Chapter 3 - Chapter 20: Allies and Enemies

Chapter 20: Allies and Enemies

"Excellent." declared the Bloody Emperor, Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix, upon receiving news from a messenger about Ainz Ooal Gown's proposal for an alliance.

'Ainz Ooal Gown seems to possess a shrewd understanding of how to navigate these matters. I must remember this when dealing with him. My decision is clear. I shall accept his proposition.' He pondered, a sly smile gracing his lips.

"Send word back to the Imperial Knight and Commander of the current legions that I accept Ainz Ooal Gown's proposal for an alliance.

Inform him that I wholeheartedly embrace Ainz Ooal Gown's alliance offer. Additionally, extend an official invitation for him to visit the Imperial Palace in Arwintar, where we can discuss the details and commemorate this alliance." Jircniv instructed the messengers with utmost precision, ensuring no mispronunciations or errors in his words.

"That shall be all. You may depart." He dismissed the messengers, who bid their respectful farewells and bowed before making their way to their mounts.

'That was rather straightforward. Ainz Ooal Gown must recognize the benefits of our collaboration.' Mused the young Emperor, gesturing for his cup to be refilled with wine. 'Now, King Zanac, the ball is in your court.'

A familiar presence manifested within the opulent walls of the royal chamber, a place befitting a Supreme Being, meticulously crafted from the finest materials.

'Now that was easy.' Ainz mused, glancing at his glove, Generosity, which instructed the angel's hand to grant him the experience gained from the battle. A surge of essence coursed through his body, merging with his being.

He sensed a subtle change, rare but unmistakable. With a flick of his wrist, his guild weapon emerged from the depths of his pocket dimension, instantly materializing in his hand. He accessed the menu, revealing his levels, and discovered he had achieved another.

'I am now a level 2 Armored Mage, enabling me to cast Second Tier spells while armored. Progress may be slow, but I have no cause for complaint.' The ability to cast 2nd Tier spells while armored expanded his arsenal greatly, yet the truly formidable ones lay within the Third Tier.

'Now, King Zanac wanted to open negotiations about giving me E-Rantel. I should message Albedo for this.'

"[Message]" He cast, and in a second, the receiver of the message accepted.

{Greetings, My Lord. What can I do for you?} Albedo's response brimmed with cheer, having found joy in Ainz calling her.

{Albedo, the Re-Estize Kingdom wishes to invite me to their capital to discuss transferring E-Rantel to my control. Please arrange a suitable time for my visit and inform the Re-Estize troops stationed at the Katze Plains of this development. That would be most welcome.} He conveyed the details, and Albedo diligently noted every word.

{Certainly, My Lord. I shall act promptly. Is there anything else you require?} Albedo inquired, eagerly awaiting his response.

{For now, that is all. You are dismissed.} He concluded the communication swiftly.

Gazing into a mirror, a radiant light enveloped him, and he was adorned in his divine robes once more.

"Far more comfortable." Ainz remarked, content in his divine attire.

Soldiers sat around, their faces reflecting the horrors they had witnessed on the battlefield. They say there is no true victor in war, but this time it felt different. The enemy had not suffered a defeat, and they had surely been bested twice as hard.

"Curse those nobles and their wars! I need to return home... My wife, my children. They're starving!" One soldier cried out, collapsing to the ground in despair. The others watched, feeling his pain as they had families back home. Being commoners, the lowest rung of society, their absence could spell doom for their loved ones.

Amidst their grief, a distant sound reached their ears. Hooves galloping across the Katze Plains stirred some of them to their feet, but they paid a heavy price for their curiosity.

"What do you see, Tom?" A soldier asked his comrade, noticing the astonishment on his face as he gazed into the distance. Curious, the soldier turned to see what had captured Tom's attention.

His mouth fell open, and his eyes widened in fear at the sight approaching them. "Gods above..."

Four enemy knights rode toward them on their mounts, their presence alone instilling dread in each soldier's heart.

As the Death Cavaliers drew nearer, the Re-Estize levy stood back, watching the dark knights pass by, their eyes filled with terror.

The Death Cavaliers stared back, their blood-red eyes locking onto the soldiers, savoring the fear they elicited. If they were capable of smiling, they surely would have. But their mission demanded their focus. They were on their way to deliver a message to the King of Re-Estize about the proposed date for diplomatic talks.

King Zanac, meanwhile, sat at his desk, his head resting on his hand as he wrestled with his thoughts.

'What will come of this? I, as king, have failed in my first battle, surrendering without securing any concessions and now inviting the enemy to the Royal Palace for peace talks.' He questioned himself and his abilities to rule, doubting his intelligence and worthiness to wear the crown. Yet he would not abdicate that easily.

'What would my father have done? Likely not much different from what I have done, or perhaps he would have continued the assault and sacrificed his troops. He may not have been the wisest ruler, but his reign was peaceful if nothing else.' Zanac held his late father in high esteem, recognizing that he had chosen him to rule for a reason. Yet, he couldn't help but wonder if his father's assessment might have changed with the arrival of a specific individual in the capital.

'Now my brother is with him. He may hold no official power, but he still wields influence. If my brother can sway the nobles against me, he will certainly try. It's a matter of wits now. My current position does not bode well, and it may be an ill omen in the eyes of the nobility… And still, no sign of the imperial troops. Nothing…' This weighed heavily on the new king's mind. If Ainz Ooal Gown were to forge an alliance with the Baharut Empire, Zanac's situation would become even more precarious.

'I have to know if it is so. It changes everything.' He turned his attention to the commotion outside as the noise grew louder. Soon after, a soldier entered his chamber.

"Your Majesty!" The soldier said, bowing before Zanac. "Messengers from the enemy have arrived! They claim to have a response to the negotiations held on the plains." The soldier reported clearly.

Zanac rose from his seat and gestured for the soldier to stand. "I will meet with them. Follow me." He ordered, and the soldier complied.

Exiting the tent, he was met with an eerie sight. Four knights clad in the darkest armor stood before him, mounted on their ominous steeds.

"Greetings. I assume you are the messengers of Ainz Ooal Gown?" Zanac inquired, maintaining a regal demeanor as he faced the emissaries.

One of the knights stepped forward. Slightly distinct from the others, he bore armor with better protection and rode a more impressive mount, clearly the group leader. His helmet featured three metal spikes rising from the visor to the top, while the other knights had only one spike on their helmets.

"That we are. I bear a message from our Lord. He accepts your proposal for negotiations and has set the date for his visit to your capital in one week's time. I hope you will be prepared." The knight announced, and Zanac moved closer.

"Please convey my gratitude to your lord for accepting my proposal. We are most thankful." He said, bowing his head slowly, feeling a sense of inferiority in this situation. The soldiers around watched in astonishment as their king humbled himself before the mere knights of the enemy. It did little to bolster their confidence in him.

The knights uttered no further words and rode back to their camp. The soldiers could finally breathe freely without the oppressive aura the knights had brought.

Zanac simply watched them leave the camp, his teeth gritting as he balled both of his hands into fists.

'Now I will see who you really are, Ainz Ooal Gown. You are playing a dangerous game. And you know it.'

Zanac reentered his tent but was soon interrupted by another pair of soldiers galloping into the camp. Observing them closely, he recognized them as the scouts he had sent to search for the Baharut Empire's troops. 'Ah, yes. These are the scouts I dispatched.' He reminded himself.

"Your Majesty!" their squad leader spoke, kneeling before Zanac, followed by the rest of the scouts.

"Tell me, what did you discover about the Baharut troops?" King Zanac asked impatiently, anxiously awaiting their report as he nervously played with his fingers behind his back.

"The empire's legions are currently halted at a location of no apparent significance. However, we encountered envoys bearing the same emblem as Ainz Ooal Gown's." The scouts reported, and a surge of rage filled Zanac, almost palpable.

"Thank you for your report." Zanac replied with an unnatural calm, though inwardly, his emotions churned. With a forced smile, he retreated into his tent, where he rested for a while. But then it hit him like a bolt of lightning.

"Damn it all!" He screamed as he pounded his table, crafted from a rare wood found only in the northern reaches of Re-Estize.

'I must correct myself. A very dangerous game indeed.'

The Iron Butler, a creation of the almighty Paladin of Justice, found himself within a tent exclusively reserved for him. Although spacious enough to accommodate ten horses, it was more than sufficient for his needs.

'This only shows how deep they desire to ally themselves with the Supreme One.' He mused while sipping the tea provided by the servants. Though the tea was enjoyable, it paled compared to the exquisite flavors that Nazarick could offer. The difference was truly otherworldly.

For now, Sebas' task was to wait for the Emperor of Baharut's response. Given the empire's aerial troops, he surmised it would arrive within a day or less. Having waited about eight hours, he engaged in various activities, from reading books to taking strolls outside.

As he observed the empire's soldiers, he noted that they were trained to be the finest army among the human kingdoms.

