monotone. That somehow scared the rowdy behemoth more.

Suratan snarled, but he lowered his hand. He slammed it in frustration. The rest of the table fell silent, not really sure what else there was to say.

Thankfully, Genjiro decided to save them all from the agonizing awkwardness by putting his two credits in.

"Well, uh, if there's nothing else super important to discuss, I did want to share a discovery with all of you."

"No, Genjiro, we don't want to hear about the mating habits of jumping spiders again," Dynamite the harpy wizard deadpanned. That got a few laughs, as well as a wing slap from an annoyed Connaisdiam. Despite the tone used, she was smirking.

"What were you going to say, lad?" Shijuuten Suzuka, the undead frost giant, asked politely. His bare knuckles rapped against the table surface as his exposed ribs rubbed against the edge.

The arachne trapmaster took the moment to hoist up a shiny, ridged oval above his head, proudly displaying the item for all to see.

"I thought I lost it years ago, but lo and behold, I found it hidden within the piles and mountains of treasure as me and Nearata sorted through the treasury. My fellow heteromorphs, I have the Bug Queen egg again!"

No one said anything, most giving the egg an interested glance. Otherwise, there were blank expressions all around. Save for one that is.

A massive, grey tentacle extended across the table top, reaching out to the egg and caressing its slick surface. It retracted then, going back to Tabula Smarisdigna the brain eater alchemist.

"So you really recovered it after all these years...," the cephalopod player trailed off in awe and giddiness. The normal fish-eyed look of his new body gained a new shine to it as the recognizable shift in personality started to come on.

Uh oh, Punitto Moe thought, as did the rest of the guild, he imagined.

Genjiro bobbed his head excitedly. "Oh yeah! With this baby, we can really get into business with our mob defenses! Once the Bug Queen is fully raised up and her nest established, we can start producing soldiers in no-time!"

"...What? We can get more soldiers from that thing?" Temperance, the core spawn seer shadowmancer, asked, waving a hand at the egg. "How so, and how quickly?"

Rather than the arachne answering, it was Tabula who took up the responsibility. "That egg, when hatched and properly raised, can make nearly a dozen mobs at a time by laying more eggs and hatching them. They're not Bug Queens themselves, but more like the warriors in a bee-hive."

Understanding slowly dawned on some of the guildmates' faces. Their vision focused as they honed in on the alien-looking vessel.

The brain eater continued. "Of course, it can only produce around a dozen of these warriors at a time with the help of a 'donor' source. Basically, it needs a DNA sample to make the eggs and hatch them."

"How do you know so much about this? Isn't that supposed to be Genjiro's?" Variable Talisman asked. His head, rather than an anvil, was now in the shape of a one-handed war-hammer.

Due to the beak-like mouth, the alchemist couldn't smile per se, but the way in which the eldritch being tried unnerved Punitto Moe greatly. His leaves and roots shivered at the simple motion.

"When Genjiro found the item the first time all those years ago, he came to me first and explained its form and function to me. It just so happens that even after all these years, I'd recognize that egg shape still," Tabula explained.

"What's so recognizable about it if most of us can't remember it?"

"The item itself is a rather blatant but enjoyable reference to a classical horror film that I deeply enjoy. I don't typically watch such films that go past the early twenty fifties, but this one is among a few I make an exception for."

"How far are we talking here?" Small Cuttlefish inquired. She was practically mashed up next to Takemikazuchi's side, while Yamaiko was on the other.

"How does nineteen seventy-nine sound?"

By that point, the alchemist began delving into his own lore and knowledge of the film, a supposed sci-fi to boot, when mankind's dreams of reaching the stars didn't seem so far away.

Punitto sighed as he tuned out the incessant "info-dumping" as he called it. He turned in his seat to directly address the trapmaster.

"Say we do get the Bug Queen up and running. I stand by Temperance's previous questions and also ask if we would need to do anything further with them."

Genjiro's mandibles chittered. "Uh...maybe three days for the eggs to grow? Then when they hatch, I think they only take about a day to mature. Come those first dozen are hatched though, we'll need another DNA sample."

"So it's not a problem of growth, but rather finding a donor."

