Night’s cloak was Clementine’s favorite attire. Amidst the great graveyard of E-Rantel where the dead existed alone, their own little world apart from the city. Stone graves and small monuments dotted the area like a little forest of stone. She wove in and out of their haphazard emplacement, a disorderly place. Were she not who she was and what she was, she’d have tripped a thousand times.
As it was, the darkness proved no barrier to her, so she sprinted like the wind, the cool air rushing past as she pushed through it, her feet trod on the graves of the dead without care for the insult done to them. Her short blonde hair hung loose, framing a twisted smile that, had it been seen, would have appeared to grow more twisted with every insulting step over the corpses of the fallen.
At the center of the great expanse was a single tomb, a deep one, reserved for the wealthiest of the wealthy who were kept superior and apart from the masses even in death, by having this place to rest all to themselves.
Illuminated by magic, even that soft white glow could not touch the deft movements of the woman who wore light leather armor to which countless small adventurer plates had been sewn like a kind of armor over her breasts and upper thighs. She wore long leather gauntlets and gloves, and at her sides were two sets of enchanted twin stilettos. The way they tapped against her body during the run ceased almost the moment she’d begun to sneak.
Her breasts rose and fell very slowly, the run she’d just engaged in would have worn out a common person, and would be very difficult for a soldier even without the obstacles, but for her it had been barely more than a jog.
She went unnoticed by the light until she was within the deepest recesses of the tomb, said to be one of the oldest segments, holding some of the nobles and wealthy elites of E-Rantel from some six centuries earlier. There, nobody would be disturbing the living who chose to occupy it.
“Helloooooo!” She announced, and taking out a stiletto, she began to toss it idly in her hand. The figure she spoke to was someone like her, at least somewhat.
He was cloaked, hooded in red, and held a staff in his right hand. He was hunched, old, and grim faced. Utterly unlike the blonde woman in every way.
Every way but the one that mattered to them both.
He stood over a corpse, completed his spell, and the body began to move.
She barely noticed when the skeleton got up and went to where he pointed.
They were both utterly twisted.
“Hellooo Dale! I’m here, pay attention to me!” She put her hands on her hips and leaned forward a little, “You can’t call a pretty girl like me out into the dangerous dark, all the way here, and then just ignore her.”
“I know, Clementine, I know.” Dale said to the blonde and turned around to greet her.
Clementine was almost to Dale an instant later, her powerful legs launched her forward, and her stiletto thrust forward ready to pierce his heart. Instead it struck a wall of bones and stopped dead as the bodies that lined the room in the various catacombs that had been dug into the earth and lined with stone as a kind of bedding.
“Don’t try that again, or I’ll kill you. And don’t call me Dale. Or would you like me to call you ‘Clemenjuice’ again?” His humorless face formed a toothless open laugh, and her eyes narrowed.
“Try to squeeze me, old man, and it’ll be me who does all the thrusting.” She said, though she stopped her attack, stepped back, and sheathed her stiletto in a sharp motion while keeping her eyes on him.
“It was your thrusting that got you that nickname.” His mocking laugh drew an appreciative one from herself as she acknowledged the truth of her sadistic nature.
“You got me there, Dale.” She teased him with a wolfish grin.
She stared at him steadily, then pouted at his poker face.
When she grew bored, she looked around, “Where’s the rest of your little club?” She was right, they were alone but for the dead and the undead.
“Do not refer to Zuranon as a ‘club’, you make it sound like we’re ladies at tea.” His eyes narrowed and he clutched his staff a little tighter.
“Oh no, no. I’m sooo sorry.” She gave him a mocking apology, “As a token of my regret, well, I have a little trinket for you.” She reached into the pouch at her side and took out a little circlet with jewels dangling down around it, a spiderweb design ran up and down, and at its center a gem as dark as the night through which she’d run.