'Impressive for a nation to possess such a sophisticated military, while other nations still rely on farmers and blacksmiths to form their troops. No wonder Lord Ainz seeks to ally with them.'

Unlike some other residents of Nazarick, Sebas did not harbor ill feelings toward humans. They were rather distasteful of humans, thinking of them as nothing but insects. But he thought differently. He saw them as misguided children who, under proper guidance, could achieve greatness.

'These legionnaires take their duty seriously. Comparing them to the kingdom's levies would be nothing short of a jest. It's a wonder the kingdom has survived with an adversary like the Empire.' He observed the soldiers training in mock battles to hone their skills. Some noticed Sebas and bowed, to which he nodded in acknowledgment.

'And they possess manners. How delightful.'

Upon completing his rounds, Sebas headed back to his tent. However, he was stopped on his way.

"Sir Sebas Tian, we have received a message from the Emperor. Please follow me." A knight requested respectfully, an offer Sebas could not refuse, literally.

"Of course. Lead the way to your leader." He replied, and they approached the camp of Commander Nimble. In Sebas' mind, Nimble was a young and somewhat naive boy who had yet to experience the world's harsh realities. Nonetheless, by human standards, the knight was quite skilled, and Sebas admired his dedication to the empire and his swordsmanship.

At Nimble's tent, the Imperial Knight awaited Sebas. "Greetings, Sir Sebas Tian. As you may have heard, we have received a message from His Imperial Highness, Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix. His Imperial Highness accepts the proposal for an alliance and graciously invites Lord Ainz Ooal Gown to the Imperial Palace in Arwintar." Nimble announced, displaying a scroll bearing the Emperor's sigil.

"I understand. I will inform my master immediately." Sebas replied, bowing before Nimble, who reciprocated the gesture out of courtesy.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Sir Tian. May you have a comfortable ride back home." Nimble bid farewell.

"Likewise, Sir Anoch." The Iron Butler returned to his tent, gathered his belongings, and departed in his carriage. He noticed that the empire did not prepare to leave. They seemed to be staying further.

'Time to inform Albedo.' Ensuring no one saw him, he placed his hand to his ear, sending a [Message] to Albedo.

{Sebas, what is it? Have you concluded the negotiations with the empire?} Albedo's soft yet authoritative voice responded.

{Yes, I have received a response. They wish to invite Lord Ainz to their capital. They have accepted the offer yet wish for Lord Ainz to meet the Emperor himself}

{So they want to invite Lord Ainz…} Albedo responded.

{It seems the Emperor desires to meet Lord Ainz face to face.}

{That shouldn't be an issue. Thank you for the report, Sebas. You will soon be picked up and brought back to Nazarick.} Albedo said.

{I understand. Farewell.}

After traveling a considerable distance, a black oval darkness materialized, engulfing the wagon and causing it to vanish without a trace.

Exiting the vehicle, Sebas faced a familiar structure and couldn't help but smile. 'It is good to be back.'

"Praise the Six!" Chanted over and over again, the room was filled with devoted words to each of the six gods.

"Praise the Six!" reverberated through the room, each word uttered with unwavering devotion to the gods. The atmosphere was thick with reverence as the young recruits, disciplined beyond their years, chanted in perfect unison.

Addressing the assembly, an elderly man projected his voice throughout the grand cathedral, reaching even the farthest corners. "You have been chosen, selected by our finest to become the elite Scriptures of the Theocracy. Your body and spirit must be wholly dedicated to serving humanity to the best of your abilities. From this moment forward, you are not merely devout followers of the Six but instruments of their will, destined to carry out their mandates across the world!"

However, the old man cautioned, "This honor comes at a cost. Your lives will be filled with danger, treacherous traps, and excruciating pain. You will lose comrades and friends, all in service of your duty. But do not despair, for those who perish do so in pursuit of a higher purpose that only the Six can fathom. They descended upon us, illuminating the path and shielding us from the malevolent creatures lurking in the shadows. Beastmen and demi-humans may possess strength and numbers surpassing our own, but they are secondary to humanity! It is your duty to safeguard the Theocracy with unwavering devotion. Praise the Six!" The elder's voice reached its crescendo, and the recruits echoed his words.

"Praise the Six!" they chanted, their countenances resolute, brimming with purpose and loyalty to their homeland.

"Now, your names shall be called and assigned to a specific Scripture." The man announced, receiving a scroll. He meticulously read each name, assigning them to their respective roles.

"Dalleon Yeoman Niffe, Holocaust Scripture. Reeve Klaus Dicken, Clearwater Scripture. Barnabas Daue, Ashendust Scripture. Jivete Auic, Windflower Scripture..." The man continued, methodically working his way down the list. Time passed, and finally, Helin's name was spoken.

"Helin Gaillard Lauransan... Redacted." The man declared. Helin felt a surge of frustration, shock, and disappointment. He believed he had performed admirably, but being excluded from a Scripture meant he was deemed a failure.

His peers cast judgmental glances his way, and he struggled to comprehend why he had not cut. He knew he was skilled, surpassing many others. Yet, he had not been granted a position in any Scripture.

Lowering his head, he sighed, feeling as though his efforts had been in vain. 'It was all for nothing.' He thought.

Helin remained without a placement as the session continued, and all the recruits were assigned to their Scriptures. Feeling betrayed, he observed the pride and joy etched on his comrades' faces. Clenching his fist in anger, blood dripped from his hands down to the floor.

'I sacrificed myself to get better, to reach my peak! And then this happens! Was I not good enough!' He questioned himself, doubting his abilities and worth in the Theocracy's eyes. It seemed he had been deemed unworthy of serving in the Scriptures.

"Helin Gaillard Lauransan! You may stay further!" The man called out just when Helin wanted to turn around and leave. His heart raced at the sound of those words. What did they want from him? To belittle him for his failure? To highlight his weakness? He did not know.

Nevertheless, he stood still and waited until everyone left.

"You may come closer." The man spoke, his face hidden by darkness.

Helin obeyed the command, stepping right at the front before the platform the man stood on. In the dim light, he could now discern the man's features. Despite his advanced age, he possessed an imposing stature. His attire denoted a high religious rank, though the specifics remained shrouded in secrecy.

"You may be wondering why you were not assigned to a Scripture," the man began, and Helin, formerly known as Nferia, nodded silently. "But there is a reason for this. What I am about to reveal must remain a secret, and you must swear upon the Six that you will never divulge what transpires here." The man's words puzzled Helin, but he dutifully complied.

"I swear, on the Six Great Gods, that I will never disclose what transpires from this moment onward." Helin vowed, raising his hand.

"Very well." The man acknowledged, retrieving a scroll from a nearby pedestal. "Helin Gaillard Lauransan, by the decree of the Six and the Council, you are granted a rare and esteemed position. You are hereby inducted into the most powerful and clandestine Scripture, the Black Scripture." The man's proclamation caused Helin to take a step back in shock. Entering the Black Scripture was considered impossible, an elusive privilege reserved for a select few. Or so he had thought.

"I understand that this news may be overwhelming, but now is not the time to dwell, for greater challenges lie ahead." The man continued, though his words barely registered in Helin's mind. They merely echoed within the vast hall, reaching the old man alone.

"I... I did it... I finally did it..." The realization washed over Helin, accompanied by a whirlwind of emotions. He gazed at his calloused hands, resulting from countless hours of grueling training.

For now, he only stood there, frozen in this thought. Not even recognizing that he was the only one left in the room, the man had left already.

'I did it!'

"I did it!" he exclaimed, but his joy was abruptly interrupted by a gust of wind that swept into the building. Startled, he swiftly turned to identify the source of the disturbance, only to find a closed door and candles which extinguished one by one. Darkness enveloped the space, yet Helin sensed something observing him.

'What is going on?' He questioned but found no answer and did not dare to ask whatever entered before.

Straining his ears and scanning every corner with his eyes, he sought any sign of movement but found none.

"[Continual Light]" He incanted, conjuring a radiant white light in his palm. Adjusting its intensity to its maximum, he could now see up to two meters without difficulty.

'Huh?' Curiosity piqued. He heard a stone fall to the ground from his right. Instinctively, he turned to investigate, unaware that this would be his first mistake.

As he turned, a sudden and excruciating pain surged through his back as if an immense force had collided with him.

"Gyahh!" he cried out, propelled backward and colliding with a nearby pillar. The impact shattered some of his ribs, leaving him with numerous bruises.

'W-What was that? It felt as if I got hit by a boulder.' But he had no time to question the nature of his enemy's attacks. He tried to get up, but again, he felt horrible pain. This time it was as sharp as a sword.

"Ahh!" He yelled out, feeling the pain emanating from his foot. It was undoubtedly a blade or some equally sharp weapon piercing his flesh. With trembling hands, he held out the casted light to examine the extent of the damage, only to gasp at the horrifying sight.

"No… No!" He shouted, staring at what remained of his left leg, now severed from his body. Blood spilled out profusely, staining the ground beneath him.

