Suzuki Satoru, his skeletal jaw hanging slack, stared at the glowing screens hovering before his empty eye sockets. His mind, usually so adept at strategic planning and careful analysis, was a chaotic storm of fear and confusion. He'd seen them, those two figures, moving with a speed that defied comprehension, wielding power that made his own formidable magic feel like a child's plaything. And now, these PVP initiation screens.
K!!!!!
Classes: Lv(????) (Larval Divinity. Strong.)
Lv. (????) (Sword God Emperor)
Lv. (????) (World Conqueror)
Lv. (????) (World Savior/Tyrant)
A!!!!
Classes: Lv. (????) (Larval Divinity. Strong)
Lv. (????) (Sword God Empress)
Lv. (????) (World Conqueror)
Lv. (????) (World Puppeteer: Administration)
Four question marks. Four. He'd only ever seen three before, when facing players who were level 100 while he was below level 90. These… these beings were beyond level 100. Far beyond. And their classes- 'Sword God Emperor'? 'World Puppeteer'? Those weren't classes from Yggdrasil. They were something else entirely. Something that made his non-existent blood run cold. Every stat on their pages screamed in bold text, Error: Exceeds Limit.
He felt a cold sweat – or what he imagined cold sweat would feel like upon his new skeletal body– trickling down his nonexistent back. His carefully cultivated persona, the mask of the all-powerful Ainz Ooal Gown, shattered, revealing the terrified salaryman beneath as his emotion suppression perk activated repeatedly.
While seemingly doing nothing to quell his terror.
"We need to find more information about these powerful people…" he mumbled, his Deep RP voice now a dry rasp that echoed through the silent chamber. His mind, overwhelmed by the impossibility he had observed, cycled through a thousand possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last. Were they players who hacked the server? actual Gods? Something else entirely?
He didn't hear Albedo, his loyal and terrifyingly devoted guardian overseer, who had just finished gulping down a full potion to regenerate her severed arm, speaking. His focus was too narrow, his panic too consuming to register anything but the looming threat those screens represented.
"Right away, my lord!" Albedo chirped, her voice filled with a fervent devotion that Ainz, in his current state of mental paralysis, simply didn't register. "I will contact Demiurge, and we will handle this at once!"
But even as his most trusted subordinates sprang into extremely unadvisable and horribly self-sabotaging action, Ainz couldn't shake the feeling that they were already pawns in a game they didn't understand, a game with stakes far higher than they could possibly imagine.
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The last of the blue-clad soldiers collapsed, their bodies riddled with those signature necrotic-tinged wounds. "Well, that was anticlimactic," Asuna sighed, sheathing her rapier with a flourish. "I barely broke a sweat."
"They were hardly a challenge, even with our limitations," I agreed, wiping a speck of blood – or maybe it was rust? – from my sword. I couldn't help myself; I had to peek. Those wounds, the strange decay, the way those soldiers moved- it just screamed unnatural. So, I'd dipped into my Intelligence domain, just a little, enough to get a glimpse into their minds. And what I found was intriguing, to say the least. These weren't just bandits; they were soldiers, trained and indoctrinated. Their thoughts were a bizarre mix of religious fervor and a kind of misplaced arrogance that absolutely declared in their heads that they were some kind of holy arbiters of- something-. They actually believed they were part of some grand, divine plan. It was almost as if they were mimicking the tactics of those idiots from the "Jerk Naive" faction—that was a much more fitting title for those wannabe empire pretenders. Emperor Jircniv, what a joke. Couldn't even conquer a salad bar, let alone a continent.
"Honored heroes!" a raspy voice interrupted my musings. The village headman, his face etched with a mixture of fear and desperation, was shuffling towards us, his hands clasped together in a pleading gesture. "Please! We beg for your aid!"
"Yeah, yeah, what's the problem, old-timer?" Asuna asked, her voice impatient, her eyes already scanning the perimeter, searching for any remaining threats.
"Bandits," the headman wheezed, his voice trembling. "They attack our villages, slaughter our people, steal our food! We are helpless against them. Please, mighty heroes, protect us! We offer you anything! My home, my food, my—" His gaze shifted towards a group of young women huddled behind him, their faces pale with terror. "My daughters! They are yours to command!"
Asuna's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing within their depths. "Let me make something perfectly clear, you lecherous old goat," she growled, her voice low and menacing as she prowled forward menacingly. "My husband is not a cheating manwhore. And if you ever imply anything even remotely similar again, I will personally introduce your intestines to the concept of outsourcing. Do you hear me? I will turn your intestines into a goddamn, badly made scarf!"
The headman, his face paling, stumbled backward, his voice a panicked squeak. "No! No! I meant no disrespect! Please, forgive my misunderstanding!"
I sighed, my amusement fading. "Honestly, Asuna, this entire village reeks of desperation and bad decisions. Let's just move on. I'm starting to get a headache."
We turned to leave, the headman's frantic pleas for mercy echoing behind us. As we reached the edge of the village, a new figure emerged from the forest. A tall, muscular man, clad in gleaming plate armor, his face stern and weathered. He was flanked by a squad of soldiers, their weapons at the ready. This must be the Warrior Captain that dumb, panicking old dude mentioned.
The man's gaze, sharp and calculating, swept over us, lingering on our unconventional armor with a barely perceptible frown. His stance was rigid, his hands hovering near the hilt of his sword. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice a deep, resonant baritone that commanded attention. "And what business do you have here?"