"That's right. The problem is, it can't make warriors out of anything higher than level thirty-five. So us players are no bueno."

"A problem to address then for the next meeting, or in private if you really want to start immediately," the death vine decided.

Momonga, who had remained quiet up until that point, broke his silence. "I believe that this would be a good point to end the meeting, but before I do, there are a few things I believe I should address just to finalize things."

He leaned forward, rolling the handle of the gavel between his fingers. "Blue Planet, I believe that those seeds could be of great use to us. With your permission, Blue Planet, I would like to have them planted as soon as possible."

"About what I was planning anyways but good to see we're on the same page," the Druid agreed. "I'll set up a nursery separate from the main one just for these seeds."

"Good. Genjiro, if you're able, try and see if you can get that egg to hatch. I'm giving you full permission to use whatever items you need out of the treasury to ensure it grows up healthily. If you need something from any of us, be sure to ask first."

"You got it man, which helps since Amanomahitotsu finished installing the Abyssal Core into Gore," the spider player confirmed.

Momonga's flame eyes flared in surprise. "The what now?"

"Yeah, I had meant it as a surprise. Here's what you need to know," the blacksmith said. He then launched into a concise explanation of the item and where he got it, which got some very happy exclamations of approval from the rest of the guild.

"Do you think you can set up a schedule for material duplication then?" Punitto asked, taking control of the conversation now that he knew of the Abyssal Core's installation.

"I could get one set up. I hadn't even planned that far ahead, to be honest."

Ancient One raised one of his ivory talons. "I can assist you as such with that. I'll be sure to draw one up on the morrow."

"Then I believe that settles it then," Momonga declared, raising his gavel. Before he slammed it down, he had one more thing to say that the battle strategist appreciated more than anything that entire meeting.

"Regardless of whatever happens, nothing will harm our guild. We are strong. We are united. We have the greatest minds among us to ensure we are not led astray. We have our armor, our weapons, our NPCs, and, most importantly, we have each other. No matter who may be hunting us, or studying us, or plotting our demise, we will not go quietly into the night, do you hear me?"

As he slammed the gavel down, the guild meeting erupted into a clamoring of cheers and battle cries. Enough so that Punitto Moe flinched.

It was a corny speech to be sure, coming from the skeletal overlord. Under any other circumstances, he would have smacked Momonga over the head with the newspaper. Partially as a joke, of course.

But strangely enough, he didn't mind. If anything, he welcomed it.

.

.

.

The Slane Theocracy, Thousand Leagues Astrologer's room

She couldn't make sense of it. Any of it, really. And that was surprising to her considering the amount of data she had collected on the subject.

CLAP!

The book she was holding was closed with a sigh, and she gently placed it back by her side while she sat on the bed. A veritable mountain of scrolls, books, and loose leaflets of parchment were scattered around her abode, though the most concentrated pile was with her on her bed.

Provida Oculi, or Thousand Leagues Astrologer, prided herself as being the best damn surveillance and reconnaissance specialist within the Slane Theocracy Black Scripture. Her methodical and organized nature, as well as her quiet ambition, gained her a sort of infamy among even other scripture members.

Until recently, of course.

She had been assigned to keep a close eye on the Sunlight Scripture during their mission to hunt down Warrior Captain Gazef. They had cornered the Re-Estize warrior in a small, already destroyed village known simply as Carne.

It was a routine assassination. Something that even a battle hardened veteran would have trouble fending off when faced with some of the best the Slane Theocracy had to offer.

Admittedly, the Sunlight Scripture had faced some turmoil and hardships in recent years, especially after their loss against Blue Rose. But there were high hopes for the mission's success.

Until three new, completely unknown individuals who dubbed themselves the "Sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown" had arrived, and singlehandedly manhandled the scripture into indentured servitude. All without real apparent effort.

The Dominion Authority's defeat had left her horrified, her knees actually shaking as it collapsed in on itself from the single bolt of magic that struck it. But that wasn't the primary reason why she was embroiled in research.

In the moments she was able to more closely examine the battlefield with her scrying mirror, she could clearly make out the features of the three "sirs" and the remainder of the Sunlight Scripture. She thought maybe, just maybe, the attire of the trio could hint at who they were precisely.