'What is happening?! What is happening?!' As panic and confusion gripped him, Helin's mind raced with questions, not helping him in this situation in any manner.

"What is going on?!" Helin screamed in pain. He held what was left of his leg in despair and wondered why he deserved this. "Why do you do this? Have I done something wrong?! I've given my best and sacrificed everything to come this far! And now you want to take it all away from me?!" He shouted into the darkness, but there was no reply, no answer to his pleas.

Then footsteps approached, and Helin turned his gaze towards the source, watching as a figure emerged from the shadows.

"You cry much." The figure remarked with a feminine tone, seemingly unfazed by the sight of his missing limb. For Helin, this was likely the one responsible for his suffering.

"[M-Magic Arrow]!" Helin chanted, pointing his hand towards the figure, conjuring an arrow of light aimed at his assailant. However, before it could find its mark, the arrow vanished as if it had never existed, deflected by some mysterious weapon.

Helin watched in horror, knowing few possessed such abilities. His eyes welled with tears as he sensed the encroaching grip of death.

"Some courage you have." She spoke again, her identity still concealed in darkness. A dark silhouette loomed before him, her weapon resembling that of a reaper's scythe here to collect his soul.

"W-What do you want from me?" Helin asked, desperately clinging to life as he felt his consciousness drifting away, probably from blood loss. If only he had his potions with him, he might have been able to stem the bleeding or give his body a fighting chance. But he was not allowed to take any belongings with him.

Yet, there was no response, only a swift kick to his abdomen that sent him sprawling further across the floor, his vision blurring with pain. His attackers' strike came in so fast he did not even see a thing, only a slight blur and then a burst of pain.

He inspected the place of the impact to see he was heavily damaged, with multiple ribs completely broken and his skin turning all sorts of colors.

Surveying the area for an escape route, he spotted the exit in the distance.

'There!' Summoning every ounce of strength left, he began crawling towards it, hoping against hope for a chance at survival.

"Where do you think you're going?" The voice now stood right in front of him, which was impossible. She was behind him, and he heard her not pass him. But after a closer look, he could see her form guarding the doors.

Shocked, Helin turned around and crawled on his back, trying to distance himself and the mysterious attacker as much as possible.

"[Acid Arrow]!" Helin attempted again to harm the woman, casting the spell in her direction. Yet, just as before, his attack was thwarted, the acid effortlessly deflected.

"Quite the courage. The others had all given up long before this point. But you are no different." She remarked casually. With a swift motion, she gripped Helin by the neck, hoisting him into the air with no problems.

Struggling to break free, he struck at the hand restraining him, but it was like striking steel, causing him more harm than his assailant.

Suspended in the air, Helin was granted a better look at her face. He saw only one eye, as white as snow, observing him intently, the rest of her features cloaked in darkness.

"Heh." She chuckled, seemingly amused by his agony. She then dragged him to the center of the room and tossed him to the floor.

'T-This is p-pain. I could have never guessed.' His entire body trembled, and horror consumed his mind as she drew near. Leaning over him, she paused momentarily before subjecting him to a barrage of stiff punches.

Each blow landed relentlessly, leaving his face battered and unrecognizable, blood flowing freely everywhere as she mutilated the boy.

"P-Please…" He managed to utter, summoning the last dregs of his strength. Briefly, she ceased her assault, only to resume immediately, delivering more punches. Blow after blow rained upon him until she seemed content with her handiwork.

"Welcome to the Black Scripture." She said before fading into the shadows, leaving him to confront the encroaching darkness.

Helin could only see a dark fog as if it called for him to leave the material plane, his mind on the verge of death. 'This is how I die?'

…

"Your Majesty? Your Majesty? Your Majesty?!"

King Zanac's eyes fluttered open as he emerged from his slumber, finding himself face-to-face with one of his servants within the carriage. His gaze then wandered to the window, revealing the vast expanse of grasslands outside.

"Are we here then?" Zanac inquired, and the servant nodded affirmatively.

"We are approximately five minutes from the Capital, Your Majesty." The servant replied, prompting a faint acknowledgment from the king as he peered out the window.

'It has been two days since the battle at the Katze Plains. I had to retreat cowardly and even invite the enemy to the capital. What a failure.' He thought. A throbbing headache accompanied the memory.

'I had instructed the nobles to replace my troops at the Katze Plains should Baharut launch an attack. Raeven will lead them in my stead. Nevertheless, it will inevitably tarnish their opinion of me. A king absent from a grand battle is an unprecedented notion. It seems another point goes to Barbro.' He ruminated further.

As time passed, the scenery transitioned from plains to villages until they finally reached the city gates. The carriage was granted immediate entry, and the streets were cleared to allow the procession to proceed to the palace.

"Prepare for the king's arrival!" Gazef Stronoff, the Warrior Captain, commanded his troops to stand in a row, welcoming the king as he arrived in his carriage. The Princess and her loyal knight were also present, waiting to receive him.

'Brother, you poor thing. Failed on the first battle. A feast for nobles.' Princess Renner mused, gazing in the distance and awaiting her brother's wagon. From the outside, she seemed as innocent as a Princess would be, but that was all a facade to hide her true devilish face.

Soon, the king's carriage strolled forward in the forecourt, trumpets blowing and soldiers stamping.

Soon, King Zanac's carriage glided forward into the forecourt, accompanied by trumpets and the rhythmic stamping of soldiers. Stepping out of the carriage, Zanac was met by the respectful bows of the royal guards lining his path, followed by the Warrior Captain, who mirrored the gesture.

'Stronoff's loyalty lies with my father. That I have to keep in mind.' Zanac thought as he passed Gazef, finally standing before his sister.

"Welcome home, Your Majesty." She spoke, bowing gracefully before looking up at him with a smile. Although not in the best of moods, Zanac did his best to appear pleased to see his sister.

"Sister, how good it is to see you. May you walk with me?" He asked, his tone more of a request than a command.

"Of course, brother." Renner replied, following him as they entered the palace. Climb, the loyal knight wanted to follow, but Zanac quickly commanded him otherwise.

"This will be a short private talk between siblings. Your presence is not required." Zanac stated, implying Climb should remain behind.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Climb responded, respecting the king's request while inwardly concerned for the Princess's safety. Despite his instincts urging him to follow, he remained still, dutifully awaiting the Princess's return. Unaware of the massive shadow cast over him by Warrior Captain Stronoff.

Suddenly, Climb felt a strong hand slap his head, and as he turned, he found himself face-to-face with a tall, tanned, and muscular man with dark hair. Warrior Captain Stronoff.

"Sir Stronoff? What was that for?" Climb asked, perplexed by the unexpected action.

Gazef's face displayed a mixture of disappointment and frustration. "You protect the Princess, right?" He inquired sternly.

"Y-Yes! But what does-" Climb began, only to be interrupted.

"This means no matter what happens. You will always protect her, am I right?" Gazef asked again as if testing the young man.

"Of course! I will lay my life down for the Princess!" Climb raised his voice, his determination clear.

"Then why did you let her leave without her?" Gazef asked Climb, who in turn looked at him with a confused face.

"B-But the king said so! If the king commands me-" Climb tried to explain, but Gazef cut him off.

"What is your task?" Gazef interjected, his voice unwavering. His eyebrows tilted down as he looked at Climb with a stern gaze.

"My task? I guard the Princess and provide protection in case of an attack." Climb replied, now understanding the Warrior Captain's message.

"Then you just failed your task. Let this be a lesson, Climb. Even if the king orders you not to protect the Princess, you should never back down so easily! You are her shield and her sword, and you should always be by her side!" Gazef's words resonated with determination as he imparted his wisdom to the young knight.

'I cannot guard the old king all the time anymore. But you Climb have all the time to protect the Princess.' Gazef thought as he passed those words onto Climb.

"I... I understand, Gazef. I'll do better next time, I promise!" Climb responded with sincerity, vowing to uphold his duty without compromise.

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have two kings to guard." Gazef said, bidding farewell to Climb before resuming his duties.

"So, sister. I have heard of the coming of my brother. Now, tell me, is it true? Is he really back?" Zanac asked with his head tilted to Renner, arguably waiting for an answer. If it was not clear yet, he wanted to know her side of the story.

Renner slightly turned her head and answered. "It is true. I have seen him regularly here at the palace. And as you would have guessed, he does everything he can to make chaos seem your fault." Renner's words held truth in Zanac's eyes since he suspected his brother would do that. Barbro was no sage nor fox, but rather a man blinded by his status that he deems himself the only worthy royal to rule Re-Estize.

"I had suspected so. But still, it is quite suspicious for him to simply appear out of nowhere as if nothing happened. Tell me, sister, has he said anything about how he came back or survived the battle? I was quite sure Father had seen his decapitated head, or was that an illusion perhaps?" He guessed, but it seemed so now that his brother was back.

"Barbro hasn't divulged much. He merely claims that his 'greatness' and 'strength' allowed him to return and claim the throne." Renner replied, her tone tinged with irony. Zanac chuckled lightly at her response.