Khajiit gasped and forgot her previous use of his second name. “This is-”
“Yep,” Clementine giggled almost girlishly, “The Crown of Wisdom from a Miko Princess, one of the treasures of the Theocracy. I took it off some poor girl whose head seemed weighed down by this heavy old thing. But, I guess she liked it a lot, because as soon as I pulled it off her blonde little head she started screaming, raving, and screaming some more. She had a little accident though, and fell onto my stiletto.” The giggle became a cackle as Clementine recalled the death.
“It is also useless trash.” Khajiit groused, “If nobody can use it, what good is it? You’d have been better off bringing me a treasure of the six great gods. That… is pretty little garbage. Barely one girl in a million can wear that and survive, let alone become a magic item I can use for high tier spells. If I don’t have such a person, then?” He tapped his staff on the stone beneath his feet, the echo resounding off the walls of the tomb for several lingering seconds.
“Even I wouldn’t want to tangle with the pervert they’ve got guarding the treasures of the six gods.” Clementine let out a shudder, “Back when I was still part of the Black Scripture, I fought the best of their best, and like all the rest of them, I couldn’t lay a hand on her. She’s beyond humanity, and beyond perverted.” She scrunched her face in distaste. ‘Who would really lie with a monster just to ensure they have strong children. A real pervert, that’s who. She should just get off on murder, like me, like a rational person.’ Clementine thought.
“I’d have to take your word on that kind of strength, though I suppose it would take something like that to deter you.” Khajiit admitted with some unhappiness. He hated crediting anyone with telling the truth, but in the time he’d known Clementine, she’d never spoken of anything as unbeatable as Zesshi Zetsumei, the one who guarded the treasures of the gods.
He chose instead to go back to her question rather than continue, “The rest of my disciples are in other parts of the tomb, they gathered enough negative energy to raise skeletons themselves even with their own weaker pools of mana. Thanks to the orb of death, this is much more efficient.”
He caressed the spot in his robe where the orb sat, though it had a twisted personality, comparable to Clementine herself, it was always eager to help where death was involved.
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“That’s good, because guess what, there’s a guy in E-Rantel who can use the crown...if you’re still interested in getting your mommy back.” She winked at him, and Khajiit was all ears.
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‘So real.’ Ainz thought when the chirping of the birds hit his ears and they went along the road, the warm sun that beat down on his magically created armor, was in a word, delightful. It was hard not to smile about everything. Not for an instant did he miss his old life. ‘I may not look like my old self, undead or living, but thankfully I don’t ‘feel’ like my old self either. My old body was in such poor shape that even ten minutes like this would have had me collapse.’ More than once he felt his hands coming up to flex his fingers, and the desire to feel the weight of his twin blades kept gnawing at him like an itch he just couldn’t scratch.
“By the way, there are some special herbs I want to collect on the way to the forest, but I checked before the journey, and it seems some goblins and ogres were sighted in the area. We’ll be taking a little longer of a route than usual. Please be on your guard.” Nfirea didn’t sound nearly as nervous as his seemingly frail body should have made him, and Ainz’s estimation of the youth went up another notch or two.
Peter glanced behind him to where Ainz walked at the back of the cart, “This is your first time out, so forgive my asking, but are you two sure you’ll be okay?”
Brita laughed at the question before either Ainz or Lupusregina could answer, “I told you Peter, he threw Big Richard like a rag doll, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Strength is great, but Brita, you should know that isn’t everything.” Peter’s concern was unabated.
“Not to worry, we can handle anything we’re likely to encounter out here.” Ainz’s voice was steady and calm, and Lupusregina chimed in her own opinion.
“I promise we won’t embarrass you in front of the client… too much.”
“Your kindness, it touches me!” Lukrut said, clutching his chest at the heart.
“Careful boy, I touch you and it’ll be to hurt you!” Lupu taunted him, then bending down, she picked up a small rock in her palm, held it out, and while he looked at her, she slowly closed her fingers over it, and squeezed.
A moment later she opened her fingers, and it was broken to pieces. She tilted her hand to the side, letting the new ‘pebbles’ fall down to the ground in front of her, where they were promptly stepped on. She ground her foot into them for good measure. But the smile never left her face.