Then her entire world had cracked, or rather her view of it. A thousand spider webs shattering her vision, and giving way to eternal darkness. And in that experience she had felt another consciousness brush against her own.

Something so vast and incomprehensible and alien broke past her mental defenses, and cut off her sight all together.

A voice tutted to her then. "Sorry, but you don't have clearance to be looking here. Just be thankful I got here before my friend's protections did."

From the darkness of her mind's eye, she could make out a glowing and radiant light, emanating from a single source. A small piece of her magic must have reactivated because it got closer to her.

A being of many golden rings, embedded with several dozen eyes of holy fire. They surrounded a molten core that held a central eye within itself. The rings constantly rotated as wings floated just above their surfaces.

Every single one of the eyes stared at her, not quite angry but almost amused. The downy appendages fluttered and flapped, before the shadows engulfed it and hid from her mental sight.

When she came to, she found her main scrying mirror shattered into a thousand pieces. She had to go and retrieve one of the hand-held spares she kept for just such an emergency.

By the time she was able to regain focus on the village itself, the Sunlight Scripture was bound by the soldiers of Re-Estize and their captain, and the Sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown gone.

Since then, she had reported her findings and was told to keep a close eye on the village, to ensure that none of their former scripture members divulged sensitive information.

Captain Gazef had left back to Re-Estize along with his men not long after, only to return a few days later with books and sacks of money in tow. One of the sirs, the armor coated knight, came out of an obsidian colored portal and retrieved the items, leaving quickly.

It was mind boggling. It should've been a simple mission, but she couldn't focus on that. Now she tasked herself with something else to keep herself busy.

"Come on, there's gotta be some sort of reference around here somewhere," she muttered, picking up another scroll and unfurling it.

On the yellowed paper was an intricate drawing of a skeletal being, wearing a jet black, armored robe. In one hand was a sparkling flat headed staff, and a long handled, two headed scythe in the other.

Lord Surshana...not the one I want, but let's see if there's anything to find here.

Her eyes skimmed the basic writings on her god, noting information that she already knew for the most part.

Lord of the dead. One of the Six Great Gods. The last deity standing against the Greed Kings. Most powerful magician, warrior, and evil of the Six...Oh! What's this down here?

It was a personal quote that one of the scribes living at the time of the god of death must have written down while creating the scroll. It read as follows.

"If there was ever a time that I feared for my life, it was thus: when I first came to this world with my friends, and when I encountered Trinity themselves while being in Yggdrasil."

"Trinity," Provida said, clicking her tongue. The name left a pleasant feel in her mouth.

She continued reading the next passage of her god's words. "They were the most powerful and righteous group of individuals I'd ever met, almost disgustingly so. But I know that if I was ever in trouble, I could count on them to rescue me. If I was ever causing trouble, then may my guild preserve me, because nothing would stop them."

The young woman hummed in frustration once she realized that the passage cut off there. She flipped the scroll over, but found no other reference to "Trinity", nor even names to give to the trio of beings that would terrify the god of death.

She turned back to her pile of literature, carefully separating out all pieces that did not contain some sort of passage about, on, or from Surshana himself.

Doing so in this method was lengthy, but she was not expected for another half hour to give her report on the destruction of E-Rantel. Her findings about its end only came in yesterday.

She felt it before she was ever able to see it for herself. One moment she had been in a weekly meeting with the rest of her Black Scripture comrades, the next she was waking up suddenly after having passed out.

Nausea threatened to make her lose her breakfast, as chills racked her body and her forehead was hot to the touch. Her palms were clammy, and a thin layer of sweat had developed on her pale skin.

It was far from an isolated incident, as all the other scripture members also felt the bizarre effects, either to greater or lesser degrees. The only one that seemed unaffected was the Black Scripture's superior himself, Rufus.

Of course, this was to be expected, seeing as how he was undead. Perhaps one of the great hypocrisies of Provida's own nation, to hate the non-humans so much yet allow a member of their own into the Slane Theocracy's inner ranks.

Exceptions were to be made, she supposed, for Rufus was a direct servant of the now passed Surshana. A final relic from a bygone age, save for the many that resided in the vaults.

