Strangely enough, no one bothered me for the first two hours of my work. Not a single maid—neither the Battle Maids nor the homunculi—so much as peeked into the office. I suspected that an epic drinking bout was taking place somewhere in Nazarick... or at least some equivalent that accounted for the physiology and limitations of the Tomb's inhabitants. While no sounds of drunken revelry or Cocytus attempting to perform the hopak to the sound of female shrieks and whistles reached me, the sensations did. I felt a sort of tickle in my stomach and an ever-increasing flow of faith and adoration from others, which I could now distinguish almost like air temperature, multiplied by scent and a feeling of satiety. In short, I didn't know exactly what was happening, but I felt in my gut—and that was no figure of speech—that the Guardians were acting out and infecting everyone, both the guilty and the innocent, with their eccentricity.
I even felt a little sorry for Khajiit and his cultists, who had surely been caught in the crossfire, but I comforted myself with the thought that if they survived this with their sanity intact, their quest to integrate into the Nazarick collective could be considered complete.
Far worse was the fact that as I sorted through the baggage of spells inherited from Momonga, arranging them into the most optimal and effective combinations, my thoughts drifted—subtly at first, then more deeply—into self-analysis. The problem wasn't the act of evaluating my own actions, but the results of that evaluation. The longer I thought, the more they depressed me.
I couldn't say my actions were mistaken; most of my decisions and deeds seemed more than correct and appropriate for the situation. But the minority, along with the motivation and thoughts that accompanied them... they were simply flawed. Limited. Obsessive! My notebook of Dark Overlord Rules had truly helped straighten out the most glaring distortions, but a few dozen phrases cannot describe everything for every occasion in life. Consequently, small details influenced by my existence as a Lich-Lord leaked through constantly. An example? Look at Brita! Why did I suddenly decide that to help someone I wanted and had already decided to help, I absolutely had to find some justifying excuse? Why the hell should that be the case?! I had already decided, I wanted to—what other motives or reasons were needed? But no! It was as if I were stuck on the idea that I needed some formal reason, a "tit for tat" arrangement; only that way, and no other. I didn't doubt for a second in that moment that providing aid was possible only and exclusively if I also received some material benefit from it. It was an unconditional, ironclad certainty that was not subject to any critical reflection.
Or another example: the prisoners from the Slane Theocracy. I gave them "into the possession" of an Archdevil who, by both his nature and his flavor text, is an absolutely immoral "Doctor Mengele" of the fantasy world. I handed them to a sick, sadistic bastard who, while understanding the difference between an animal and a human, sees that difference only in the fact that experiments on animals are boring, whereas humans provide much more room for creativity. And all I did was tell him once—dismissively and almost in passing—that the prisoners should be fed and kept in conditions where they wouldn't die on their own. Just... checking a box.
To say that these examples gave me the sensation of a bucket of ice water poured down my collar would be an understatement. To be honest, the fate of specific religious fanatics who dealt in sabotage, contract killings, and the mass slaughter of their own kind—simply because they were in the way and lived in a neighboring country, all under loud slogans about the righteousness of their actions and the protection of humanity—didn't bother me much. I considered their fate deserved and correct, if I'm being perfectly sincere. What shook me was the realization of how little I controlled my own will. Моy motivation, thoughts, and beliefs—all of it had been casually crumpled and crushed by "existence determining consciousness," despite all my efforts to resist. Adding a foul aftertaste to the situation was the fact that correcting any of these blunders was... not entirely impossible, but... too late.
Or was it?
A new thought caused me to finally abandon my work with the former body-owner's spell repertoire and focus entirely on myself.
Following this, with cursing and gnashing of teeth, I teleported to the Frozen Prison, as close as possible to the "private chambers" of one specific prisoner. I had remembered her as well, but I had simply brushed it off. "Is she in a controlled environment and causing no trouble? Well then, that's fine; there are more important tasks, and this one can wait for better times, especially since I don't know how to solve it..." The fact that these "controlled conditions" were a literal torture chamber, where even a normal person would go mad in a week—let alone a "prescribed" lunatic—didn't bother Lich-Me in the slightest. More precisely, I utterly failed to see the logical gaps and contradictions in the postulate that, well, since she was already insane and there was no fixing it, why bother? Like, sure, she's locked in a place where she is naturally subjected to continuous torture that not only can, but basically must, worsen her condition, but she's already crazy anyway, and there's nothing you can do about it. Take her out, leave her in—nothing changes, she stays crazy, so let her stay there. After all, there's nothing you can do... And yet, even then, I didn't consider the NPCs to be mere puppets; I was even beginning to feel sympathy and care for them, but... I was fundamentally incapable of realizing, "Wait, what's wrong with this?"
