When Ainz awoke it was to dreams of ecstasy, delights that sought to keep him in bed. A supreme desire clung to him the way a fog might engulf a landscape. ‘Albedo.’ He felt a rising hunger to embrace her, like the dream carried over into the waking moments.
It was accompanied by an overwhelming guilt. ‘I damaged her. I can’t take advantage of that.’ He told himself, loathing and revulsion for his own urgent impulse to take the succubus was briefly all-consuming. It drove him to action, throwing on his clothing and dressed as ‘Momon’ again, he sent a message to Pandora’s Actor. ‘Disguise yourself as me, and visit the capital of Re-Estize. Wear an enchanted mask, and if asked to remove it, show a… suitable face.’
‘My Lord!’ Pandora’s Actor acknowledged the command at once.
‘Commit to nothing, offend no one. Learn everything. This is strictly an intelligence gathering operation for now… oh, and above all, ensure that the name Ainz Ooal Gown is elevated in the eyes of those who learn it!’ Ainz added, keeping his instructions as generalized as possible.
‘I will make you proud, father!’ Pandora’s Actor declared, in his mind’s eyes, Ainz could practically see the dramatic gesture of the doppleganger.
Ainz killed the connection, intuitively he knew, ‘I slept later than I intended, I’d better be careful about that and not venture here as often, they’ll get suspicious if their ‘undead master’ spends long amounts of time here.’
He stepped through the gate that appeared in front of him, and vanished, appearing just outside of Carne, beyond the hill where he wouldn’t be seen, and descended toward the village.
The fields were now in prime condition thanks to Mare’s work, and more than that, the wooden walled core was now extended by a complex web of long stone walls that went out to the fields and surrounded even those. ‘Enri’s idea.’ He guessed, the sheer stone walls were fifteen feet tall and even at a glance, wide enough for two or three men to stand abreast. The walls narrowed to a cart wide path that led back to the main gate of the village, providing a shockingly elaborate defense network for a little nothing of a village. ‘There’s no way they can man those walls, even I know that much.’ Ainz thought as he walked toward the village. ‘But it would deter the average bandit and keep farmers safe from average low level trash monsters, and if the place grows, perhaps it can be manned…’ As he drew closer, the vision of Carne growing far beyond its village origins began to loom large in his mind. Sitting at the crossroads between the Slane Theocracy, E-Rantel, and the Baharuth Empire, even being within relative reach of Nazarick and from there, the mountain ranges to the north. Carne had only the wild untamed forest and the constant threat of war which made the place undesirable.
‘But I’m taming the woods, and if I can bring peace… no, ‘when’ I bring peace.’ The idea of using Carne as a capital for himself was appearing better and better. His inner salaryman recognized the value of the place as a potential trade hub, especially if it drew more powerful and important people to the place.
Enri’s significance began to jump several levels in his mind, not least because of her own foresight evidenced by walls and fields prepared in advance of having the people needed to farm them.
The thinking was interrupted by shouting and cheers when his name went up from those manning the wooden walls and towers and was then carried within. Their champion, their ‘local hero’. The one who bested two skeletal dragons before their eyes, had come back.
It was immediately clear that there were ‘two’ different groups of villagers there, those who swarmed him were local to the area and had seen his actions, others however, hung back and watched with impressed but otherwise indifferent eyes. He read their thoughts easily enough, ‘Oh, another adventurer, that’s nice but… what’s the big deal?’
Enri awoke in Nfirea’s arms to the sound of the adventurer’s name being heralded all over the village. ‘Just yesterday I was basically ready to throw myself at his feet… oh gods above, Lupu will never let me live that one down. I hope I can speak to him without blushing.’ She thought as she got up and dressed. Nfirea was still sound asleep.
That was a point of pride that left a smirk on her face. ‘He’s very, very thoroughly worn out now.’ She almost laughed about it before she left the room and then exited the little house.
Momon was disengaging himself from several peasants eager for the privilege of boasting about touching the armor of the adamantite adventurer, and Enri saw Lupu a few feet away from her door.
She caught the bright yellow eyes of the radiant redhead, and the cleric’s perfect lips mouthed the words, ‘Pervert girl’.
Enri could only blush, and oddly enough she felt herself set at ease by the taunt, watching Lupu approach Momon and chatting idly about the activity of the village since her arrival. Enri couldn’t hear what was being said, but she saw Lupu pointing at her, and then doubled over laughing.