Regardless, the incident had left her deeply concerned, and her efforts to find the cause were met with the destruction of E-Rantel itself. An entire city, annihilated within a single night.

Granted, there were survivors, but they were few and far between it seemed. Not to mention that if they remained in the ruins for long, the negative energy could make them sick as horridly as it did for even the Black Scripture.

She was not sure what could cause such wanton ruin for so many thousands of people, but she would wager a few guesses.

Just as she was about to pick up one of the books that she had sorted out, a sharp knock rapped at her door.

"Come in," Provida said briskly, the brief click of her door greeting her ears.

When she bothered to look up, she saw who her new visitor was, and she could practically feel her eyes rolling out of her skull already.

"Yeesh," said an effeminate, but male voice, "I thought you were more organized than this? What, did you need an excuse to clean your linens before Wash Day?"

If the owner of said voice could be described in only a single word, it would be flamboyant.

He was a virtual mosaic of reds, greens, blacks, and whites that made Provida's head spin. His suit shirt led down to fabric that looked like a skirt to the untrained eye, wearing an elaborate, golden pin with a chain that looped down and back up to his neck.

Boots and gloves that went up to his knees and elbows were dotted with marigold ribbons at the junctions of his clothing. A candy red cape hung to his upper back while a belt the same color as the ribbons hugged his slender waist.

His medium brown hair was done up in a ponytail, while a miniature, black, top-hat nestled itself on his crown. Soft features, much like his voice, painted him as a distinct, feminine figure as striking as the rapier clipped to his belt.

Such an individual was the second seat of the Black Scripture, code-named "Time Turbulence". His real name was Parvus Puer, but to Provida, he would always be called-

"Asshole," she snarked, setting the book back down. "What? Did you not meet your quota of harassing the women for the day? Decided I was worth messing around with?"

The diminutive "man" raised both hands in mock surrender, but his self-satisfied grin and smug aura indicated otherwise.

"Why, my apologies!" He gasped mockingly, "and to think I would grace you with my presence and inform you that the Cardinals were ready for you. If you'd like, I could go right back and inform them that you're busy with...whatever you're doing."

"Forget it," Provida shot back, gently placing the book back into place. "It can wait. I didn't realize time flew by so quickly already."

"I've been told I have that effect on people," Parvus replied, stepping out of the way of the door. He bowed dramatically, flaring his arms as if to make way for a queen.

She huffed. "By the six, you're insufferable."

"And you are as charming as ever, bookworm."

These types of conversations were not uncommon between the two scripture members. Quite the contrary, they seemed to be the only type of interaction she ever had with him.

Being the second seat of the Black Scripture itself was no small matter, and for someone quite stunted in his growth, the ego Parvus cultivated quickly grew past these bounds.

Every single member of the Black Scripture seemed to excel in one field or another. For Provida herself, it was her unmatched scrying abilities and "sixth sense" in regard to observation and calculation.

But for Parvus, he was a master time manipulator. Well, he could not stop time as a whole like the Great Six could. Their abilities allowed them to seemingly stop and move around in time for as long as they pleased.

At most, the second seat could barely manage three seconds. But he had no problems in accelerating or decelerating time through his own body or through a single target.

That meant that his reflexes could reach astronomical levels, not even registering to the naked eye that he moved, save for whatever damage he inflicted upon his targets.

On the inverse, he could slow down the movements of his opponent, making even the fastest and most agile seem sluggish and lazy by comparison and then handily pick them off at his leisure.

The second ability drained more out of the short man than his first, so he tended only to use it when going up against a single opponent, and speeding himself up when faced with a group.

Perhaps the only time he used his time stop was against the Captain of the Black Scripture himself, and even then he was soundly defeated.

Thankfully, the walk from Provida's room to the main meeting room of the Cardinals of the Slane Theocracy itself was all in the same building. A minor blessing, to not be in the second seat's presence any longer than she had to.

The residence she had been in and it's close proximity to some of the most important individuals in her country meant she could report to them as quickly as possible, as opposed to living in her own house somewhere else in the holy city.

The building itself sat neatly within the direct center of the city, Kami Miyako, with a large, domed roof of niches depicting statues of each of the Six. Their names were inscribed just beneath in gold.