"Well, our brother can be quite stubborn and won't accept me as the rightful king. Now, sister, how should I approach this matter? Should I declare him a traitor, imprison him, or endure his presence until he meets his own end?" Zanac proposed, seeking counsel from his perceptive sibling. Renner seemed in thought at his words.

"You have to remember that he has quite the support of the nobles behind him since he is the true heir to the throne, the eldest son, and one who holds martial strength. Not to say you are not worthy, but you simply lack the showmanship which many nobles like to see in a king, for example, be sufficient with a blade." Renner said, and to Zanac, this was no news, as he knew he lacked that part already. "But I think eventually he will make a mistake, as his patience is rather thin. He will try to persuade Father to revoke his decision, and if the nobles agree, you will be forced to abdicate. But if he has enough patience, let us not forget that." Renner advised, offering a strategic assessment of the situation.

"My, my sister, I should be grateful not to have you as an enemy. If so, you would have disposed of me long ago." Zanac teased playfully, acknowledging his sister's political acumen.

"Your luck, brother." Renner replied, her mind already twisted as a smile formed in her head. 'If you'd knew, brother.'

"I presume he's currently holding court in the throne room, boasting about his entitlement to rule in my stead," Zanac remarked nonchalantly as his brother's voice echoed through the door ahead. Though seemingly casual, his statement was rooted in the truth, which made the situation all the more amusing.

"With utmost certainty, I can vouch for your assumptions, brother." Renner chuckled in response.

Zanac motioned with a dignified gesture, prompting the guards to open the grand double doors for him and his sister. As they stepped inside, a remarkable sight unfolded before them. There stood his brother, as if time had stood still since his mysterious disappearance.

'I haven't missed that face a single day.' Zanac mused, masking his deep-seated resentment with a facade of calm composure. He approached his brother, who was engrossed in conversation with some nobles. As Zanac came into Barbro's view, the latter ceased his exchange and turned his attention towards his brother.

"If it isn't our king." Barbro quipped with his characteristic jesting tone, a title he never fathomed would be bestowed upon his younger sibling, adding a touch of inner pain to the jest.

"Brother, it gladdens me to see you in good health. Father and I feared the worst, but it seems you have fared quite well," Zanac replied, veiling his disdainful thoughts and putting on a friendly demeanor to maintain appearances.

"So you should. Nevertheless, I find myself quite disappointed." Barbro declared, taking a few steps around Zanac.

"And where would that disappointment lie, Barbro? Maybe it is in my power to fix it." Zanac retorted with a hint of a smile on Barbro's face.

"To my displeasure, it is. As the eldest son, I should have become king, not you. That was simply a mistake from Father. People in his age tend to do such things. But no matter, I have things to attend to. Enjoy your temporary position, Zanac." Barbro remarked, leaving no doubt about his contempt for his brother's kingship. He was unmanly, unskilled with the sword, and unappealing to the eyes. Barbro was better. Yes, he knew it! That was what fueled his spirit to strive for the throne.

"Wait." Zanac spoke deeply, akin to a command. And Barbro immediately recognized it but tried everything to resist the order. Yet, he realized that defying this order would mean the end of his schemes. Clenching his fists, he halted and turned to face Zanac and Renner.

"What do you want, My King." Barbro replied through gritted teeth, his anger barely contained.

"You haven't shown the proper respect a king deserves, brother. You, a royal, and my brother, after all, know the etiquette of how to behave when leaving the presence of a king." Zanac said, a slight smile adorning his face.

Barbro knew exactly what his brother expected of him. When Zanac pointed to the ground, the message was unmistakable.

"You dare…" Barbro murmured under his breath, but realizing the consequences of his defiance in front of the assembled guards and nobles, he complied with a slight bow before storming off in a fury.

One could see Renner and Zanac slightly chuckling at seeing their brother's behavior.

"Now, that was quite the jest. But let us return to more pressing matters. Sister, I assume you know Ainz Ooal Gown's upcoming visit?" Zanac queried his sister, who nodded in response. He marveled at her ability to be informed of the overt and covert news circulating among the courtiers and messengers.

"Good. This meeting will decide the future of our kingdom. Since Ainz Ooal Gown certainly has Baharut as an ally, they could give us a more than equal fight together." Zanac stated, lowering his voice to prevent eavesdropping as the room was rife with attentive ears.

"Of course. I heard rumors of the first battle and heard your army was defeated, with half of the troops lost to the enemy. Tell me, brother, do you expect the nobles to follow you after that?" Renner inquired, seemingly reading his thoughts. Zanac responded candidly, appreciating her astuteness.

"You ask good questions, Renner. But only time will tell, and my ability to keep the nobles at bay. While our father was an able ruler, he struggled to quell their ambitions. I hope to chart a different course, but I must admit my concerns about meeting the same fate as our father." Zanac admitted honestly.

"I am sure you will do great as king. In that, I believe, brother."

"Halt!"

…

"You may pass."

Through the forecourt of the Imperial Palace, a magnificent void-black carriage strode through, escorted by six pairs of Death Cavaliers at the front and the back.

The imperial soldiers found themselves awestruck, almost sensing a mystical aura when gazing upon the dark knights.

"We welcome the esteemed Lord Ainz Ooal Gown!" Announced the spokesperson as the carriage doors swung open, and Ainz's knights knelt in deference, awaiting their lord's descent.

Emerging from the carriage was a figure both imposing and noble, draped in dark purple robes billowing in the wind. Adorning the figure's shoulders, each holding a red orb, while a devilish mask with sapphire eyes replaced a human face.

The entire form of the man was cloaked, not a hint of flesh visible, yet he exuded an air of royalty, albeit with an underlying dark allure that seemed to absorb the very light around him. His shadow, larger than life, at times twisted with grotesque expressions as if striving to escape its confines.

With precise movements, the figure turned, leading his loyal knights toward the palace entrance, where servants and knights eagerly awaited his arrival. He signaled two knights to accompany him while the others remained poised until his return.

"I extend a warm welcome to you, Lord Ainz Ooal Gown. I am Loune Vermillion, trusted advisor to His Imperial Highness, Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix." Greeted the man respectfully, to which Ainz nodded in acknowledgment.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lounge Vermillion," replied Ainz, surprising the scribe with his deep and authoritative voice, which carried an air of gravitas. However, Loune remained composed and continued with his duties.

"Shall we proceed to the meeting grounds, Lord Ainz Ooal Gown?" Loune offered, and Ainz followed, taking in the palace's grandeur as they walked through its corridors, preparing for his encounter with the enigmatic Bloody Emperor.

'Truly an impressive place, though perhaps a tad excessive in size. The Emperor may never see every corner of it in his lifetime, even if he wished to.'Ainz mused as he walked, mentally preparing for his meeting with the Bloody Emperor.

Having expected a fierce, bloodthirsty ruler based on the name alone, Ainz was intrigued to learn that Emperor Jircniv was, in fact, a young and cunning individual, as revealed in recent reports.

Standing before the grand gates, Ainz perceived them to be the entrance to the room where he would meet the Emperor. Since they were meeting on equal terms, Ainz expected that the Ruler of Baharut wouldn't overstate his power or try to sway him to his side.

'Then let us begin.' He thought as he stepped forward, his knights following right behind him. He had resorted to the option of bringing one of the Guardians with him since they were already watching with a mirror and would act immediately if he were to get in danger.

The vast doors swung open, revealing a brilliantly lit chamber adorned with golden chandeliers hanging from a pristine ceiling adorned with oil paintings.

Amidst the opulence, one figure stood out. A man of average height, garbed in royal red and sporting sky-blue earrings.

"Welcome to the Imperial Palace. I am Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix, Emperor of the Baharut Empire." Introduced the Emperor, inviting Ainz to offer his introduction.

"I thank you for the invitation, Emperor Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix. I am Ainz Ooal Gown, Ruler of Nazarick," declared Ainz, drawing curious glances from those present. He knew what was going through their minds at the very moment.

'Nazarick it is then. I have to let search every record of that name in any books we have about history. And this place's ruler is certainly of a careful kind, even for a giant like him. I can see sense behind his every word.' Jircniv pondered as he prepared to continue their discussion.

"Then, let us sit down and discuss the reason for our presence here." Ainz suggested before Jircniv could interject, catching him off-guard, though the Emperor remained composed.

"Certainly, let us sit and enjoy the wine first. It hails from the Northern regions of Baharut, where it flows like a river. Believe me when I say it is the finest nectar you will ever taste." Jircniv proposed as they both settled on sofas opposite each other.

"Forgive my lack of appetite, but I graciously decline. Drinking before a diplomatic discussion might cloud my judgment. Nonetheless, I appreciate the gesture," Ainz responded, aware that as a vampire in human form, he could consume wine, but he chose not to, as he hadn't tested its effects yet.

