The Grand Council Chamber had scarcely emptied when Ainz Ooal Gown, Albedo, Demiurge, and a handful of skeletal guardians gathered once more by the Mirror of Infinity. Velkharion and his generals—Sythera, Kroxar, Zelefar, Valnor, and Isaril—watched from the Frostfire Throne's steps as the bone‐white king raised his staff.
"Gate," Ainz intoned, and a vertical ripple of mana opened behind him. The Nazarick emissaries stepped through, leaving Velkharion and his council in the hushed afterglow of their newfound alliance.
Moments later, Ainz and his guardians reappeared before the Mirror of Infinity—a polished disk set into black obsidian. Ainz's hollow eyes flickered as he invoked the mirror's sight:
"Mirror, show me Cocytus's front," he commanded.
The glass surface clouded then cleared, revealing the battered walls of Icewall Fortress. Two hundred undead stood amid fractured ramparts. Lizardmen berserkers swarmed their ranks, spears and javelins punching through their ranks. What Ainz saw chilled him: undead bodies strewn in the swamp, their organized lines collapsing into desperate melee.
Albedo's wings fluttered in shock. Demiurge's pale lips tightened. Ainz's skeletal jaw ground into a grim line.
"He's losing," Albedo whispered.
Ainz's grip on his staff tightened. "He underestimated his foes," he said, voice low. "If Cocytus cannot hold, no one intervene."
Ainz turned from the mirror. "Summon Cocytus," he called, voice echoing through the empty halls.
The heavy thud of armored feet sounded as Cocytus entered—mandibles clicking, lance in hand. His carapace‐white plate bore fresh scratches; behind him trailed a half‐dozen wounded Death Knights.
Ainz's hollow eyes glowed. "Report."
Cocytus bowed, imposing even in subjugation. "My lord, the Lizardmen battered our frontline. Our advance faltered among their underground tunnels. I have captured only their chieftains; the rest scatter and regroup."
Ainz's staff crackled with arcane energy. "Im displeased by your results Cocytus. Although I will not hold you fully accountable for your folly. Now what I hope for you is that you learn from this."
Cocytus's mandibles clicked in apology. "My lord, please forgive me for my ignorance in ill preparing for this battle. Please give me another chance and I will crush them by my own hand."
Ainz's hollow laughter echoed like cracking bones. "Very well. No more interference. You handle the Lizardmen—every last one—without aid from the Floor Guardians. Do you understand?"
"I understand," Cocytus rumbled, fists clenching.
Ainz raised his staff in final command. "Then return to the front. Show me the strength of your convictions."
Back in the Eternal Dominion's war room, word of Cocytus's struggle reached Velkharion's scrying orb. He studied the swampy battlefield in silence, then turned to his generals.
"hmmm, it seems Cocytus lost his battle" he said. "He gravely underestimated his enemies."
Sythera's frost‐scaled brow furrowed. "My lord our preparations for Baharuth are ready."
Zelefar tapped a crystalline rod. "We have also planted teleportation points within both Re-Estize and Baharuth's boarders."
Kroxar grinned. "Then we will crush them before they know what happened."
Valnor added, "Funds are ready. We redirect surplus grain and steel to reinforce our allied fronts."
Isaril nodded. "I will dispatch covert scouts to the Theocracy's northern tombs tonight."
Velkharion's crimson eyes gleamed. "Excellent. Let Empire and Theocracy crumble in our wake. And once the Slane faith shatters, Baharuth's leaders will kneel voluntarily."
Late that evening, Velkharion retreated to his private terrace overlooking the Mana Convergence Core. Shuna joined him, moonlight glinting off her dark gown.
"I need your company tonight," she said gently. "Leave your schemes for a while."
Velkharion smiled, the weight of conquest momentarily loosening. "Very well."
Shuna returned his smile, and together they descended into the citadel's quiet corridors—two hearts finding solace amid endless ambition.
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