Two grand hallways which branched off into a seemingly infinite amount of rooms flared out from either side, the roofs supported by marble pillars hand crafted by master artisans.

The floors were inlaid with webbed crystal in an obvious display of wealth and power. Legends stated that during the early days of the Slane Theocracy, the gods themselves kneeled next to their architects to lay down the exquisite tiling.

Chandeliers with glowing crystals served as the main source of light up and down the winding hallways, illuminating everything in a peaceful, sleepy atmosphere.

In no time she was in front of the doors to the grand hall of the Cardinals, ornate doors of mahogany and marble that slid inwards with nary a sound. Two heavily armored guards stood on either side, wielding halberds that flowed with the magic of enchantments.

Provida's heels clicked against the floor, Parvus remaining behind as the doors slowly closed. Right through the crack before they completely shut, the short man winked mischievously with a chuckle.

She huffed and pressed on, finding herself in front of the dias where the six Cardinals of the Slane Theocracy stood. The later time in the day meant that the three mosaic windows behind them, which normally brightly illuminated the holy figures, bathed them in shadow.

Only their silhouettes were visible, as well as the dim shine of the metallic threads of their robes and birettas. All six of them stood equally to one another, and none even glanced at a chair or furniture of any kind.

Of the six, she knew their names thus: Berenice Nagua, Cardinal of Fire. Ginedine Delan Guelfi, Cardinal of Water. Dominic Ihre Partouche, Cardinal of Wind. Yvon Jasca Dracrowa, Cardinal of Light. Maximillian Oreio Lagier, Cardinal of Darkness.

And of course, Raymond Zarg Lauransan, Cardinal of Earth and commander of the Six Scriptures. He, however, did share seniority with Rufus when it came to the Black Scripture.

A humble half bow was in order, and then Provida stood ramrod straight, staring ahead and remaining quiet. She did not meet any of the Cardinals' eyes.

Silence pervaded the expansive meeting room for a time, the Cardinals no more than statues to be admired in the late afternoon sun. Then, one of them stirred.

"Speak with us, Thousand Leagues Astrologer," said Cardinal Berenice, her voice motherly and kind. "Share with us your report on the destruction of E-Rantel."

The scryer nodded dutifully, launching into her recent findings of the city's annihilation. For the ordinary scryer, they would find their report rather dry in terms of details, for most likely they would take everything at face value or reach dead ends when attempting to contemplate some of the harder questions that came about as they performed their duty.

Proovida faced no such difficulties, her details ranging all the way from the arrival of a band of adventurers late at night with a wagon laden with an absolute monstrosity, up until the eventual slaying of a lich which had flaming green eyes and was responsible for the disaster.

The robes and markings of the lich's attire identified him as a member of Zuranon, high ranking at that. The ritual he performed alongside the other colleagues with him was unlike anything before seen, for rather than just a surge of negative energy bursting forth, it summoned a strange orb with flames the same color as the post ritual lich.

What was also unique, Provida noted to her superiors, was the summoning of new types of undead that were not only harder to kill, but also able to regenerate their wounds from damage sustained.

As she continued to list each and every detail, the Cardinals grew restless but remained quiet as to not interrupt her during what was arguably one of the more important reports she had to give in a long while.

By the time she was finished, the Cardinals were downright antsy, at least by her standards. Once ready, they launched into a mess of whispers amongst each other.

She waited dutifully, before another one of the Cardinals, Cardinal Yvon, spoke up.

"And you're sure that it was only Zuranon within the city?" the shortest of the male Cardinals asked. "The Knights of the Weeping King were not present at all?"

"Negative," Provida answered, "As per my last report, they were still dealing with bandit raids led by Brain Unglaus and what rumors say to be Clementine herself. They were on the verge of destruction."

Cardinal Dominic grunted. "Hard to believe that they have been whittled down so low, but if Clementine truly is wasting her time dealing with those undead worshippers, then my previous statement is rather moot. Tell me, what of the adventuring team that ended the threat and went on to rescue the alchemist Nfirea Barreare?"

"They are believed to have left the city all together, though another adventuring team going by the names of the Swords of Darkness was witnessed to be leaving as well. I believe that both teams were on their way to seek aid from Re-Estize for the survivors."