Great, isn't it? You wish someone well, you pity them, you like them, but you calmly leave them in a torture chamber simply because you can't immediately and completely solve all their problems. Brilliant logic! It's chilling...
And so, I now walked through a dark, gloomy, and cold corridor. A crust of ice crunched faintly under my feet; behind the walls, I could sense crowds of mindless undead ready to rush at intruders at any moment; steam rose from my breath... Even the external atmosphere made me very uncomfortable, and what was happening inside the rooms I sought... Tabula, you sick freak. If Sebas knew exactly where I was heading, he would have thrown a fit, heh. Though, then again, maybe he wouldn't have...
One more step—and I reach out my hand toward the correct section of the wall. A white, translucent limb immediately appeared from it, holding a child's doll, and unresistingly placed it into my fingers. Another step, and the heavy doors made of black stone, located in the center of a dilapidated fresco of a "mother and child," creaked open ominously, and a storm hit my senses. First came the sound: the echo of a hundredfold cry and the weeping of thousands of infants. A step. The walls, lost in the gloom but revealing outlines of faces distorted in agony and torment. Children's faces. And in the center of this grim room—a thin female figure rocking a cradle. Her outfit was a simple dress—no, a simple funeral dress, more like a shroud. Her face was completely hidden by long, jet-black hair, exactly like Albedo's.
"Deception! Deception! Deception!" Pulling a baby doll from the cradle, the prisoner hurled it at the wall. The wall survived the collision; the doll did not. "My baby! My baby!" The gnashing of teeth and the increasing volume of weeping followed. And then, "Eyeball Corpses"—vaguely child-shaped, eternally rotting, translucent lumps of flesh—began to crawl out of the walls. The stench of decay hit my nose.
Even knowing what to expect from Momonga's memory, I was shocked and, frankly, scared shitless. This isn't just "creepy," this is an absolute clusterfuck! When the girl pulled a pair of large, bloodied scissors from the cradle and lunged toward me, I couldn't take it anymore. I had two options: either blast the area with "Uriel"—thankfully, now without the undead restriction, this tenth-tier Holy spell would hit exactly as it was meant to—or... My flesh fell away as gray ash. Fear, disgust, and pity receded into the background. I knew I should be feeling them, but my old friend, the emotional dampener, reliably shielded me from such weakness.
"Here is your child," I said, holding the doll out to the prisoner. The woman froze, mid-stride. The script was fulfilled. Had I not performed this action, an attack would have followed—another "easter egg for guests" from Nazarick's kind Chief Alchemist. First, the Area Guardian scares the shit out of you, then immediately enters combat if you don't fulfill the hidden condition, even if you are the Guildmaster ten times over.
The scissors fell to the floor, and the unfortunate woman's hands were occupied by the doll.
"Lord Momonga," a soft and benevolent voice said, contrasting so sharply with her outfit and the "skinned" face I had seen during the attack, "is everything well with you?"
"Yes, Nigredo, everything is well with me. Though I am now named Zellos. I changed my name along with my race." By the way, I wondered how she recognized me? Even my robe looks different now, and I had entered in my living form.
"Names... Names are but a set of sounds, as transient as the wind. A slight shift in the breeze, and the sound changes." Hmm, can this be classified as esoteric nonsense? Regardless, it didn't matter.
Coping with the surge of emotions, I shed my lich form, returning to my more pleasant state. Even if it wasn't in the most pleasant of places, communicating with a sick girl while in the guise of a cold machine... felt wrong. I felt it with my entire being.
"How are you doing here?" I knew it was a stupid question, but nothing else came to mind.
"I..." She bowed her head again, covering her mutilated face with her hair, which I was glad for. "It is so cold and lonely here. Only me and my baby!" She hugged the doll. "We are sad. My Lord, how are my younger sisters? Are they well?"
"Albedo is doing wonderful; she is busy with Nazarick and, I hope, happy. And Rubedo... I have not visited her yet."
"Ah, little Spinel!" There was a hint of a smile in her voice. "So serious and so deceptive, bringing so much trouble and disorder!" Hmm, now that was interesting. When someone who is admittedly crazy but has Prophet classes states that someone is "bringing so much trouble"... it's not a good sign.
"And what kind of trouble does Spinel bring?"
"Disorder. She is the youngest. The most beloved. Fretful. And spoiled."
"But you will look after her if I ask you to?"
"My Lord? Lord Zellos will allow me to leave this place and meet my sister?"
"If that is what you want," I said, trying to smile, though I felt the urge to switch back to undead form again. Just to avoid feeling this shame. I understand that Smaragdina couldn't have known when writing the lore and setting for the NPC in an MMO that this NPC would become a living being, but the mere sight of this truly kind and caring girl, despite her madness, made me want to do something to that mutant-cadaver creator that would make even Demiurge and the late Neuronist grunt in respect.
"Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! No! No! I cannot! I must care for my baby. Yes, yes, my baby needs to be put in his crib. Forgive me, My Lord!" And Nigredo took a fluid step back, then another, and another, walking backward until she reached the cradle and placed the doll inside. The infant crying that had died down began to gain strength once more.
"Enough," I whispered, closing my eyes and reaching for the sensation that had recently taken residence in... hm, my soul? Or somewhere else? In any case, it had become my companion. My Will, my Vision of Things, my Interpretation of Reality. I desire the healing of this girl, the restoration of her mental balance and clarity of mind. And since I desire it, so let it be.
My new "Wish," also known as "Divine Miracle," couldn't be called a spell in the full sense of the word. It had no strictly defined laws or principles of operation, and its effect was different every time. In many ways, "Divine Miracle" was indeed very similar to the in-game "Wish Upon a Star," which was a super-tier spell that consumed accumulated experience to use. But only upon calling on this power did I realize how great the difference between them was. "Wish Upon a Star" in the game required the wish to be spoken, and the "world" (read: the game) could interpret it in dozens or hundreds of different ways, depending on the accuracy of the phrasing and the imagination of the developers writing the activation algorithms. Here, I myself was the "executor." All-powerful and... quite limited. I couldn't create what I didn't understand or know; I couldn't learn about what I had no concept of; I couldn't change what had already happened a long time ago. But I could fix what a juvenile moron—even an adult one—had wrought with his clumsy hands for the sake of "atmosphere."
Nigredo froze over the cradle. An invisible wind blew the hair from her face, revealing how skin was rapidly growing over the exposed and bleeding muscles, immediately turning pale with horror and the realization of what was happening. After a few seconds, the girl blinked for the first time in her life with her newly grown eyelids and stared at the doll in the cradle in shock and confusion. And recoiled.
"My... My Lord? What..." She faltered. "What is wrong with me?"
"I have corrected Tabula Smaragdina's stupidity," I said, looking away.
"The madness... the voices... they are gone! Thank you, My Lord!" She collapsed to her knees. Now I could definitely see the family resemblance. Based on her new features, she was the spitting image of Albedo, only without the wings and horns, shorter in stature, not quite as curvaceous, and her eyes weren't yellow-green with vertical pupils, but rather a lilac-red with a normal black pupil in the center. Though... it seems I set that appearance myself during the healing, simply by analogy with the concept of "sisters." And... she began to cry too... "C-creator... w-why did he... why?" A good question, one I simply couldn't answer.
"I... don't know. Youth, stupidity, his own madness. All I can do is ask for your forgiveness, Nigredo. For him and for myself." I gently knelt before the girl.
"N-no, the L-lord is not to blame for anything! You... You have performed a true miracle and returned my mind to me. I do not know how to thank you, Zellos-sama."
"You do not need to thank me. Но... let's get out of here. You should rest, take a walk through Nazarick, talk to your sister and the other Guardians." I began to gently stroke the former prisoner's hair. It was just as soft and silky as her sister's. "When you have recovered a bit, come to me—I will try to answer the questions you have."
"Lord Zellos is so kind," she sobbed. "I... Yes! I very, very much want to leave this place."
"Then let's go." I stood up and helped Nigredo up.
A mental effort—and a portal arch opened before us, which I led the girl into. The portal led to Tabula Smaragdina's private quarters. This was not the time to look for other living accommodations for Albedo's newly healed sister, and besides... it was unlikely to work. Nazarick was still buzzing in my perception with a collective psychosis of happiness, so I reasonably assumed it would be difficult to find even the homunculus maids at their usual posts, let alone the Pleiades and Albedo. Furthermore, bothering Albedo right now was clearly not the best idea, especially for such a purpose. Not only was I certain not to get any rational thinking out of her today, but in such a state, she would guaranteed imagine a million horror stories about how her beloved had traded her for her older sister. In principle, I didn't doubt that even in a more balanced and calm state, she would have such thoughts, but at least then it would hit her emotional stability less... I think. Actually, for the same reason, touching anyone else in Nazarick, including Sebas, was not recommended—they would leak the info instantly or get caught trying to slip away from the party, coming up with nothing better than telling a crowd of overexcited fanatics that the Lord was summoning them, resulting in Albedo rushing over in even greater panic and distress. In short, it was easiest to simply house Nigredo in her creator's rooms—they were sitting empty anyway. Even easier, of course, would have been to house her in mine, but, hey, we understand that would cause an order of magnitude more problems than summoning my Guardians and Pleiades right now!