Jircniv observed him for a moment before continuing. "Very well, I won't insist. I merely wished to share this delicacy with a future ally. If you change your mind, I'll have wagons filled with it sent to your location." The Emperor offered, attempting to entice Ainz with the finest wine.

"I will consider it. However, let us now discuss our true intentions." Ainz spoke deeply, adding a certain gravitas to the atmosphere.

Jircniv somehow felt pulled into the conversation by an unknown force, as if it wouldn't let him go until he finished speaking with the man before him. 'It seems I cannot corrupt him with wine. Women and gold are still to be found out.' He mused as he sent for a servant to bring forth a chest full of gold.

"I understand perfectly. But please accept this gift as a token of my friendship and a healthy alliance between our two lands. As you see, I cherish allies very much." Jircniv spoke with a measured tone as the servant carefully revealed the chest, unveiling an impressive display of gold bars that could sustain an entire city for a month.

But again, Jircniv failed. How did he know? Ainz his gaze was not fixated on the gold like other nobles he corrupted with his wealth. Instead, he looked at Jircniv with his face hidden behind the mask.

'This mask makes it quite hard to read him. Maybe I should persuade him to take it off. No, that would be too rude and direct.' Jircniv thought, contemplating future strategies.

"I appreciate your generous offer, and upon obtaining control of E-Rantel, I will donate this wealth to the orphanage. Rest assured. The credit will be attributed to you." Ainz replied, astonishing Jircniv with his unyielding integrity. A subtle twitch in the emperor's left eye hinted at his inner turmoil.

'Then women. It has to be. No man can resist all three!' Jircniv confidently asserted, convinced that this approach would prove effective. It was his belief that no man, not even himself, could withstand such natural temptations.

"More wine, please." Jircniv politely requested, prompting a young lady elegantly dressed to step forward and pour wine into the emperor's cup. 'She is a beauty indeed. Surely she will sway Ainz Ooal Gown's heart.' Jircniv thought to himself, though he quickly averted his gaze, understanding the potential distraction the woman's presence might cause.

"As you are aware, my claim lies on E-Rantel and the surrounding regions. The kingdom has already conceded the position and will transfer it to me in due time. By forming an alliance, neither the kingdom nor I will provoke each other, thereby creating a mutually beneficial situation. I am confident you are already well aware of this," Ainz stated calmly, appearing unaffected by Jircniv's attempts to breach his defenses. It was a clever trick he would use on everybody, but with certainty that the target would not find out about his deceptions.

Yet Ainz showed nothing but pure determination to finish the deal, and while he spoke, Jircniv could only listen to his words without being able to interrupt him. It felt like he was forced to let Ainz finish speaking until he could continue to do so. It was weird for Jircniv, but he ignored it for now.

"I understand. If we are in agreement, let us move on without further delay," Jircniv replied, signaling for another servant to present a sizeable scroll. He carefully placed it on the table before Ainz, who meticulously read each word.

'You always need to be careful with contracts. I, for example, should have read my work contract before signing it, but I doubt I could have convinced them to change anything since they don't care about a salaryman like me. But until now, I don't see any advantages Jircniv or I could abuse.' Ainz concluded that the contract was fair, devoid of loopholes or unfair clauses.

Jircniv patiently observed as Ainz read through the contract. When Ainz returned his attention to Jircniv, the emperor assumed the Overlord had finished reading.

"As you can see, it is a proposition for an alliance with terms equitable to both parties." Jircniv explained though he was certain Ainz was already aware of the details.

"Indeed, that much is clear." Ainz acknowledged, producing a pen from his robes and swiftly signing the contract, leaving behind black ink that bore the name "Ainz Ooal Gown" in all its splendor.

The Emperor followed suit, using a pen adorned with golden linings, its white color reminiscent of marble.

"Then it is settled, but if I may ask something, Lord Ainz Ooal Gown." Jircniv said, but Ainz suddenly halted him by raising a hand.

"Ainz will do just fine." He replied.

"Then Jircniv will do just fine as well. And what I wanted to inquire about. What do you propose to do next? The Re-Estize kingdom will now border your lands and not mine anymore. But, I would be open to providing troops to man your borders if you need any, of course." Jircniv responded, offering a deal that would be appreciated by many.

"I propose something different. You may establish strongholds at our borders, as we wish to avoid direct hostilities with the Re-Estize kingdom. Having your presence both within my lands and at their borders will suggest an impending attack on their territory." Ainz countered, recalling the strategy he had devised with Demiurge. He saw no reason to alter it for a man whose intellect was not even half as astute as the Arch-Devil's.

'That is exactly what I wanted to happen. But it seems he could perceive what would happen if he accepted.' Jirnciv thought.

"I understand. But do you truly believe the kingdom will still be on neutral terms after what your armies have done to them? But I suppose it is your decision at the very end. Let us leave it at that." Jircniv responded, masking any disappointment from his unsuccessful attempts to manipulate Ainz.

'I will find out what you want, what you desire. I will be the puppeteer soon. A great magic caster as an ally beside Fluder? What more could an Emperor wish. Wait, thats it! He is a mage, and like Fluder, only moved by the miracles of the arcane! WIth that knowledge, I should produce a better plan next time. ' Jircniv mused as a smile formed in his mind. His eyes scanned Ainz with exact precision, trying to find out any weakness he could exploit, any signs he would emit from his nonverbal communication Jircniv could use as an advantage.

"I agree. Our ties are fresh, so we must slowly build trust in each other. But I am to assume that your conquest of the Re-Estize kingdom will be halted indefinitely now that I rule E-Rantel? Suppose until we both agree on another war with them." Ainz conveyed.

In that case, we may continue our annual wars with the empire beyond your borders. However, the empire's troops must pass through your lands first for that to occur." Jircniv informed Ainz.

"Mmm, it appears that won't be necessary. If I change my mind, I shall inform you, Emperor Jircniv," Ainz replied, sensing that the meeting should draw to a close. "It has been a pleasure conversing with you, Emperor Jircniv, truly." He added, standing up, with the emperor following suit.

Still, he felt the difference in size quite clearly, the caster towering over him even more so than the tallest of the Imperial Knights.

"The pleasure was entirely mine, Lord Ainz. I wish you a safe journey home." Jircniv responded.

"We will see each other again. But until then, I wish you luck in your future endeavors, Emperor Jircniv." Ainz said, exchanging a final gesture before departing the room with his two knights.

Jircniv could only look at the spellcaster as thoughts hurriedly entered his mind.

'For a mage, he possesses remarkable diplomatic abilities. His intellect is quite impressive. I would have tried to manipulate the situation to my advantage were I in his position. However, despite rejecting most of my attempts, he did not take any actions that could grant him an upper hand. And his knights remain shrouded in mystery. I also wonder about the origins of this Ainz Ooal Gown.'

Back in his carriage, Ainz let out a sigh of relief, a seemingly unnecessary action for an undead being like him. Nonetheless, he felt a trace of mental fatigue, even if only a little.

'What was that? I read books about how such meetings happen, but this was one-third of the textbook! I know I wanted to learn a little about what it means to deal with another leader, but that was crazy! I should have taken Demiurge with me as an assistant, but I chose otherwise.' Ainz's thoughts swirled chaotically, but then a calming force settled over him, soothing his mind.

'I suppose I will have no rest since I need to drive to the kingdom's capital now. What a pity.' He mused as the towering walls of Arwintar vanished from his view, leaving behind the grand capital of the empire as he approached the Re-Estize border.

During the long journey, Ainz found himself alone with his thoughts, allowing him to reflect on his past, present, and future actions. These moments of solitude were rare, but he cherished them greatly.

'Why am I doing all of this? Am I merely going with the flow, or do I truly act on my own desires? I'm not entirely certain. My primary motivation is protecting Nazarick and ensuring its safety. Securing the neighboring regions is necessary for that purpose. But going beyond that and conquering the world? I see no significant difference between the humans here and those back in YGGDRASIL. Their greed and envy seem to fuel their daily lives. Considering that my tomb and I are here, I don't want this world to meet the same fate. Furthermore, I want to spread the name of Ainz Ooal Gown, sending a signal worldwide. Who knows, if any guild members are here, they might come to me.'

Ainz's thoughts drifted to the old days, reminiscing about his adventures with his comrades. Together, they took on quests, vanquished gods and monsters, and conquered various dungeons, castles, guild bases, and even demiplanes.

'Good old times. I still think about them. Could I beat Touch Me as I am currently? I suppose not unless I transform into the World Enemy variant of me, which could be easily evaded because it lacks any intelligence. A somewhat dangerous trump card. But I wonder why. The last player who became a World Enemy could easily control his actions. But I am unable to do anything. I guess I will find out sooner or later.'

As time passed, Ainz barely noticed, and a bright moon now illuminated the surroundings as his carriage continued its journey. There was no need to stop. The carriage carried on steadily, and the Death Cavaliers remained vigilant, scanning their surroundings for any potential threats.