The men who happened to look back, sympathetically winced at her illustration.
Lukrut did not assert that he was ‘into that’ afterward.
“Let’s stop here.” Nfirea suggested when they passed by a slow moving river. The gentle waters made no noise, it only drifted on seemingly without end. The constant low rumble of the cart, and the noise of horses stopped a few moments later when they pulled off the dirt road and moved over soft grass, ending their detour at the riverbank.
By the water, Ainz watched a dead leaf drifting slowly along. He was instantly curious and glanced around. The leaf was clearly dead, browned, and what one would expect in fall, but here it was high summer.
Nfiera looked up from where he was watering the horses and saw the way Ainz’s gaze followed it. “Is there something wrong, Mr. Momon?”
Ainz shook his head, “Oh, no, I was just noticing that the leaf was dead, but everything else seems to be alive…”
“Oh, have you never been by the Long River before?” Nfirea said while patting the white neck of the horse as it drank.
“No… no I haven’t. Why?” Ainz cocked his head at the question.
“Well, that river, or so they say, crosses the whole continent, I’ve seen those leaves before, they actually have a little magic in them, nobody really knows where they come from or why they have magic. But wherever it is, it must be autumn now, and it floated all the way here. When I was little, I wanted to go to the end of the river and find out where it came from, but… there’s no way of doing that. Not with the Beastmen Kingdoms and Empires, and everything in the way.”
Ainz didn’t say anything to that, and Nfirea took it as criticism, returning his attention to the horse and away from the towering adventurer. “It must sound silly to you, huh?”
“No, no. Actually, it doesn’t.” Ainz answered, “A long time ago, where I’m from, there’s a story about people who lived in a world of poison, and all they wanted to do was see places that weren’t poisonous. So they created imaginary worlds, just for the sake of exploring them and seeing new things. I imagine anyone who is confined to very little, would want to see a lot. Isn’t that why most people become adventurers?” Ainz watched the leaf until it passed out of sight, barely noticing the way Lupusregina watched him in turn.
“I never figured you for a poet, Mr. Momon.” Ninya bowed his head to Ainz, and said, “That isn’t why I became an adventurer, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy my friends, and seeing as much as I get to. I’m very lucky, and thanks to my talent, I get to be someone who experiences the world. Even though it’s dangerous, as long as I’m with my friends, it’s worth it. Due to both my talent, and them, I won’t die as a nameless peasant never going farther than my family’s fields.”
Ninya blushed and waved his hands out wildly when the stares of the rest of his team were focused in his direction. “Not that I’m a softie or anything!”
Most of his team laughed, but Lukrut came over and put an arm around his comrade’s neck and rubbed a knuckle into the top of Ninya’s head. “I knew you liked us a lot, but now you go and say it!”
“Gaaah!” Ninya said and made a half hearted struggle until Lukrut let go with a chuckle.
They were traveling and chatting again in no time, and while they did so, Ainz could almost see his friends in their places, when they were few, the guild was new, and before they even had Nazarick yet. ‘My friends, are you out here… somewhere?’ The sobering thought lingered until he felt the tension in those around him.
Then the mocking voice of the lecher in the group was gone, Lukrut’s absurd expression of constant humor became serious, wolfish, predatory when he looked around the wagon. “They’re coming.” He said with a steady voice.
“From where?” Peter asked, keeping his eyes ahead to ensure their hunters didn’t realize they had been spotted.
“Over the hill, to our right, there must be around thirty of them at least.” Lukrut suggested.
Ainz glanced over to Lupusregina, she tapped her nose, pointed one finger ‘up’ and then flashed ten fingers.
‘Forty.’ Ainz realized, ‘Lukrut isn’t a clown after all.’