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I could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he assessed us. His narrowed eyes, the stilted formality of his question, the way his hand twitched towards his sword… it was all so obvious. Suspicious, are we, Warrior Captain? I thought, a sardonic amusement bubbling within me. Let the games begin.
Before I could respond, one of the villagers, a young woman with tears streaming down her face, rushed towards the Warrior Captain. "They are heroes, sir!" she cried, her voice choked with emotion. "They saved us from the bandits! They are powerful beyond belief!"
The Warrior Captain's gaze softened slightly, but the suspicion remained in his eyes. He turned back to us, his stance relaxing a fraction. "Is this true?" he asked, his voice still laced with caution.
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"You're absolutely correct, Mr. Kingdom's Big Stick!" the stranger declared, his tone laced with a sardonic amusement that grated on Gazef's nerves. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a place that is decidedly not here to be at, at this exact time, and I am already significantly behind schedule. Toodles! Good luck with those Slane Theocracy fuck-ups!"
And with that, the man, clad in strange, foreign gray and red armor, turned to leave, his companion – a woman with equally unusual attire, clad in armor that was colored gold, but due to its magical feel, was certainly not gold.
A disturbingly sharp glint in her eyes was visible before she followed close behind.
Gazef grimaced. He hadn't expected help, not after the carnage he'd witnessed, but their casual disregard for the gravity of the situation was unsettling.
The villagers, however, seemed to hold these strangers in high regard. Their tales of impossible feats of strength, of swords that moved faster than the eye could see, of enemies vanquished with a mere thought and a swing of a blade so fast it defied the eyes.
It was all so fantastical, so utterly unbelievable. Yet, the evidence lay scattered around them: the bodies of the slain 'bandits,' bearing wounds that defied conventional weaponry, the absence of any casualties among the villagers, the very fact that these two strangers stood before him, unharmed, amidst the carnage.
He had to admit, their power was undeniable. And their knowledge of the Slane Theocracy's involvement was intriguing.
Knowing the king, a man easily swayed by tales of heroism and of power, his heart in the right place but mistakes that he makes- even if it isn't his place to comment…
Gazef was certain that any reward, no matter how extravagant, would be offered in exchange for their allegiance. A noble title, land, perhaps even a position within the royal court…
"I am certain that if you assist us," Gazef said, his voice firm and authoritative, "the king will reward you handsomely. Given this new information about the Slane Theocracy's involvement, that reward could include a noble title, land, perhaps even…" He trailed off, unwilling to make promises he couldn't guarantee.
For a fleeting moment, Gazef thought he saw a look of predatory cunning flash across the stranger's face, a calculating glint in his eyes. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by an expression of thoughtful contemplation. He shook his head, attributing the fleeting vision to his own fatigue. He'd been riding for days, his mind and body weary from the relentless pursuit of these elusive bandits. He needed rest. He needed…
"Alright," the stranger said, his voice interrupting Gazef's thoughts. "Fine. We'll help. But we expect to be compensated accordingly." He gestured towards the woman beside him. "This is Asuna, my wife. They call her the Lightning Flash, renowned for her sword skills. And I am Kirito, the Black Swordsman. I'm proficient with a single sword, but… terrifying with a blade in each hand."
He paused, his gaze meeting Gazef's directly, a spark of something dangerous flickering in his eyes. "We were exploring some ancient ruins," he continued, his voice taking on a harder edge, "and even with a map, nothing seems… familiar. So, we'll be in your care, Warrior Captain Gazef Stronoff."
Gazef nodded curtly, his suspicions momentarily quieted by the urgency of the situation. He had a duty to protect his kingdom, a responsibility to his king and his people. And if these strangers, these powerful, enigmatic figures from… wherever they came from… could help him achieve that goal, then he would welcome their assistance, even if it meant ignoring the nagging voice of caution in the back of his mind.
He had a feeling he was about to regret this.
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As Gazef turned to address his men, I discreetly opened a mental message with Asuna.
Kirito: What a sucker. Also, do you think it was overkill to use our divinities to revive the dead villagers and make them forget they ever died?
Asuna's response was almost instantaneous:
Asuna: Nope. And nice job with the scheming, couldn't have done it better myself. You really had that "I'm going to ruin your entire world" vibe going on just long enough that he felt suspicious but just short enough that he thought it was his imagination.
Kirito: Thank you, my beautifully stunning wife. But I'm sure you could have managed amazingly. He was so desperate that he probably would have offered nobility for anything that even sounded like a plan if he'd heard "Slane Theocracy" from any other skilled warrior's lips. And you, my sexy warrior goddess, fit that bill way better than I do.
Asuna didn't reply right away. I could feel her flustered state radiating through our mental link. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her response arrived.
Asuna: How the heck do you do that? You're too goddamn sweet to me that I still blush at your nonsense!
I turned to her, a smirk playing on my lips, and openly admired the faint blush that colored her cheeks. "Indeed, beautiful," I murmured, my voice low enough for only her to hear.
"STOOOOOP!" she hissed, swatting at my arm.
I chuckled, enjoying her flustered reaction. It was moments like these, those fleeting glimpses of vulnerability beneath her tough exterior, that reminded me why I loved this woman. Even with our combined power, our ever-expanding empire, our casual disregard for the laws of physics… she was still the girl who had captured my heart in that death trap of a game.