A few kilometers ahead, there lay a den of bandits, harboring the worst of humanity, coerced into acts that the kingdom deemed punishable by death. The den boasted many deserters, thieves, and brutal thugs, all drawn to this stronghold nestled beside a spiky boulder, its formidable height surpassing a staggering 100 meters.

Strategically and diplomatically, their location provided numerous advantages. The bandits remained untouched at the border of two powerful nations, for neither dared to provoke the other by removing them from their territory. Furthermore, their secret location remained safeguarded by an unbreakable oath. Anyone who dared to betray the bandits would meet death.

The stronghold resembled a city of crime, a refuge for those seeking to disappear for a time. It was also a hub where various services could be procured, providing another reason no noble dared to confront them.

Surprisingly, despite not being led by the infamous Eight Fingers, they still heavily influenced the area. Each resident was compelled to align with a gang or clan lest they face exploitation, as no protection was offered there except by criminal organizations.

These unions would occasionally spark minor wars between factions, but a crucial rule prevented conflicts from escalating beyond the stronghold's borders. A rule they referred to as "Showdown."

This meant that the fighting parties would resolve their disputes in a gladiatorial-like arena. Each side could choose up to six champions, and the spectacle allowed any means necessary for victory. The winner would then have their demands met, but failure to honor the agreement would result in execution by the chief's enforcers.

The chief himself had not always commanded such authority. He had constructed the stronghold from the ground up, earning the respect of all who entered his domain. His leadership prowess stemmed not only from years of experience but also from his cunning intellect and survival instincts. He outwitted any ordinary thief, leveraging every advantage at his disposal.

Though not in his prime, he still posed a challenge even to high-ranked adventurers, bearing a scar from a battle with a group whose name he despised wholeheartedly.

Seated upon his chair, he gazed out at the stronghold below, perched in his elevated position. The fortress, mainly constructed from wood, boasted stone and gravel foundations and walls for better protection.

With his grey mustache and hair of a similar hue, his stern expression lent him an unfriendly appearance. He was far from ordinary, a man of both fear and respect and a commanding presence.

"Boss! Scouts said they saw a fancy carriage going down the road through the borders! Said they also saw many knights guarding it!" A slim yet muscular man entered the chief's overseer room, clad in simple leather and cloth attire, a short dagger hanging from his belt.

Turning slowly to face the man, the chief spoke in a measured tone. "Prepare the men, Sonny. This might just be the catch we've been waiting for."

"Sure thing, boss!" A smile spread across Sonny's face upon hearing the chief's words. "Finally, another noble to plunder!"

With resolve, the chief turned back, observing his men as they readied themselves, arming themselves with weapons and donning their best armor. He had meticulously forged a small army, and their loyalty to him was unwavering, even as criminals. The chief had given them purpose, a home, and a share in the riches they plundered.

Descending the wooden stairs, the chief joined his men, who stared at him with determination in their eyes.

"We have been rewarded greatly by a mysterious benefactor to do whatever we can to stop this carriage from moving! Pick up your weapons. For today we will have much gold to spend! Everything is allowed, from plundering to killing the noble in that carriage!" His voice rang out loud and firm, prompting his troops to cheer, their thunderous enthusiasm resonating through the ground.

"Now, go forth and teach them the price of crossing us!"

The Death Cavaliers rode forward, entering a much darker region filled with trees left and right. Slowly, the way sank into what seemed a valley, making this place the perfect place for a surprise attack.

As they moved, a sudden whistling sound heralded a barrage of arrows raining down upon the carriage and its defending knights. Despite their efforts to shield themselves, the arrows found their marks, sticking into the knights' armor as they turned to face the attackers. Yet no real damage was done, the knights now focusing their vision upon the attackers.

"Who dares to attack the convoy of Ainz Ooal Gown!" One said out loud.

Hundreds of armed men emerged from the tree cover, encircling the caravan with war cries and threats. Clad in various armors, brandishing daggers, swords, and halberds, the bandits seemed undeterred by the heavily armed knights before them.

"Your dead meat, you stinky pieces of metal!"

"Ya think ya can get outta this one! Better lay down your weapons, and we might spare ya!"

"I say we steal their weapons and gear and use it for ourselves!"

Taunts and challenges filled the air as the battle ensued, and though the Death Cavaliers were prepared, they couldn't help but wonder if these attackers were entirely sane or simply driven by madness.

The first bandit leaped down from above, attempting to catch a Death Cavalier off guard, but the knight's keen instincts allowed him to defend himself skillfully, pushing the assailant away with strength and precision.

The bandits attempted to strike at the knights, but their efforts proved futile against the skilled warriors. The bandits pressed on despite their inability to overcome the heavily armored opponents.

Some even targeted the carriage, hoping to plunder its contents, but each attempt was met with swift retaliation from the Death Cavaliers.

The battle raged on, with bandit corpses littering the ground, yet their numbers did not diminish as more reinforcements poured in from the surroundings.

Ainz observed the unfolding chaos with keen interest. 'They attacked even while knowing this carriage is guarded by fully equipped and armored knights? Am I crazy, or are these bandits not in their right mind.'

Suddenly, a thought struck Ainz's mind, and he decided to step out of the carriage to witness the commotion. Instantly, the attention of the bandits was drawn to the noble figure, their eyes filled with a greedy hunger, as if they wished to kill him and claim his valuable belongings.

"Now look at that! A noble coming outta his hole! Never seen that one!"

"He got some nice stuff on him! I would love to take it away from his corpse!"

All their focus was now on Ainz, and they charged him with malicious intent. Yet, his bodyguards formed an impenetrable barrier, preventing the bandits from reaching their target. However, Ainz had a different plan.

"Stop!" Ainz spoke with a commanding voice, and surprisingly, the bandits actually stopped their assault. "I wish no qualm with you. Please, let me speak to your leader, and we may find a better option to fight each other. I would even pay you in gold." Ainz proposed. The bandits exchanged thoughtful glances, seemingly overthinking Ainz's proposal.

"Sure! We'll bring you to our boss! If you have gold, there might be something we can discuss!" Said one of the bandits, identified as Sonny, with a chuckle. His command caused the others to laugh too, and they surrounded the convoy as they prepared to escort Ainz.

"But you have to come alone. Leave your pretty knights right here, would ya." Sonny insisted, prompting the Death Cavaliers to look to Ainz for guidance.

"I will come with you." Ainz said, mentally instructing his knights to remain vigilant as he stepped away from their protective formation and ventured into the crowd of bandits. They eyed him with wide grins as they led him toward their stronghold.

'Quite a fortress, even if a little old. I guess they live here.' Ainz thought, observing the grand structure before him. The gates opened, allowing him and the numerous soldiers to enter the stronghold. Despite their welcoming, weapons were still pointed at him, and the criminals remained ready to attack at the slightest provocation, anticipating an opportunity to kill him and seize his robes and jewelery.

"Chief! We got'em! He even walked here with us!" Sonny proclaimed with laughter, and the rest of the bandits followed his lead, their prying eyes fixed on Ainz.

'I suppose I should try to talk myself out of this one. Testing my charisma, why not.' He thought. If he finds himself in a situation where the one he would meet with is stronger than him, he would have to be able to talk himself out of his situation.

"So this is him, huh? My, my, aren't you quite the rich guy." The chief remarked, appearing before his troops, looking down at Ainz from a platform. Behind him stood various bodyguards, prepared to intervene if necessary, while the residents of the stronghold watched the scene with keen interest.

"My apologies for this intrusion. I was unaware that this route belonged to, well, your territory. But I accept responsibility for my mistake and am prepared to offer suitable compensation to continue my journey." Ainz explained, deliberately making it seem like they held the upper hand. The chief but laughed heartily at his words, though his expression quickly turned serious.

"A noble will try everything to get out alive, wouldn't he?" The chief mused, descending from the platform and approaching Ainz, looking down at him. "Quite big for one of your kind, are you? So, what do you propose?" The chief asks, lifting a brow at Ainz as he awaits a response.

"I am prepared to compensate with gold or any other form of payment you may desire. Whatever you wish." Ainz replied, provoking another dramatic burst of laughter from the chief.

"You really think you got enough money with you? Then let me give you a price. Five hundred gold coins right now, or you will stay here a little longer." The chief said, gesturing for his men to seize Ainz from both sides.

"I see. Covering that would be something I could do, but I propose something different. If you allow me to speak my mind." Ainz said, piquing the chief's interest.

"Do tell. If you want to give us even more money, we got no problem with that." The chief responded with a sly smile.

"Your stronghold, I would like to hire it under my cause. Entirely." Ainz said, the crowd going quiet at his words as they stared at him bewildered. Suddenly, the chief burst out laughing, the rest following soon.

"Now that's a joke if I ever heard one! Ha! As if! No, you are full of bullshit. I got that out by the second you opened your mouth. And I think it's time you pay what you owe us." The chief said as he signaled his men to grab Ainz on each side.