"Bah," exclaimed Cardinal Ginedine, "That city is so fraught with corruption and crime that it's any wonder it has not yet collapsed. Tell me, child, did that beast the new adventuring team capture with the Swords of Darkness head back in the direction of the beast kingdoms?"

"No," Provida replied, "I believe that it flew in the direction of the Forest of Tob. Whatever it was, it evidently held some sort of special connection to the area."

More hushed whispers as the holy figures leaned in and conversed with one another. Provida made no attempts to pry, but she did see all of them nod their heads in agreement.

When they returned back to their positions, Cardinal Raymond was the next to talk.

"Time Turbulence and the other members of the Black Scripture say that they felt negative energy sickness while giving individual reports to Rufus, do you believe that this sudden illness was caused by the city's downfall?"

"Given the timeline, Cardinal Raymond, it seems too perfect a coincidence. Even still, the amount of energy needed to reach the Slane Theocracy from as far as E-Rantel is considerable indeed."

The older man nodded sagely. For his position within the government of the holy city, he was surprisingly young. He had barely reached his mid-forties, but contained an energy within him that would suggest he was only half that age.

Provida shouldn't be surprised, for she knew that the now Cardinal had once been a member of the Black Scripture itself. Most likely it was residual energy from the intensive training and magic which enhanced his body to a certain degree.

Much like Cardinal Berenice, Cardinal Raymond was a kindly and reasonable man. Being the overall commander of all six scriptures would have led one to think his service hardened the authority's heart, but it seemed to do the exact opposite.

He was not soft by any means, Provida reflected, but he was far more forgiving and patient in his ways when dealing with the soldiers of the Slane Theocracy.

"Given what we have now learned," Cardinal Maximillian jumped in, "What I believe we should discuss is whether or not we send aid over to E-Rantel given the circumstances."

"Out of the question," Cardinal Dominic retorted, "The city would never accept our aid, nor would their capital allow it. Besides, they seem far more keen to accept help from overly large beastmen than their fellow man."

"Peace, Brother Dominic," Cardinal Berenice responded with a warm smile, "Whether or not they recieved aid from an amalgamate is irrelevant. The city is clearly in trouble, and if they remain there for long, the city could end up another infestation of undead much like the Katze Plains."

Cardinal Maximillian hummed, stroking his stubbled chin. "Perhaps, but that might be to our benefit. Allow Re-Estize to be assaulted by undead on two fronts, then when the capital falls to ruin, we open our borders to let in the survivors and bolster our own numbers."

"That could prove to be beneficial," Cardinal Yvon agreed. "With our war with the elves, we can't risk sending supplies out to help a city that would most likely turn us away. We need all the hands we can get, and what better way to do that than simply letting them come to us."

"Don't you feel we are brushing aside the point that a city was absolutely destroyed by Zuranon? Whether one of their apparent leaders failed in his mission or not doesn't mean we can simply let that go, even if the Knights of the Weeping King are on the brink of extinction," Cardinal Raymond demanded, crossing his bulging, muscular arms over one another.

Cardinal Dominic chuckled ruefully. "Ah, but in the past we contented ourselves with allowing the rival cults to destroy each other. Who's to say the scraps won't try and pick each other apart?"

"Perhaps on the grounds that Zuranon, even with this disaster, has amassed enough power and influence to even try. Who knows what else may be lurking just beyond? We can't just forget about this."

The cardinals began to squabble amongst themselves, their voices lowering and raising in pitch and tone as they passionately argued their points. Even though there were only six, the complexity of their arguments and their fervor made it seem like dozens of voices were speaking.

All cardinals were equal to one another, but even then, they listened to one voice as a leader for a time.

Cardinal Raymond raised his hand to silence his brethren, looking Provida in the eye.

"Unfortunately, we cannot spare resources it seems, due to our own war with the elves, as well as our own personal viewpoints," the former scripture member spoke with disappointment, "However, we seem to be mostly in agreement that the situation overall cannot be ignored."

As he spoke, Provida saw how his eyes darted to Dominic and Yvon, who, for once, also looked content with their colleague's words. Even with earlier disagreements, the possibility of a new Katze Plains couldn't be thrown to the wayside.

