Nfirea’s wish to stay one day in the village to study the fur of the Wise King of the Forest, became two days when he wished to study the blood, and then became three days when he wished to study the eyes. So the days blurred as he worked on potion after potion. A house emptied by the murder of its inhabitants during the attack became his new workshop.

Ainz didn’t mind, it was pleasantly relaxing in the village, the people were friendly and open toward him, far more pleasant than the people of his own world most of the time. Brita and the Swords of Darkness took up assisting with the training of the villagers just to pass the time, as well as gathering plants from the now much safer area of the forest for Nfirea to test out with his new subject. Meanwhile ‘Lupu’ under his direction, began to charm those around her with her outwardly smiling and cheerful demeanor.

However, all of that was an aside to Ainz, who sat at the table with the village chief and his wife in their home. “...not that we’re not impressed with the accomplishment, Sir Momon. But killing the Wise King also removes a barrier to other monsters that may attack the village. He kept to himself, and as long as we didn’t venture into his territory he wouldn’t come to us. Now with him gone… who knows what monsters may appear?”

“I see… I see. I owe you an apology then, I acted rashly without thinking of what this would mean for you.” Ainz answered, “I must take responsibility for this.”

‘Damn, I took the time to save them, and started establishing this as a base, only to remove something defending the place, without thinking.’ Ainz cursed, ‘I need to solve this one or word will spread that Momon is a glory seeker who doesn’t care who he puts at risk, that will be a problem. On the plus side, the experience I gained from killing that thing was a lot better than the ogres, it means I really can grind out a great deal if I just find strong enough things to fight.’ It was a mixed blessing of a thought process for Ainz, who waited while the wrinkled faces of husband and wife looked at one another with uncertainty.

“Are you… offering to stay and protect us, Sir Momon? We… we don’t have much. And what we have, we’ve been saving to give as a gift to Lord Ainz as a show of gratitude when he returns. We’re a poor place, we can feed you of course but… but not much more. We can’t possibly pay you to stay here just waiting for danger.”

“What if I were to make this place my base of operations?” Momon said to them with a sudden flash of inspiration.

The pair shot their eyes to him, “I- Sir Momon I don’t understand?” The old mayor stammered out.

“Most adventurers stay at the inn to look for partners. I don’t need another partner. Your village has empty homes. It also has plenty of space. Give me one of the homes, and when I’m not adventuring, I will reside here. In addition I’ll check the forest and deal with any monsters that appear there. That should be good enough, right?”

“But… Sir Momon, there were two other monsters of great power in the forest, and when they learn the Wise King has died, they’ll surely come to investigate.” The old mayor shuddered. “Would you really fight them both?”

“Of course. They wouldn't pose a threat if they considered the Wise King to be their rival.” Ainz replied, ‘So, others, I’ll have to check them out as well, who knows what might be done with them? And Nfirea is very excited about what he’s found he can do with the Wise King’s body parts. I wonder if we can harvest it again and again through resurrection? But that might be a bit cruel, it was an intelligent beast. But if we make it quick, is there really a problem?’

“If… if you say so, of course we must accept. But you must at least also let us provide you with food, and accept at least some coin from us for your efforts when you stay with us. Once we’ve paid Master Gown back at least.” The old woman insisted and stretched out her aged hand to cover the mailed one Ainz had allowed to rest on the table.

‘She can’t be much past her thirties, but looks much older, this place is hard on the body, clearly.’ Ainz concluded, but that sympathy was buried under a wave of satisfaction as he ‘completely’ acquired a village as his home base and eliminated the concern about where to stay, unlike his undead body, this one needed rest.

‘Plus, I can keep an eye on Nfirea. An added bonus.’ Ainz considered, and then replied, “Yes, that would be acceptable.”

The hand covering his, slowly enfolded its fingers into his palm and raised his hand up into a handshake. Her husband did the same and the bargain was struck.

Then just like that, Ainz had a second home, he only needed to pick which one.