"You gonna give us all you have." One of the bandits declared, reaching for Ainz's necklace. But at that instant, he was hurled away, as were all the other bandits in Ainz's vicinity, propelled by a powerful force.

"[Shockwave]" Ainz intoned, astonishing the nearby soldiers as every thug near him was either thrown away or crushed under the pressure. Only a pool of red remained where men once stood.

"He's a goddamn magic caster! Kill him!"

The bandits launched another attack, throwing spears and arrows at Ainz. Though they worried about damaging his belongings, they did not care

To their bewilderment, the arrows bounced off him, as did all other weapons, halted by an invisible barrier just before reaching him. Undeterred, the bandits continued their assault, trying to pierce, slash, or crush Ainz, but he evaded each blow with precision.

"I thought I was quite clear that I wanted to hire you. But I suppose dealing with lowlife like yourselves is never good." Ainz stated, snapping his fingers, causing the gate behind him to burst into pieces as his knights stormed into the stronghold, massacring any bandit in sight.

Ainz turned his gaze to the chief, aware of the man's intent to attack him directly.

"Fine, I'll deal with you myself!" The chief declared, unsheathing two whips from his belt. The whips emitted a faint light reminiscent of fire.

'Does he have enchantments on his whips? I wonder what it is.' Ainz mused as he closed in on the chief, who seized the opportunity to attack.

"Leave yourself wide open, good boy!" The chief taunted, activating a martial art unfamiliar to Ainz and launching an assault from both sides. However, just before the whips could hit their target, they were thwarted by an almost invisible barrier.

Frustrated, the chief pressed on with the attack, only to be met with the same resistance.

"You damn magic caster and your tricks! I'll teach you real fear!" The chief growled, increasing his offensive as his strikes grew in speed.

He swung his whips around the mage's hands, finally successfully attacking his opponent.

"There you go!" The chief said as he tried to swing his whips to throw Ainz to the ground, but the mage before him did not move as he tried. "What's this?!" He tried again, but nothing happened. "What tricks did you use, mage?!" The chief shouted but was taken aback when a menacing chuckle emanated from Ainz.

Interesting. I haven't seen a weapon like this since arriving in this world. Fascinating. It appears to have great knockback, stamina-draining, and slowing effects. But no matter." Ainz spoke out loud, the chief not comprehending his words, but as Ainz removed the whip from his arms, he was ready to attack again but found no trace of the mage, as if he had disappeared entirely.

"Behind you." He heard a voice and was already immobile when it was too late. As much as he tried to move his body, he simply could not.

"[Charm Person]" Ainz cast on the man, and the chief's expression changed from fury to a neutral tone.

"Hello, my friend." The chief greeted him, and Ainz approached him with ease.

"Tell your soldiers to cease fighting." Ainz commanded, and the chief dutifully complied.

"Stop attacking, you bastards! They are friends now!" The chief said, surprising most of the soldiers. They reluctantly obeyed, fearing the consequences of disobeying their leader.

"Now, chief, or whatever your name is, you will work for me from now on. I assume your stronghold relies on the income generated from the surrounding people. In the future, you will attack villages within the kingdom regularly. Is that clear?" Ainz asserted, adopting a commanding tone.

"Of course." The chief replied submissively.

"Good. Then I shall return to my carriage now." Ainz said, entering the carriage that had followed him to the fortress. With his knights by his side, he departed from the stronghold.

The bandit soldiers watched with confusion and disbelief. First, they were ordered to attack and then told to let them go. Nevertheless, they understood that their chief had been presented with an offer he couldn't refuse.

Gazing out over the sprawling city below, the King of Re-Estize eagerly awaited the arrival of the enigmatic figure known as Ainz Ooal Gown. A terrible person, as Zanac believed. But he had still to meet the man.

'This will be a chance to see who this Ainz Ooal Gown really is. The Warrior Captain's words are vague and somewhat believable. But I want to see him with my own eyes.' Zanac pondered, acknowledging the vague yet intriguing words of the Warrior Captain.

As a carriage bearing Ainz's banner entered the palace grounds, he realized the figure had already arrived. 'It seems he is already here.'

He moved himself to the throne room, where many nobles awaited his arrival. They all knelt at his sight, all but courtesy, as they had their own twisted thoughts about the young king.

Moving to the throne room, surrounded by nobles who held their own twisted thoughts about him, Zanac took his seat. His sister was already at his side, but his father and brother were absent. 'I wonder what Barbro is up to. I hope he will not disturb the negotiations with Ainz Ooal Gown. That would be most unwelcome.' He thought, knowing his brother's unpredictable nature.

"Announcing the arrival of Lord Ainz Ooal Gown, Ruler of Nazarick!"

The grand doors swung open, and all eyes turned to the entrance. A man of extraordinary height stood exuding an air of regal superiority, draped in luxurious attire. Yet his face remained concealed behind a mask that bore a devilish grin.

The nobles observed Ainz with a mix of interest, disgust, and outright hatred. They would have dealt with him on the spot if it were within their power. The idea of a rogue magic caster, presuming himself greater than nobles and kings, treading on their turf was abhorrent to them.

However, as Ainz Ooal Gown stepped in, an eerie sensation spread through the room, rendering them all silent.

"I bid you welcome, Lord Ainz Ooal Gown. I am King Zanac Valleon Igana Ryle Vaiself, Ruler of the Re-Estize kingdom." Zanac spoke with practiced eloquence, his sister respectfully bowing her head toward Ainz.

'What a welcome. None here seem to like me, but it is supposed to be that way.'

"I thank you for the invitation, King Zanac, or may I call you so? You may call me by my forename as well." Ainz responded, displaying a degree of courteous assertiveness that unsettled the nobles further.

"Of course, Lord Ainz. Now, let us turn to why we have met today. The battle at the Katze Plains has made it quite clear. We will give you the city with no other conditions." Zanac stated candidly, eliciting confusion and anger from the nobles. Surrendering a city to someone with no legitimate claim to E-Rantel was preposterous.

"I appreciate your decision, King Zanac. However, would it be possible for us to move to a more discreet location?" Ainz inquired, his eyes scanning the nobles, ready to burst forth.

"That can be arranged. Please follow me." Zanac replied, gesturing for his sister and the Warrior Captain to accompany them.

They retreated to a secluded room, where Ainz and Zanac sat at a large table opposite each other.

"Now, this is more appropriate, is it not?" Zanac remarked, and Ainz nodded in agreement.

"It is. Now, let us talk about when the transfer will take place. I take it as soon as possible. But how soon would E-Rantel be ready to be under my rule?" Ainz inquired, genuinely curious about Zanac's response.

'Already asking, are we? If I could only see your face, but I think you are in too high of a position for me to request that. He is no mere man to fool. That much is visible. Just from where did you come from?' Zanac secretly thought as he looked at Ainz, remembering he had to answer Ainz's inquiry.

"Yes, I believe one month will be enough. But I want to ask you something if you don't mind." Zanac said with seriousness, capturing the attention of both Renner and Stronoff.

"Please, speak your mind, King Zanac." Ainz granted permission, awaiting the king's inquiry.

"From what Gazef had told me, you were quite respectable until you were known for your cruel ways and ruthless army. Yet now you attack us. What do you gain out of this?" Zanac asked directly.

Ainz paused for a moment as if contemplating the question deeply. "It is because I am selfish and do it because I want to." He answered, choosing to withhold the details. He knew not to reveal too much to an enemy ruler, even though he held some respect for Zanac.

Zanac initially found this answer absurd, but upon reflection, he understood that most actions were driven by selfish motives.

Gazef Stronoff carefully observed the exchange, finding Ainz to be the same person he had met before. 'He has not changed a bit. Then I wonder why he does this. But he said that already. Still, was all that necessary?'

"I see. I thank you for answering my question." Zanac replied, no longer having further questions.

"No need to thank me. But I feel your Warrior Captain wants to speak to me for a while." Ainz remarked, turning his mask towards Gazef, who appeared quite taken aback. And indeed, Ainz's intuition was correct. Gazef glanced at King Zanac, who gave a nod of approval, granting him permission to speak with the sorcerer.

"I see you have not lost your touch, Lord Ainz." Gazef spoke in a neutral tone, revealing a hint of weariness towards the man he once regarded as a savior, now turned enemy of the kingdom he was sworn to protect and serve.

It played with his mind for a while, but his strong will allowed him to see how it was clearly. Ainz Ooal Gown was an adversary who was willing to do anything to safeguard his king.

"It has been quite some time since our last encounter. I assume you had envisioned a different reunion." Ainz replied. Gazef looked at him and couldn't help but notice that the sorcerer hadn't lost an ounce of his charisma.

"Indeed, Lord Ainz. The future has a way of surprising us." Gazef responded sincerely from the depths of his heart. Still, it was difficult to accept that a man he once esteemed and still held in high regard was now his enemy.