"So instead, we have chosen that for the time being, some of the Black Scripture will go undercover to investigate and track down more Zuranon cells, stopping them before they can launch any more attacks on other villages or cities."

Provida nearly laughed at that, for she knew that even if the other cardinals weren't keen on aiding their human allies through supplies, they would still help through other means.

It was a bit of a low blow, as she suspected that Cardinal Raymond would use the operation as an excuse to send over items like food and medicine to keep the Black Scripture "up to pace" during their mission.

Such was the way of bureaucracy. If one couldn't get their way directly, then sometimes an under-the-table method was required.

"Thank you for your report, Thousand Leagues Astrologer," Cardinal Maximillian stated, waving his hand, "You are dismissed. We have much more to discuss and plan on which members of the Black Scripture to send out."

With that, the holy figures turned away from the reconnaissance officer all together, talking with each other. The sound of the heavy doors clicking open from behind her was her cue to leave.

She gave another half-bow, and then strode out of the grand hall with only the clicking of her heels to keep her company.

The lights in the chandeliers had brightened significantly, which indicated that it was even later in the day now. Perhaps it was even night, though she doubted it.

It did, however, reveal the floating form of Rufus, waiting just behind her in the shrinking shadows of the closing doors.

In the past, his sudden appearance would have made her jump, but she had long grown used to the eccentricities of the quiet undead. Especially with his ability to seemingly pop up out of nowhere.

"Come with me," he spoke in his dull echoing tone, his white robes billowing and trailing behind him in nonexistent wind. Provida followed without question, though she had to if she didn't want to get quickly left behind.

The robes of the undead, much like the cardinals, was a blazing white inlaid with metallic threads of gold and silver. On the front was the symbol of the Black Scripture itself, and two thin strips of cloth flowed behind him tapped with golden clips.

His arms were tucked into his sleeves, hiding his limbs, and his feet were obscured by the flowing waves of his silky attire. Though that was also due to the method of minor levitation he employed.

A hood was drawn up over his head, far enough that the gloom it created shrouded his face. Not even his glowing eyes, which all higher-tier undead were famous for, were visible.

The only thing that really indicated the superior of the Black Scripture was even undead was the smell he exuded. A sickly sweet rot that had to be covered with heavy amounts of rose-petal perfume.

Not strictly necessary, as Provida knew that any high-grade perfume would do, but it was perhaps the only thing Rufus insisted for himself.

True, undead did not subscribe to the many desires of living flesh, but even then Rufus was minimal. He usually confined himself to his room, or the ancient archives where he could muse on the old days when the Six Great Gods were still alive.

It was only when he conferred with the Black Scripture, or directly interfered with the Cardinals themselves, that he was seen.

Which makes me wonder what exactly he wants with me, Provida thought as she kept following after her superior.

Eventually, they found themselves back in front of her room's door, Rufus waiting patiently for the scryer to open it for him. A polite gesture, but also unnecessary.

She obeyed his unspoken command, reaching around his thin form and opening the door. He floated in without a word, and she filed in right behind him.

"Lock the door. I do not wish to be disturbed," Rufus commanded.

A flash of a key and a click later, both subordinate and superior were completely alone. The undead glanced all around the room of the typically organized scryer.

"You have been busy," the undead servant stated, floating over to a pile of books. He finally took his hands out of his robes, flicking a clawed, somewhat scaly appendage like a bird of prey.

The books closest to the top hovered in the air, drawing closer and laying themselves bare to the magical being. He hummed in thoughtful contemplation.

"Commander Rufus, was there something you wanted of me?" Provida asked, her curiosity winning out on why exactly he wished to speak with her.

To her minor frustration, he seemingly ignored her, waving his hand again and making the books gently flow back into place.

He levitated to the pile on her bed, singling out the parchment with Surshana that she was reading earlier. It unfurled itself, allowing the ever-silent undead to read it.

Once he was done, he allowed it to return to its spot.

"Tell me, child, what do you know of my masters?" Rufus asked. He turned to face her, folding his arms back into his sleeves.