"Rest here for a couple of days." Still holding the girl by the shoulder, I led her toward the doors behind which the bedroom should be located. "Sleep, think. I would like you to talk to your sister, but it's best not to bother Albedo today or tomorrow, so just rest and get used to your new state."
"Yes... As you say, My Lord," Nigredo agreed, following submissively.
"If you wish, I can cast a sleep spell on you so you fall asleep faster," I offered, now standing in the bedroom and letting go of her shoulder.
"No, please, don't trouble yourself!" the eldest of the three sisters almost recoiled, raising her hands to her chest with clenched fists. "I... I'm not entirely sure I want to sleep right now, I mean..." She trailed off, clearly flustered and confused. "It would be disrespectful! I..."
"Nigredo," I said, stopping the burgeoning panic softly but firmly, "get into bed and try to sleep. You need this right now, so I am ordering you to do so. I will sit with you until you fall asleep. And do not worry about disrespect—my actions are dictated by my desires. You are not forcing me to act this way; I want to. Now, lie down. You have... never once lay on a bed... or slept."
The words had barely left my lips before I regretted them. It was definitely an unnecessary reminder of her situation. And the girl confirmed it, slumping almost instantly.
"Yes... As you command, Master..." Her voice also took on a much more colorless tone than it should have.
However, I didn't say anything further on the matter. Sometimes silence is golden, and I had already said too much. In short, the former prisoner of the Frozen Prison soon climbed onto the bed and hesitantly lay on the edge, not even thinking of touching the blanket. I had to use my will to cover her myself, and then indeed sat down nearby. Well, how nearby? On the other end of the epic king-sized bed, just like the one in my bedroom, simply so as not to unnerve her too much with my presence. If I had sat right next to her, she would never have fallen asleep; I know these residents of Nazarick. As it was, she fell asleep after a mere three hours, which I spent continuing to mentally sort through my available spells.
Waiting a little longer just to be safe, I thus saw the morning through, and it was time to return to E-Rantel.
"Nabe." The Message spell activated even without placing my fingers to my temple, through sheer will alone. "I intend to head into the city. Where are you now?" Since the girl had been present at my "rebirth," I had to take her back; otherwise, I feared she would spend the rest of her life thinking she had done something terribly wrong, falling out of favor with her master because he had abandoned her services and gone on a new journey alone without saying anything. Given the doppelgänger's occasionally samurai-like psychology, that could end... poorly.
"I am carrying out your assignment to look after the inn and the adventurers you hired in your absence, Master!" the Battle Maid responded briskly. "I felt obligated to have everything prepared for your return!"
"M..?" She teleported there herself without waiting for an order? That was new.
"F-forgive me, Lord! When you took me to Nazarick yesterday, you said it was only until tomorrow, and I thought you intended to return to your research in this place in the morning as usual!" Narberal chirped apologetically, falling further into a panic.
"Yes, you did well," I said, de-escalating the situation. With a mental effort, I shifted from my sitting position to my own office, and from there I opened a dark portal arch. Stepping through the portal, I found myself in the chosen room of the rented inn, facing a respectfully bowing Gamma. "Nabe?"
"Yes, Lord Zellos?" The girl's adoring gaze at my person had subtly changed; something... hungry had begun to flicker in it. No... oh, you don't want to... hmph. Well, it's logical, and I'm very much for it, but definitely not right now. Besides, at the moment, continuing the study of magic seemed far more attractive than all the beauties in the world.
I caught that last thought and studied it carefully. And I wasn't lying, which was strange, especially after sitting for half the night on a bed with a sleeping girl who, while not having the most prominent curves, was quite well-developed and now had a very attractive face... What could this be related to? There were two options: one good, one not so much. The "not so much" one was that divine nature itself rejects everything "base," switching interest instead to the aspects of the deity. But I found that hard to believe—every setting Yggdrasil was based on stated the exact opposite; the gods there quite frequently procreated, including with mortals and immortals alike. The second option was far more mundane; as a... hmm, colleague, I suppose, penned by one of the few truly worthwhile British writers once said: "FEELINGS ARE A MATTER OF GLANDS." My glands were "fresh off the assembly line," whereas the rationalism of my thinking, "inoculated" by existing in the form of a lich, hadn't gone anywhere—especially since it landed on the fertile ground of a lonely misanthropic engineer. Therefore, I continued to act logically, rather than like a sailor returning from a year-long tour in the Pacific, which, admittedly, I had also feared. No, "entering into life" must be done without excesses—with feeling, with sense, and with deliberation.
I took a deep breath. It smelled of old wood, and the scent of fresh bread drifted in from the street. A lich couldn't have smelled that. A small thing, but how pleasant.
"I want a bun. And a glass of milk," I said. One must start small.
"I shall depart for Nazarick immediately to bring you everything you require!" the girl blurted out, jumping to her feet. It seems this will be a bit more difficult than it looks.