The blush on Enri’s face only grew when she thought she saw the adventurer looking her up and down as a man instinctively looked a woman over. Enri could think of nothing to do, nothing to say, ‘What if he took the idea seriously, we’re desperate, I could hardly turn him down. I’m not as pretty as Lupu, and I guess he’s sleeping with her, I mean, who wouldn’t, but still, there’s a lot to be said for the new and…’
She barely saw the world around her any longer as she tried to convince herself of… what, she didn’t even know, She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t even notice that the black armored hero was in front of her until she heard him say her name as if he’d said it several times already.
“Enri?”
She gave her head a vigorous shake and looked up at him, his helmet was off to reveal the dark haired and sharp featured face of the hero.
“Oh, ah, yes, I’m sorry, Sir Momon, I was… distracted, by something.” Enri stammered out the excuse.
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“It’s fine.” Momon said to her in the rich voice of a man born to rule, “Lupu tells me of your request, and I accept, though I had no idea you were like that. Still Lupu is an adult woman and I wouldn’t dream of coming between you two. Though you should talk to Nfirea first-”
He cut off his words when Enri whirled on Lupu who stood beside him with a cheshire smile. “Damn it, Lupu! What did you tell him?!”
“Was there some misunderstanding?” Enri heard Momon ask her and she turned to look up into his deep set eyes.
“Ah, yes, I’m afraid so. That isn’t how things are, and ah, well, yes thank you… My Lord. When the village is yours, we’ll be good servants, and work hard to enrich you.” Her eyes blurred with the memory of terror when knights had come and killed her parents and nearly killed the little sister who still barely managed to sleep alone most evenings. “Just please… please protect us all.”
“No force coming to threaten you, will ever enter this village unless it is bound by rope or chains.” Momon’s noble voice carried far beyond her, and where one ear heard it, one pair of lips repeated it, so that those who hadn’t heard it, would know that safety had been secured.
Ainz turned his eyes down to the cleric who still wore her bemused expression, “Lupu, we’re going, it’s a long way to the capital.”
“Of course, Momon.” She said with a bounce in her voice, “See you soon, Enri, do have fun.” Lupu said and gave a little wiggle of her fingers in place of a wave.
Enri watched the pair withdraw and began to wonder about the meaning of those words, ‘I have a sudden sense that I should probably check the ground outside my bedroom window…’ She thought to herself, and a wicked grin came over her face as she realized what she was almost certain to find. ‘I’m sure I gave her one hell of a show, I wonder if I should tell Nfirea… or would that give him performance anxiety… or would that be ‘enhancement’...’ She wondered and licked her lips, feeling the heat rising in her body, he was asleep not far away, and there was one way she knew to wake him up that would ‘definitely’ prove enhancing. ‘So I’m a pervert, so what? I’m a ‘fun’ pervert!’ Enri grinned internally and sashayed toward the lover she wanted to wake up.
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Tuare whimpered, her throat was torn and she couldn’t scream anymore. That was bad, it meant getting hit again, her head snapped to one side and hung listless and unmoving. She couldn’t see well. ‘This is bad, this is very bad.’ She saw double, two of her abuser instead of one. His fat body was heavy. ‘I won’t see soon, my eye will swell shut.’ That was a relief at least, to not see was to have one less sense to suffer through.
The great weight of the obese mustached customer lifted and she saw the blurry vision of him standing up off the bed on which she lay. The sound of his bare feet on the stone and then felt his heavy, hot breath from his panting over her. Sweat slick hands were on her body, she felt herself being turned over, and then turned around so that her lower body was over the bed. Tuare whimpered again and tried to relax so that the inevitable wouldn’t hurt as bad as the first time. Fat fumbling fingers were pulling her legs open. She hoped it would finish soon.
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Pandora’s Actor rode in luxury through the capital of Re-Estize, the black carriage of Nazarick was polished to a mirror shine, it clattered and bumped over the crude cobblestone that served as roads, leaving a ‘shaky view’ for the treasury guardian.
He didn’t mind that, not much at least. But sitting erect on the red cushioned seating of the outrageously expensive onyx carriage, looking out the window as he was, he definitely did not care for the view. Shabby, rundown homes. Wooden construction barely fit to be called a shelter by a wild beast, the smell of raw sewage from trenches that were infrequently drained and frequently jammed, the city was coated in a stench of despair.
‘Not a magical item to touch.’ Pandora’s Actor suppressed his distaste when he made his way through the winding streets, and little by little things started to improve. Houses became newer, solid wood, taverns that had patrons going in and out, were better lit. The patrons entering and leaving no longer darted their eyes around, on guard against getting ambushed after a few drinks. Then things grew even better, full shops with upper and lower floors came into view, the lower floors of red brick or gray stone.
