In an inconspicuous room, sat Ainz. The blood-red lights in his eye-sockets dimmed to the point of dissipating. He was quietly contemplating various facts in his mind. He had left the others in charge of the raid on Rabier territory and had returned to Nazarick. He wouldn't have participated in it anyways.
Looking back on the battle against Fitoria, it seemed very inconsistent. A level-75 beastman in the slave trader's collection was judged to be an equal opponent of a level-30 or 35 denizens of YGGDRASIL. Fitoria being able to fight against him along with two guardians should be virtually impossible according to the standards of conversion. However, she had been able to hold her own for quite a while. Even though she was level-100 and was the carriage hero, it was still absurd.
The conclusion he reached was that the answer lied in the last 10 levels. Fitoria was the first max level being he had encountered in this world. He himself had ignored it before, however, it had become exponentially difficult to reach level 90 from 89 in his hero stats. He could only know the answer upon leveling up himself.
To be honest, Ainz would be lying if he said he was using his shield to its fullest extent. There were quite a few things he could try to do, but he had not done so. Why? The reason was simple. The fear of the shield itself; or rather the one who gave him this power. It had the power to summon the entire Nazarick under the protection of World Items and latch onto him. If someone was maneuvering the scenes behind the curtains, the shield in itself could bring demise for Nazarick. That's why he had not gone to the eighth floor ever since he got the shield in order to not divulge any information about Nazarick's most secretive and deadly force.
The most likely suspect was the one mentioned by Fitoria herself or a being of equal capabilities.
'Medea Pideth Machina', the one responsible for causing the waves to descend upon the world. Her past was shrouded in mystery with the exception of her goal. She uses the waves to merge many worlds with the presence of the so-called cardinal weapons all in order to devour their energy all at once. The original eight worlds have been reduced to a measly two or four. Of course, the fates of the residents of those worlds weren't favorable. There was a lot more she had talked about in detail, including her known powers, appearance in the waves in the last generation hero, a few beings under her, and much more. It was detailed to the point that there seemed to no holes in the story. Also, it seemed that she was raised by the previous shield hero.
He had no way of confirming Fitoria's words. She might as well have been feeding false information on purpose to mislead him. Whatever it was, there was one thing in the light, a being capable of merging worlds and causing these destructive waves would be overwhelming, to say the least. The extent of her power was still unknown. If her power was comparable to that of final raid bosses like Asura who was Nazarick's former boss, there was a high chance of at the very least being able to repel her from Nazarick, albeit with little losses. However, in the unfortunate event that the power level was comparable to world enemy bosses or even quasi-world bosses, even the existence of Nazarick would be threatened. He would be more elated if this was the work of some item instead of this.
However, being a world-boss was highly unlikely considering the power of this world was not even one-tenth of a world in YGGDRASIL. The merging of worlds would have already been done if that was the case.
It could be said that this info about the enemy has confused him even more. The other guardians were already informed of this. Like this, Ainz spent quite a lot of time devising counter-measures against the unknown lurking in the dark.
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On the other hand, Demiurge had been wondering about the same issue for some time. A subordinate reported something unusual to him.
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"Upon Malty's resurrection, it was found out that a large part of her memories was muddled and missing. This wasn't because of mental trauma but damage from the inside. It is like half of herself imploded itself."
Demiurge looked up at the being for a couple of minutes before his lips drew a wide grin as he mumbled.
"Not half of herself... Perhaps a part of something else entirely! Hahaha! This is getting interesting."
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The Rabier territory
An area with its speciality as slaves.
A majority of the beastmen and demi-humans in Nazarick indirectly came from this place. There were no good memories made in this place. Abuse was common whereas good sleep and full meals were a luxury.
In this place was marching a group of former slaves who had suffered previously here. Fully armed, they headed towards the heart of the territory, the mansion of Idol Rabier. The nobleman crossed with endless corruption and greed.
The armed demi-humans were noticed by a few guards. They came forward to stop them in a hurry.
"Stop! Armed slaves are barred entry any further! Disarm yourselves and give us your weapons for safekeeping. Only them can you enter!"
The weapons from Nazarick were only of low quality but in the eyes of normal people from this world, they were exceptionally well-made.
There were about five guards. They looked at them with disdain in their eyes and haughtiness in their voice. They knew this was their territory and anyone would have to obey them, especially slaves.
Raphtalia looked up at the five up front. Her from before would have respectfully, or rather out of fear complied with them. Even now, her hands shook as she looked at their overbearing attitude. The others were not much better. A few glared at them with anger and indignation in their eyes wanting to retaliate.
However, doing so was only easier said than done. It wasn't that they hadn't made their resolve but that the fear deep-rooted within them had resurfaced.
Raphtalia turned around to see her comrades.
Friends. That was something she had forgotten about.
Freedom. It was something she could only dream about.
Pride. The pride on herself, the pride on her race, the pride that was broken yet again and again.
She can't run away any longer and won't try to run any longer. She will only face it and defeat it for sure.
She eventually took a deep breath and placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. The shaking subsided and her eyes became firm yet again. It was their fight. Not anyone else's, not Nazarick's, not of her master.
It was their fight to reclaim their lost pride and honor.
A guard got impatient seeing the 'lowly slaves' hesitate and extended his hand to try and grab a beastman's arm.
It did not go as expected. He saw as his hand was cut off from the elbow as it made a brilliant arc and fell beside Raphtalia. He did not have enough time to comprehend the event as his head was separated from his body next. His body fell down as it lost strength. He died with his eyes open not even knowing how death came to be.
"You Dare!"
"Capture them!"
The other guards could only watch helplessly as their fellow guard died. They immediately became agitated and took action to attack. They didn't try to make much sense out of this situation and didn't even consider how one of them died without being able to do anything. If they had tried to make a little sense out of it, they would have known that messing with these demi-humans was a mistake. But alas-
*Swish*
These common guards were no match for Raphtalia's sword as it straight up cut through their bodies as if a hot knife melting butter. Their lived forfeited, their experience added as a reminder of their end.
A few were shaken by all the sudden deaths but their time in Nazarick had steeled them plenty. They looked at the guards who once would have tormented them to the point of no return lying in pools of their blood. Civilians here and there were running in panic after the sudden bloodshed. The atmosphere became noisy.
The group paid no attention to all the chaos and looked at the dead bodies as if wanting to imprint the sight into their minds. Unbeknownst to them, a few were shedding tears as if freed from something.
Raphtalia as the one who committed the deed looked at her hands filled with the blood of her nightmare. She neither felt remorse nor any pity.
She turned around to look at the others. A dog-like demi-human whose family was killed, a kitsune(fox-like demi-human) who had to suffer humiliation every night, a sharkman who was abused in the outpour of a human's frustration. All of her friends were with her, together.
"Let's not give up this time."
That's all she said. But that was enough. She turned around and started moving without giving time for them to respond. A response wasn't needed either.
Their response will be shown in their actions.
Just like that as the moon shone elegantly, the demi-humans marched onwards.