"There's no need to trouble yourself; the local kitchen surely has them," I said, gesturing to stop the Pleiade who was already preparing to teleport.
"B-but..." Narberal stammered, caught completely off guard. "The local food is so coarse and primitive..."
"I haven't eaten anything in a very long time, Nabe. One should reacclimatize to food with something simple, not exotic wines and culinary masterpieces. Besides, where in Nazarick would you find cow's milk?" I specified "cow's" for a reason; I didn't doubt for a second that those psychopaths would find a way to milk anything from my elven twins' dragons to some Hellhounds from Demiurge's domain. Shalltear's perverted imagination combined with Albedo's obsession could even... yes, they could... I don't want to think about it.
"Very well. Please wait here while I go to the baker, my Lord," the beautiful Asian woman said, bowing low.
"Just go to the kitchen and ask Brita to give you what you need," I replied, barely suppressing a heavy sigh.
"But..." The girl's face reflected genuine agony and a passionate desire to protect me from a danger I "failed to understand." "My Lord... She might not have everything!" the Pleiade argued.
"Then take whatever she has," I said, callously crushing the maid's final hopes. "If our friends aren't dying from the local cooking, then I won't either."
"As you command, my Lord..." Narberal murmured dejectedly. Her shoulders slumped, her head drooped, and her cheeks puffed out with sorrow. I felt a twinge of guilt and wanted to pull her into a comforting hug; I had to force myself to resist. But I didn't regret the absence of my emotional suppressor—this was a pleasant victory over my own impulses.
Waiting until the Battle Maid had stepped through the door, I allowed myself a tired sigh and pressed my fingers to my temple. I hoped Sebas had recovered from the general frenzy and was capable of thinking clearly. Who else, if not him? I needed to give the butler instructions regarding Albedo's older sister. First, to feed her when she woke up, and second, to ensure the homunculus maids—who regularly dusted the Creators' quarters—didn't spread the news to everyone after stumbling upon an unexpected guest. In short, I had to brief the man. Since he's so kind and righteous, he can show some male solidarity and help me manage this panopticon; he's been relaxing far too much while I'm buried in work here...
Blue Rose. Shortly before.
"An entire embassy, reinforced by one of the kingdom's strongest teams, all for a single caster! Don't you think this is a bit much?" Tina grumbled for the nth time during the journey, wincing at the clouds of road dust kicked up by the dozens of horses in the procession.
"His Majesty listened to Captain Stronoff's warning and deemed it necessary," Lakyus responded, maintaining the mask of a leader's disdain for travel inconveniences.
"With all due respect to the Captain, he is clearly exaggerating," Tia chimed in, supporting her sister while scowling at the necessity of dragging herself along on horseback and swallowing dust.
"Then we'll just enjoy the stroll and breathe some fresh air! Maybe we'll finally run into a real man on the road instead of these pathetic virgins!" Gagaran shifted her monstrous warhammer to her other shoulder.
"We could have spent this time hunting bandits instead. That batch with the Black Lotus was clearly grown somewhere in the kingdom."
"We'll get to them too," a short girl in a featureless white mask replied dryly. "But the appearance of such a figure within the kingdom's borders cannot be ignored. If this caster's power is truly as great as the Captain believes, we must at least ensure his neutrality."
"Pff, if there's anyone who shouldn't worry about the power of some random casters, it's you, Shorty!" the giantess laughed shortly.
"Believe me, there are beings far stronger and more dangerous than I am," Evileye said, not sharing her friend's light tone.
"You're always so gloomy! It's high time you found yourself a man and relaxed properly! That young lieutenant was actually quite decent!"
"..." Although the mask hid her face, all the girls felt clearly what their friend thought of such suggestions and exactly where she recommended they go.
"Gagaran, stop pestering Evileye," the team leader scolded the giantess. "Look, the walls of E-Rantel are in sight. Soon we can order a bath and get some rest. I can't wait to wash off all this dust and stretch out on a proper bed."
The entire female collective was in complete agreement with that sentiment.
Upon reaching the city, the envoys split up. Captain Gazef stayed with his men to guard His Highness Prince Zanac and Marquis Raeven, who headed straight for the inner castle—the residence for the monarch and his family during their visits. Blue Rose, however, preferred to go to the Adventurers Guild branch to gather the latest news and assess the local situation. There were still two days of travel to their final destination, Carne Village, which meant camping in the woods—the Borderlands forest. Even these powerful and experienced adventurers wanted to know the current status of goblins and ogres in the area, and whether anything worse had moved in.