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“I’m bored Khajiii, soooo bored!” Clementine groused for what had to be the hundredth time, she dragged her fingers down her cheeks, “I killed two information brokers and nobody knows where that brat went!”

“Maybe if you didn’t kill them, you might have better luck.” Khajiit said while rubbing his chin and tapping his staff on the stone. “The rest are bound to go into hiding if a few of them disappear. Rats always scatter when one of them is killed.

A twisted smile came over Clementine’s face. “I know, I know, but I like killing… no, I’m in love with killing!” She clutched her stiletto in her left hand a moment later and licked a bit of dried blood from the tip. “I need it! I can’t feel any kind of pleasure without it, so of course I killed them…” Her wild wide eyes narrowed and she winked her left eye when she said, “Sorry if it’s so annoying, Khajii, but you knew what you were getting into from the beginning.”

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“The price I pay, eh. Everything has a price. Well, if the boy hasn’t come back and you don’t know where he is, ask someone certain to know.” Khajiit suggested, and for a moment Clementine looked at him in confusion.

“His grandmother, she will know if nobody else does.” Khajiit pointed out, “It is a minor risk, and she is unimportant in the grand scheme of things, she’s a third tier magic caster, but if you catch her off her guard, we might finally make some progress. I didn’t want to do that, but I can’t wait forever either.”

“You’re the best, Khajii!” Clementine said and took off at a dead run out of their place in the underground crypt.

“What a troublesome personality.” Khajiit muttered and waved his gnarled wooden staff out toward the disciples waiting off to one side. They took his meaning, and brought in the next corpse, this one was reduced almost to bones and it took all four disciples just to keep it in one piece when they carried it to the small altar at which Khajiit worked.

Clementine made it back to E-Rantel with ease, her tremendous acrobatic skill made it easy to avoid the crude, even pathetic guards meant to protect the city from threats. She was completely unseen and unheard, shadow to shadow, alley to alley, under the cover of a spring night she barely made a splash on the little puddles she encountered along the way.

Then she made it, the shop was famous to say the least, and to some degree that fame was its own form of security. Nobody wanted to mess with third tier magic casters. Even Khajiit’s own Zuranon found that the best policy was to avoid a needless fight.

But the ex-Black Scripture Clementine was not nobody. ‘A quick stabby stab and they die like anyone else.’ She laughed silently behind her twisted smile beneath the window of the home. It was like any other residence of a prosperous merchant. The shop below, the living area above, the walls made of crude plaster coated wood and had a pair of windows on the upper floor for light.

She looked up, the wooden shutters on the outside were closed, but that was no real obstacle for her even without martial arts. She crouched low, took out a stiletto, then after one deep breath, she jumped. Her powerful legs carried her up to the second floor and her hands caught the frame. Not a sound went out from the point of contact, but ever the professional, Clementine stopped for an instant to listen. She then slid her stiletto in the vertical space between the shutters and raised it up till she felt the touch of the latch. One sharp motion, and the latch opened.

She sheathed the weapon and opened the right shutter, then inched along the window and opened the left, behind the shutter there was a glass window. It was a silent testament to the prosperity of the merchant to be able to afford one of actual glass. Most were simply open holes with shutters to keep out cold. Again, it was no obstacle. Her stiletto jammed down at the tiny crack between the window and the sill, then she pried it up a tiny bit. She paused to listen again, only the sound of her own heart was there to reach her ears.

Her fingers pried the window open, and when it was done, she kicked her legs off the wall while holding on to the upper frame and swung herself in feet first, tucking her legs in to ensure she easily cleared the bottom of the window.

Clementine landed quiet as a cat on the floor, and crept toward a nearby room. The faint sound of an old woman snoring reached her ear, and that smile became even more twisted. She drew from her sheath a stiletto enchanted with mind control, and reached for the handle.

The door and its handle were obviously quite old, smooth cut and polished, but the handle was wrought iron and had bits of rust here and there where alchemical ingredients had touched and eroded it over years. There was no evidence of a lock, not that it would have done any good even if the old woman had one.