"They were the Six Great Gods of humanity," Provida recited instantly, "Our great protectors. Were it not for them, then the light of humanity itself would have been snuffed out and plunged our species into darkness."

He nodded slightly. "They've taught you well. To think that doctrine and dogma could come together so seamlessly. Truly, the future of mankind is bright."

The tone of voice didn't indicate sarcasm, but neither did it seem like a compliment. Nonetheless, he continued.

"For nearly six-hundred years, I have watched over and guided the Black Scripture. From my master's first arrival, to now. I watched him fall, you know. Take his last stand against beings of equal power."

"The Eight Greed Kings," Provida said, filling in the blank, "Those who destroyed the last of our gods and went on a genocide of every non-human on this continent."

"Indeed. Which is why I come to you now. I have seen godly might. Felt it sear my very core. I know what it looks like, and what to look for when it comes. Which is why I come to you now to inform you that others have arrived."

A momentary blip in her consciousness took place. At first, she thought she misheard him, only for the weight of his words to take hold and drag her down.

No...wait, the sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown! He was there for that report! Did he find something before I could even think to do it?

As if reading her thoughts, the richly clothed being nodded again. "Your initial report of Carne Village, and the sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown, stirred within me something I have not felt in centuries. Like you, apparently, I accessed the archives. Even those with....restricted permissions."

She dared not make a sound, her every sense intent on taking in every syllable of her commanding officer.

"The arrival of my masters, and of the Greed Kings is not an isolated incident, nor is it limited to ones of this region," Rufus said, "With all I have learned myself, and what I have learned from you, I believe what once brought divine will to this world, has occurred again."

"You believe the gods have come back to us?" Provida inquired, a tiny bit of hope instilled in her inflection. Unfortunately, it was stamped out by the shaking of the undead's head.

"No. What has come to pass, will remain as such. Rather, I believe that an entirely new group of players had come onto the board. I believe that you had an encounter with one of them yourself. More specifically, the one who severed your connection and drove you out of Carne that day."

Before she could say anything, Rufus sighed, and turned away from her. He floated to one of the windows of her room, drawing away the curtain physically to show off the sunset.

"I do not agree with everything that this country has done. I don't believe it is the way my masters would have liked you all to develop," he admitted, not looking at her, "But I know not all of you follow such barbaric practices, which is why I have only spoken with a few about this matter, you among them."

Another sigh, and then he faced her. He ever so subtly shifted his hood. The dim yellow glow of his flaming eyes greeted her, flickering invitingly.

"I have a task for you, just as I have given to Raymond. His mission will bear more pieces of this puzzle, and you will continue to observe Carne. Or more specifically, you will observe the presence that interrupted you, and make contact."

Provida found it within herself to sputter an objection. "Look for it? Commander, you can't be serious. It destroyed my defenses and scrying mirror with little effort! If what you're saying is true, then I'm essentially dueling Lady Hokey Pokey at her own game!"

"No. If what I know is true, then the source of that power will not immediately destroy you, just as he did not then. My sources say that he is...benevolent. He will hear you, so long as you plead mercy beforehand."

Rufus then levitated to the door, she automatically rushed to open it for her superior before he could even ask.

Just as he was about to pass the threshold, she had a final question bubble up from her throat.

"Wait! Even if I somehow get its attention again, what do I even say? How do I get it-him to believe that I'm not trying to hurt him or the sirs of Ainz Ooal Gown?"

The commanding officer stopped in his tracks, pondering a moment.

"When he asks how you knew to come for him specifically, ask how it was on the morning of the Massacre of Helheim. He'll know what it means."

Without another word, Provida blinked, and then he was gone. Just...poof. She edged her head out of the doorway, looking both ways, but there was no sign of the mysterious undead.

She closed the door again, leaning her back against it as she slid down. Though she hadn't really done anything other than stand there and listen to the ancient undead, her heart was intent on beating itself out of her chest.

Everything she'd just been given was both so overwhelming and vague at the same time that she felt like her mind would split in two.

Massacre of Helheim? Trinity? Arrival of new gods? What did I get myself into with this exactly? One of these days I'm gonna figure out what his aim is, but for now...

She eyed the pile of literature scattered around her room. "I guess I have some more studying to do."