The news they received was disconcerting. About a week ago, a caster named Zellos had appeared in the city, perfectly matching the description they had been given. He had hired several adventurers under an apprentice contract and rented a nearby inn, which he immediately enchanted. Every local caster, led by the Master of the Magicians Guild, Theo Rakepheer, had spent days standing by the building's walls trying to understand how the enchantments worked.
"Tia," the leader turned to her friend, "go to the royal residence and inform Captain Stronoff that the caster we seek might be much closer than we thought. Let him come and see for himself; you will guard the envoys in the meantime."
"Fine," the ninja replied with some dissatisfaction; evidently, she also wanted to see the mysterious mage.
"And we'll go see what exactly they've done to this tavern that's so unusual," Lakyus said, nodding decisively to herself as she led her companions toward the specified building.
---
"Well?! What's the verdict?!" Gagaran demanded after her magically gifted friends had spent a good ten minutes circling the unfortunate inn.
"I have no idea what kind of magic this is," Evileye replied, sounding defeated.
"So, it's all just tavern gossip, and we bothered the handsome Captain for nothing?" Gagaran asked, confused. "Heh... Oh well, I'll give him a couple of kisses as an apology and he'll forgive us!" she added a second later with an anticipatory, mischievous smile.
"No," the masked girl choked out from a dry throat. As they had approached the building, the sorceress had begun to feel strange, and the closer they got, the more inexplicable the sensations became. But what she saw on site was... was... As a two-hundred-and-fifty-year-old vampire and the princess of a long-forgotten country, Keeno Fasris Inberne was at a loss for words. "This magic... it is incredible! I cannot even determine its tier. It is definitely higher than the sixth, but the energy density makes even Lakyus's sword look like a child's toy!"
"How is that possible?" Tina asked, glancing at her skeptically.
"I can't imagine," the team leader replied in place of the sorceress, trying her best not to betray her own astonishment. "But whoever cast these enchantments is undeniably very powerful... And I didn't want to believe Stronoff," she added with a touch of bewildered regret.
The companions exchanged looks, hesitating to voice the thought on the tips of their tongues.
"Shall we go in and introduce ourselves?" Gagaran broke the silence, adjusting her warhammer.
"Very well," Evileye nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "But I'm going in first. Stay sharp and be ready for anything."
No one argued with the strongest, albeit smallest, member of the team, and the girls stepped inside.
The tavern's common room was almost empty, save for a small group of four sitting at one of the tables, relaxedly drinking beer and chatting. There were two young men whose clothing and mannerisms marked them as novice warriors or rangers, a large bearded man with a kind face and hair tied back with a leather cord in the druid fashion, and a female warrior with disheveled flame-red hair. All of them wore the iron plates of the Adventurers Guild.
"Excuse me," their entrance did not go unnoticed, but while the men simply blinked in confusion and disbelief, the redhead hurried to meet them. "This inn is currently closed, and..."
"By the Four Gods, it's Blue Rose!" a blonde lad in a red jacket exclaimed, leaping to his feet in excitement. The exclamation was familiar; it usually followed the squad in whispers, not in such a loud outburst. "Don't listen to her, beautiful ladies!" The blonde quickly stepped in front of the redhead. "Brita is very provincial and can be tactless! Please, come in, take a seat! Perhaps you'd like some drink—" A resounding smack to the head cut off the fan's tirade.
"Who are you calling provincial, you half-baked dandy?!" the disheveled adventurer snarled, looming over the fallen body with a clenched fist. "Have you lost your mind?! Do you want Lady Narberal to make us all run lightning-laced laps because of your stupidity?!" Turning her face back to the newcomers, she continued in a softer, regretful tone: "Forgive him. But the inn really is closed. Our employer has rented it for the entire month."
"May I ask who your employer is?" Lakyus inquired, her interest piqued by the mention of a "Lady Narberal," which suggested a potential misunderstanding that made everything even more intriguing. Her companions offered silent approval.
"He is a powerful sorcerer named Zellos," the other young warrior, the one with shorter hair, answered while shyly running a hand through his hair and smiling awkwardly.
"Oh," Lakyus smiled with relief. "He is exactly who we are looking for. I am Lakyus Alvein Dale Aindra, leader of the adamantite-ranked team Blue Rose. We would like to meet with Master Zellos; could you inform him of our visit?"
"Oh...!" The one called Brita faltered, exchanging glances with the others. "Fine, I'll go," she agreed with a short sigh. She then leaned sharply toward the blonde who had managed to sit up and was now happily staring at them, clearly unoffended by the blow. "Keep your mouth shut! None of your usual antics, understand?!"
"Whatever you say!" the fool assured her with a goofy grin. And he kept staring...
"I should tie you up and gag you just to be safe..." the adventurer muttered to herself as she straightened up. "Watch him, or he really will blurt something out and get himself killed," she warned her companions before shooting the luckless lad one more dark look and heading for the stairs.