Shopkeepers stood in doorways and street vendors became fewer in number, guards in chainmail became more common, though in pairs only.
Deeper into the city, the miasma lifted further, stone replaced brick and wood for full structures, groups of guards moved in tight formation, carriages and horses were bountiful. The rattle and clip clop sound of hooves over stone was accompanied by the chatter of well dressed people in custom tailored clothing going about their business.
Occasionally his sense for magical items began to go off and he detected enchantments here and there among passersby, nothing noteworthy caught his attention, but it was still a relief. ‘It isn’t the treasury, but… at least there are some for me to inspect.’ Pandora’s Actor made a mental note to peruse the more upper class shops in the noble district when time permitted.
His unfamiliar carriage, naturally eye catching to the familiar, was utterly jaw dropping in the eyes of those who had never seen it before. Playing his role to the hilt, Pandora’s Actor sat by the window clad in his mask, rich dark robes with red trim and bright silver shoulderpads, his golden staff in hand, and held himself aloof.
Reaching the palace at long last, his black carriage rolled to a stop before some stiff backed guards. Atop the carriage, a simple homunculus footman descended. Dressed in formal black and white attire and designed with human idealized aesthetics in mind, he was almost as eye catching as the carriage itself. Somehow appearing relaxed despite the straight formal posture, his white gloved hand closed delicately around the onyx handle and without so much as a ‘click’ opened it to allow his passenger to exit.
Pandora’s Actor immediately assessed the palace, made of many gray stones, it had numerous spires ascending to touch the blue sky above, each one rising to pin like points at a peak. The many towers were a testament to the wealth concentrated in that single building, and the power that went with it loomed like the shadow of a mountain over those who would dare enter. It was designed to make those who would come to meet with royalty, feel small and insignificant.
But to Pandora’s Actor, the true son of Ainz Ooal Gown, the resident of the unconquerable Nazarick with all its marvels and wonders, these arrogant humans looked like children at play with castles of sand. It was nothing.
So he ascended the stairs of gray stone with his pride intact, the tapping of his staff sent shockwaves through the guards, a pair of them in full plate armor holding long halberds across their bodies and wearing long swords at their sides, reached for the red painted double doors at the same moment.
They pulled, and the doors groaned their objection, but gave way before the honored guest of King Ramposa.
A long red carpet led straight to the heart of the palace, on the walls were many paintings depicting the likenesses of the Kings and Queens of the past, and their many children. More morbidly, the golden wooden frames each had a little bronze plate at the center base of each one that indicated when a member of the family was born, ruled (if they had) and died.
The male members of the royal family were all square jawed and most were sharp eyed. Most of the men were posed atop horses in heroic mode, but others were poised and regal, some holding scepters or formal clothing, or seated in a chair surrounded by their families. They were mostly warrior looking men in their prime or later years just before time took the worst of tolls on them.
What struck Pandora’s Actor most about it was the obviousness of their heritage, father to son, father to son, and continuing down the generations, all had strong features and a close family resemblance.
So it was, all the way to the last, where the painting of the current King Ramposa and his family showed something unique. The second son bore very little resemblance to his father. ‘Curious.’ Pandora’s Actor considered, then turned his attention to the herald at the large double doors. A young boy in his teens, dressed in white doublet with a black vest, and though he had a short dagger at his side, his chief instrument was a long brass horn held at the ready, resting on his right shoulder and held in his right hand.
“Name, my lord?” The herald asked in the cracked voice of youth.
“I am Ainz Ooal Gown, here at the invitation of King Ramposa.” Pandora’s Actor answered.
The herald turned to the door, opened it, and then in a smooth motion born of abundant practice he brought the horn up to be held in his left hand as well as his right, brought the thin funnel end to his lips and blew.
A loud trumpeting announcement called the court’s attention to the door, in a great mass, the dozens of courtiers ceased to converse and turned their eyes toward the noise.
“Announcing Ainz Ooal Gown! Guest of the King!” The herald proclaimed in a ringing voice.
Pandora’s Actor approached with a slow, stately step befitting that of a noble or a king of his own domain, each step of his foot drew him closer, each flutter of his outrageously expensive cloak drew fresh critique, the staff tapped over the stone and was the only sound until he stood within courtesy distance of the king.
Ramposa sat on his throne, back straight and with a steady, serious look befitting a true king. At his right hand stood Gazef Stronoff, clad in enchanted armor and bearing a great sword at his side. Gazef was what you would say a man purpose built to be a warrior, was supposed to look like.
Pandora’s Actor gave a slow and steady bow. “King Ramposa, as your herald stated, I am Ainz Ooal Gown, it is my honor to make your acquaintance.”