‘No matter how skilled the magic caster, if they’re asleep and have no skill in detecting the unknown, they might as well be a baby.’ Clementine mentally mocked the woman who slept in bed in front of her. She could see that the famous Lizzie Bareare was a small woman, barely up to Clementine’s chest if she’d been allowed to wake up. Even in the dark, the stiletto armed woman could tell that her target had short white hair, and a mass of wrinkled skin around a broad nose.

The old woman tossed and turned beneath an expensive blanket, the room was the definition of simple, a desk, an end table with a candle next to the plain bed, but it was obvious she’d spent serious money on the comfort of the place she slept. The thick mattress might even have been enchanted, but the blanket itself was at least very thick and made of very soft bear fur. Hatred welled up in Clementine, old hate for the comforts of others, it made it even easier and more pleasurable when she stood at the old woman’s side.

Clementine raised the stiletto up over one hand… then brought it down when the aged grandmother rolled toward the predator again. Lizzie’s blue eyes flew open when pain ripped through her body from the point in her shoulder where the stiletto pierced, it was only a mere moment though. One moment of pain, confusion, and understanding, and then Lizzie Bareare’s mind, belonged to Clementine.

“You seem to be injured, are you alright?” Clementine asked and put a hand on a spot of blood.

The bright eyes that once shone with intelligence, then fear, Clementine now looked down into the hollow, empty face which then broke out into a smile of welcome like Lizzie was seeing an old friend. “It hurts a little, but I feel good, how are you, my friend?”

“Wonderful, wonderful.” Clementine answered and clapped her hands together, the stiletto stuck the woman to the bed, and so the old woman didn’t rise, she only lay at ease as if weary. “I was just looking for your grandson, but it seems he’s nowhere to be found, I was hoping he would play with me and Khajii, can you tell me where he is or when he’ll be back, pretty please, for sweet little old me?” She pouted down at the old woman, and was met with an aged cackle.

Lizzie, as it turned out, was the talkative sort when mind controlled, as some tended to be, it was rare, but when it happened, Clementine noticed it was always with magic casters. So it was no real surprise when Lizzie Bareare answered at length in a sing-song kind of voice. “Oh, my grandson loves to play with his friends, of course I’ll help you, he’s such a good boy, best boy, even. He went out to gather herbs with a small team of adventurers, they took the long way around and were going to stop in Carne Village to do some trading.” The old woman’s smile became quite knowing, “He’s sweet on a girl there, I’ll just bet you he’s sticking around there to flirt with her. He does that sometimes.”

“Thank you so much, you’re such a good friend to me, how about I fix that injury for you in gratitude?” Clementine asked, touching the tips of her fingers together and tapping them impatiently.

“Would you?” Lizzie asked, “You’re the best!” She added with joy on her empty face.

“I am the best.” Clementine said with back straight as she stared down at the prosperous woman, eyes full of loathing, the powerful killer yanked the stiletto out of the shoulder, and began to poke more holes in the helpless old woman.

Mind controlled as she was, Lizzie couldn’t scream or protect herself, but she felt every ounce of pain as Clementine tore her apart, blood spattered and spurted as old veins opened, the bed soaked through with so much blood that when Lizzie at long last expired, there wasn’t total silence. The stillness was shattered by the dripping red fluid, as it soaked through to the bottom, the blood of the elderly pharmacist dripped to the wooden floor.

When the old woman drew her last breath, all Clementine felt, after one last burst of ecstasy, was the warm afterglow as if she’d finished an evening with an incredible lover. She licked the blades clean of blood, sheathed them, then looked around again. An adventurer’s plate hung on the wall. ‘Hers? Her son’s?’ Clementine wondered, but couldn’t ask the tortured, mutilated corpse.

She shrugged, as trophies went, this was her favorite, and the dead had obviously treasured it enough to display it in private. She snatched it up with a deft yank that snapped the little leather strap, and walked down the stairs, then right out the front door as if she were any other customer. ‘I wonder how Khajii feels about road trips?’ Clementine pondered as she vanished into the night.