An awkward silence hung in the room, broken quite unexpectedly.
"Hello there, handsome," Gagaran said with her characteristic grace and directness, smiling as she approached the druid. Despite his impressive build, he was still slightly shorter than the warrior woman, though he could certainly match her in shoulder width. "Why don't you tell me and my friends what's going on here, and how those lightning-laced laps that messy girl threatened you with work?"
"With pleasure, Miss Gagaran," the man replied, recovering from his fleeting surprise with a smile.
"Oh, a gentleman!" the warrior cheered. "It's been a while since someone called me 'Miss'! How about we find a private room?"
"Er..." The big man, unaccustomed to such a style of communication, gaped.
"Ha ha ha!!! I like you!" she laughed, slapping him on the back. "Alright, virgins, what is there to drink around here?" she asked, turning to the boys.
Evileye ground her teeth in irritation under her mask, annoyed that this pain in the neck was getting distracted in the middle of a job and embarrassing them in front of everyone. But the sorceress wasn't allowed to dwell on those thoughts for long. The stairs creaked. Brita appeared first, followed by a short boy carrying a spellbook, and behind him...
The strongest member of Blue Rose lost her breath, even though she didn't strictly need it. A wave of strange, indescribable, and terrifying sensations washed over her. At the sight of the tall man descending the stairs in exquisite black robes and a featureless gray mask, all her natural instincts seemed to go haywire. Before her stood something beyond limits, something incomprehensible—a monster among monsters, Death incarnate and more. Someone she, with all her power and experience, wouldn't be able to even slow down; someone who could kill her friends with a snap of his fingers. This sensation permeated her from her gut to her very hair. And yet, at the same time, it was the presence of a beautiful, noble, great, and powerful being, a sight that sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach and made her want to squeal with joy like a little girl. The caster's heart began to race at a frantic speed, and blood rushed to her cheeks...
"Heart?" Evileye grabbed her chest in shock. Her heart hadn't beaten for over two hundred years...
"Hey, Evy, are you okay?" Tina noticed something was wrong.
"This man is dangerous," the sorceress squeezed out from a hoarse throat, literally forcing the words. "Captain Gazef was right; we are all dust beneath his feet. If anything goes wrong—run. Even the Demon Gods are nothing next to him."
"Good afternoon," the mage greeted them as he approached. "I was told you were seeking a meeting with me."
"Yes," Lakyus bowed her head respectfully for a second and looked with interest directly into the eyes of the featureless mask. She had to tilt her head quite far back, though she could only be called short when standing next to Gagaran. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lakyus Alvein Dale Aindra, and these are my teammates—Gagaran, Evileye, and Tina. Together, we are the adamantite-ranked adventurer team Blue Rose, which also includes Tina's sister, Tia."
"Hmph..." the man grunted shortly, and Evileye felt as if everything inside her had collapsed.
He was looking at Lakyus. At the recognized beauty Lakyus, with her stunning green eyes, stately figure, and meticulously styled hair. Her perfect face adorned with a charming smile, her sensuous pink lips, her high chest visible even under her armor. Her beautiful legs, perfectly outlined by her tight-fitting crimson hose... Her... her... everything so perfect! And in contrast, there was she, Evileye, in an old, ragged outfit that had never been properly mended, with disheveled, long-uncut hair, a tattered cloak, and an ugly mask... tiny as a flea. He... he... he won't even look at her now!
"I am pleased to meet you, ladies," the sorcerer found his answer in the fraction of a second it took for the vampire princess to suffer an uncontrollable bout of panic and despair. "Please forgive me in advance if I unintentionally violate any rules of etiquette; I have not yet had the chance to familiarize myself with the manners accepted in your kingdom. In turn, allow me to introduce my charming companion." The man gestured to a girl behind him whom the sorceress had completely failed to notice until that moment. "Her name is Narberal. She is my assistant and bodyguard."
The sight of the stranger again made Evileye feel a heavy sense of longing and envy, even though she had recently been convinced she had long outgrown such trivialities and would never again be embarrassed by her youthful appearance. Tall, with flawless skin and exotic features, Narberal was a striking beauty even compared to Lakyus. Her long, silky hair of a rare black shade was pulled into a ponytail, her ample chest stood out against her pristine white shirt, and her ungloved hands gleamed with perfectly clean skin, devoid of calluses or dirt under the nails. It was all too much. Too much for a girl who had long abandoned any thoughts of men.
"A pleasure," the leader of Blue Rose nodded again.
"So, what brings one of the country's most famous adventurer teams to me?" the mage asked, his face turning toward Evileye. No, definitely! He looked at her! She was sure of it!