Peter took command immediately, “Mr. Bareare, the best thing you can do is hunker down in the wagon. Lukrut, stay at range and pull the turtle from its shell, Ninya provide support from back here and Dyne, stay close and use your magic to slow down anyone who gets past us. Brita and I will stay up front and use my ‘Fortress’ skill to keep them back while they’re whittled down.”
“Got it.” They said together while Nfirea stopped the wagon.
“What’s the best way to use you two?” Peter asked, glancing at Ainz and Lupusregina.
“Just stay back, we’ll handle it.” Ainz replied, and Lupusregina gave a big toothy smile and flashed a V sign with her index and middle fingers.
“Easy, don’t worry about it, it’s Momon and Lupu to the rescue, even for perverts and frauds.” She snipped her two fingers together like a pair of scissors, drawing a glance, and a nervous chuckle from Luckrut when he took out his bow and drew his first arrow.
“Alright… but don’t worry, we won’t leave this all just to you, you’ve got all the support we can provide.” Peter promised while Lukrut let the first arrow fly.
It went about halfway to the goblins and ogres that emerged from the tree line and embedded itself into the grass. It stopped the creatures long enough to make them laugh, giving Ainz a good look at them.
The ogres were clearly taller than he was, while the goblins were about the size of human children. The ogres were a dusty brown, while the goblins a forest green. The ogres carried large broken tree limbs as clubs, while the goblins were armed with swords, knives, and axes. The ogres wore nothing but loin cloths, while the goblins wore a motley array of different armor pieces gathered from wherever they could get them.
The enemy charged over the field, their many steps rumbling like distant thunder, and Lukrut fired his second arrow, it flew like the bird the fletching was taken from, and pierced a goblin through the eye, toppling it over dead in an instant.
[Twine Plant] Dyne said, and green vines grew up just where an ogre stepped and began to wrap its way around the leg and over the body, holding it fast while another arrow flew through the air to strike another target.
‘What are they doing…’ Peter wondered just before he severed the head of a small goblin that came on with more speed than skill. He couldn’t resume his thought as another came on swinging a sword. Peter caught the blow on his shield and then countered with a thrust that buried the sword in the goblin’s chest.
Brita had only a half chuckle confined to her own head when she saw the brief disbelief at the casual approach Momon and his companion had. ‘I told you, but you wouldn’t believe me. Well, I guess ‘seeing it’ will make it easier.’ The iron ranked adventurer thought when she disemboweled a goblin that attacked Peter from behind.
The goblin was slumping to the ground when Momon drew out his blades, and an ogre came on, the massive club went up, and to Peter’s dismay, so did Momon. The dark warrior leapt up from the ground, much higher than the ogre, then twisting on his way down, by the momentum of his blade and the force of his own arm, cut the ogre vertically down the middle.
“By the four…” Dyne muttered when, faster than he could see it, Momon advanced against another ogre and cut it in half across the waist, then another at an angle. Ogres with the strength of five normal people, torn in half like paper in the hands of a child.
Blood sprayed into the air, and then they watched as Lupu went to work, she took the mace from her side, and for an instant, Lukrut felt the urge to call out to a beautiful woman in distress.
Then the mace swung, and the red haired cleric broke the ogre’s club. The crack of wood was like the crack of bone. And if anyone needed a comparison, she gave them one when she spun past the stump of a club, brought the mace up again, and broke the ogre’s arm. It howled with pain with the sickening crunch as the bone of its arm pierced its flesh from the inside out from the force of her blow.
Her sweet smile never left her face when she hit it again, this time in the ribs on the other side of its body and caved them in completely. It fell with a groan, not a scream, as its own ribs pierced its lungs, and robbed the ogre of life.
‘Orichalcum? Or adamantite?’ Ninya wondered when he released his magic arrow and struck the twine plant bound ogre in the face.
Thanks to Momon and Lupu, the battle was nothing but a massacre, the mace smashed heads into pulp, and the swords wrought a harvest that turned one goblin into two with every swing. The path of their movement could be followed by the trail of bodies and associated parts left in their wake.
Not a single goblin or ogre fled the now red stained field of grass alive.