Ainz let out a subtle chuckle in response to Gazef's words. "Please excuse my behavior, Gazef. I wasn't laughing at you or your words, but rather the irony of it all. Your suggestion holds undeniable truth, which struck me as humorous. Nevertheless, it is a pleasure to see you again, Gazef Stronoff." Ainz said, and Gazef noted the genuine respect in his words.

"The feeling is mutual, Lord Ainz. May we meet again, hopefully under different circumstances." Gazef replied before stepping back to allow King Zanac to continue the conversation.

"Very well, then. There is no more to discuss. I will ensure the transfer proceeds smo-" Zanac began, but before he could finish, the doors burst open, slamming against the walls.

Walking in was a man known all too well to the two royals, his face red with visible anger. Behind him, a row of nobles positioned themselves to witness the unfolding scene, eager not to miss a moment of the spectacle.

"How dare you, as a king, converse with the enemy!" Barbro screamed at the top of his lungs as he approached his brother, who met his fury with anger and pure disdain.

"What are you doing, brother?! We are in the middle of negotiations!" Zanac retorted, equally furious, as he stood up, trying to lessen the height difference between them, both brothers now face to face.

"You are a pathetic excuse for a king! Your first battle was a defeat, and your response? Surrender to the enemy!?" Barbro's words sprayed Zanac's clothes with his saliva, but the king paid little attention to his brother's inability to control his outburst.

"I suggest you leave now, brother! Or the consequences will be swift and harsh!" Zanac said in a tone he found menacing. He quickly glanced outside the room, observing the nobles watching with rapt attention. Then, he looked at his guards, wondering if they awaited his orders.

Barbro, however, remained unmoving, his eyes seething with animosity. Suddenly, he cast a gaze at the man seated opposite the table.

If one listened closely, one could hear an audible gulp from the prince's throat. His eyes widened momentarily, and an inexplicable fear gripped him as he stared at the man behind the devil's mask. Anger mingled with this fear. A natural human response to protect against perceived threats.

Without uttering a word, Barbro stormed out, pushing aside the nobles as if they were mere obstacles in his path. "Out of the way!" he bellowed, and the nobles quickly complied.

"Close the doors!" Zanac commanded his guards, and they swiftly obeyed, blocking the view and sound of what transpired within the room from the outside world.

Gazef refrained from intervening, waiting to see if Barbro would escalate the situation into a physical attack against the king. As the prince's brother, there was little he could do without being punished for assaulting royalty.

"Please, Lord Ainz, forgive my brother. I hope this incident has not altered our discussions." Zanac spoke while his sister remained still, her gaze never leaving Ainz, even when Barbro obstructed her view.

"I accept your apology. However, ensure your brother learns some manners. If he dared such behavior towards me, I would have him imprisoned or possibly expelled from my realm already. But that is merely my perspective." Ainz replied, leaving Zanac wide-eyed with comprehension. Renner understood the message as well.

"Now that everything has been said, if you'll excuse me, King Zanac, I shall take my leave and, with it, the rightful claim to rule over E-Rantel and its surrounding regions." Ainz announced as he stood up, followed by Renner and Zanac. It seemed as if he already owned the city, speaking of it as one of his possessions.

"We wish you the best of luck, Lord Ainz." Zanac wished, and the imposing Overlord departed the room, leaving the three of them behind, Zanac, Renner, and Stronoff.

"What an intriguing individual. It seems your assessment of him was not exaggerated, Stronoff. However, as fascinating as he is, he is also dangerous. Still, I will not punish you for your opinions of the man," Zanac said, breaking the silence as he peered at the door through which Ainz had departed.

"I believe you have done just right, brother. But also the words Ainz Ooal Gown gave you about Barbro. They hold some truth. If you do not act against his actions, he will do anything to get you off the throne." Renner interjected, capturing Zanac's immediate attention.

"True words, sister. Yet if it were that easy."

The tolling bells echoed in the resounding silence of what was once a thriving city, filling the empty streets with a haunting melody. Once bustling with merchants, adventurers, and outlaws, the town now resembled a desolate ghost town, where only the wind's lament and the chime of the city's bells remained.

The gates creaked open, revealing a procession of marching troops heading toward the town's entrance. There was no welcome for these newcomers. Rather, only a few brave souls dared to stand outside, while most feared the inevitable change.

Rumors spread like wildfire through the commoners and nobles alike that a new lord would take charge. A dark sorcerer commanding an army of knights as formidable as ten men, each as tall as a small tree. The superstitious whispers reached every corner of the city, but the commoners had no choice but to stay put, lacking the means to seek refuge elsewhere.

Through the imposing gates emerged the Dark Paladins, holding the banners of Ainz Ooal Gown aloft, their crimson flags billowing in the wind as they became the focus of both awe and dread among the common folk.

The knights who wielded these banners were no less imposing, just as the stories and tales described. Full-plated armor is far from what a knight should wear, rather a picture of darkness and evilness. They instilled fear in any who gazed upon them, making them flinch.

"Give me back, my father!" A childlike voice called out. It was a boy, less than ten. He held a rock in his hands, which he threw at the knights. The attack momentarily halted them, prompting two knights to confront the boy. A woman quickly appeared, rushing to protect the child, her tearful pleas for mercy falling on the armored ears.

"Please, he did not mean it that way!" She shouted, crying as she pleaded for mercy.

Amid the parade, an ethereal beauty emerged, her curved horns and feathered wings setting her apart from the rest. Clad in an enchanting white dress, she wielded an enigmatic black staff with a floating orb at its tip, which transformed into a colossal axe as she raised it threateningly.

"Disrespect against my lord will be punished by death." She proclaimed, her voice echoing with authority.

Suddenly, a sword slammed into the ground before the horned demoness, cracking the earth beneath its weight. The knight clad in jet-black armor who followed was unmistakably different from the invaders. He was a symbol of hope, a hero among men, revered as a godkin by some. He was Momon, the Raven Black Hero.

"I am Momon, the Hero of E-Rantel! The people of this city are under my protection, so face me if you seek to harm this child!" Momon's voice resonated, secretly drawing cheers from onlookers who found joy in his appearance.

"Did I make myself not clear enough? Anybody who dares to disrespect Ainz Ooal Gown will be punished by death." Unfazed, the woman reaffirmed her warning, but her words were cut short as someone appeared behind her. A touch on her shoulder made her instantly recognize her master's presence.

"Oh, Lord Ainz." She acknowledged as her lord conveyed something to her in a hushed tone. "Very well. My master has a proposition for you, Momon. Join his rule, and he will show mercy to the citizens of this city. You can oversee our actions, intervening should we harm the city's residents. But you must follow my master's orders. Otherwise, you'll face exile or imprisonment." The demoness spoke with clarity and authority.

Momon deliberated for a moment, considering- the offer. Finally, he reached a decision.

"I accept. But I shall come for you should any harm befall these people!"

discord . gg / h6cpJ5d3xh

Here's my discord invitation code. Join if you're interested in becoming a proofreader of my next chapters, or you just want to hang around. Both work.

Notes: So here you go. Ainz now officially has his own small kingdom, after 20 chapters. Still, nobody knows about his undead nature since I intend to keep that a secret for a longer time. Until then, let them think Ainz is simply a very powerful mage like Fluder with the backing of an army.

Also, I will try to create a bigger role for Helin(Nferia), in this fic, as well as Climb. Both are rather limited characters that get easily abandoned, like Nferia, which wasn't mentioned much after his arc was done.

Now Gazef is still alive, which changes things. He'll be around for longer, since he is an interesting character.

Hope this chapter is enough for now, since I won't post much in the next four weeks. Peace.

Questions:

Can Ainz create World Items?

-No.

Why doesn't Ainz transform into his World Enemy form and create unlimited items?

-Because he can't control that form. I'll explain it simply. Since the abilities Ainz can select never got in the game, they never got fixed or updated. And since the devs are lazy, they simply made the ability so that it overwrites the player's data instead. Yes, his player data was used, but its rather a real World Enemy instead of Ainz controlling it. One can say it is a second personality, or not. To explain it profoundly is rather complicated, so take my word for it that he can't control his form for now.

Doesn't Ainz have the 9th tier and below immunity? How did he take damage? Chapter 2

-Don't know where that question came from, but your wrong. Ainz has immunity to 6th Tier and below.

Can Ainz place a [Leaf of Yggdrasil] on any item and make it a world item?

-No. Sadly, this is not possible. He could try to replicate his guild weapon, since he can now simply create the materials needed. He would somehow need to apply the guild weapon status to the second staff, which should not be possible since there can only be one guild weapon. Can he create anything up to divine class items, but world items? Not beyond his staff.

Will Ainz lose his V-Card?

-Please, I'm a serious author. There will be no harem, smut, lemons, or any s-scenes in this fic. I do not want to promote my fic with such things, instead invite people to read a good Overlord story. Many fics containing the things I stated above simply do this because of their own lust or to attract more readers. Fanservice, which I hate. He will have, maybe, big maybe, children in the future. But not of the typical kind. Something like Rubedo.