"Eeeeeek!!!" The sorceress was terrified that her inner squeal could be heard in the next city, but she couldn't help herself. This had never happened to her before. "I look so terrible! I need to comb my hair! And change my cloak! It's good I have a mask on so he can't see my expression—it must look incredibly stupid right now... Agh!!! What am I thinking?!" Evileye literally grabbed her head, no longer paying attention to the other's gaze. "My mask is scary; I made it that way myself. It would be better if he could see my face!" Then it dawned on her that the man she was thinking about was also wearing a featureless mask, which meant... meant... "Could we be alike? What if he is also... A beautiful, kind, and powerful, wonderful, tall vampire living among humans... Aaaaah!!! What is wrong with me? Why am I thinking like such a girl?!"
"We arrived as part of an embassy," Lakyus's voice broke through the veil of the tiny sorceress's fantasies and turmoil, "which His Majesty Lanposa III sent to Carne Village to meet a caster named Zellos, who saved the Captain of the Royal Guard, Gazef Stronoff, and single-handedly crushed the Sunlight Scripture of the Slane Theocracy that was ravaging the border villages. When we arrived in the city, we learned of rumors that a mage of the same name had rented an entire inn and placed very powerful protective enchantments on it. We decided to check if you were the same Zellos, and it seems we were not mistaken." Lady Aindra smiled, as if asking for forgiveness for such tactlessness. Meanwhile, the local adventurers' jaws collectively hit the floor. Apparently, the mage hadn't seen fit to tell them about his exploits.
"A humble, beautiful hero!" a new thought flashed in Evileye's head, making her heart pound even faster, but then she caught herself: "Beautiful?! How do I know? Ugh, I can't help myself! No, it's fine. Can't I allow myself 'girly' thoughts at least once in hundreds of years?! After all, he's so strong... Exactly! He's a great mage who is far stronger than I am! My knees are buckling just standing near him!"
"Well, you are right; that was indeed me," Zellos replied. "Though I won't lie, I held a faint hope that I wouldn't be disturbed for at least a couple of months, or better yet, years. Though the longer I stay in your world, the more I realize how naive those hopes were."
"In our world?" Evileye even regained her sober thinking out of surprise.
"Yes," the mage nodded. "By now I am fully certain that the anomaly that threw me here was inter-world in nature. But forgive my rudeness. Please, take a seat wherever you find comfortable. Have something from the bar or some snacks; it's all included in the rent anyway."
"Ha, I'm starting to like him! You can tell right away he knows how to handle women!" Gagaran was in her element.
Nevertheless, the guests did sit down, accompanied by the "respectful awe" of the local adventurer team, who listened to the conversation, afraid to miss a single word. Evileye also sat at the collectively chosen round table, ending up almost directly opposite the sorcerer and his dark-haired companion. Only when her bottom touched the stool did the girl realize how badly her knees were shaking.
"Will you have anything, your Magestyship?" Gagaran, who really had managed to run to the bar, was now pouring the contents of three bottles into several glasses. The lead sorceress of Blue Rose noted out of the corner of her eye how Narberal winced at the question.
"Thank you, but I do not drink alcohol," Zellos declined. "However, it would be impolite of me to just sit here. Nabe," he turned to his companion, "bring me a glass of milk, please."
The members of Blue Rose exchanged a collective look. This was not at all how they had imagined the diet of a powerful caster in such a sinister black robe. The image did not fit with a glass of milk, causing internal dissonance and a strange mental itch.
"One moment, Master." Not a single muscle moved on the bodyguard's face, and she pronounced the title with a clear capital letter. She stood calmly and went to the kitchen. Half a minute later, she returned with a glass of the requested liquid.
"Your milk, Master Zellos," the brunette said, handing over the drink peacefully enough, but the instincts of veteran warriors screamed that she really, really wanted to kill them all. Given the stolen glances she cast at her "Master," the women understood her. Especially Evileye, who was trying to catch her breath and get her thoughts in order—which was very difficult while sitting opposite the tall and mysterious figure of, as it turned out, an inter-world sorcerer.
"Thank you, Nabe," the mage accepted the glass and turned to them. "Is something wrong?"
"A-ah, no, no, everything is fine. It's just that your choice of drink... is quite unusual," the wielder of one of the legendary Swords of Darkness noted cautiously.
"Do you think so?" Zellos seemed genuinely surprised. "In my homeland, drinking alcohol is considered a very harmful habit for mages, one for which a student can easily be expelled from the academy. And I haven't seen any of the drinks I'm used to here yet, so I have to drink milk. Not the worst option, actually," the mage explained patiently.
"Well, to each their own," Gagaran said, not at all discouraged, as she set an opened bottle on the table.
"So," the sorcerer continued the conversation, placing the glass before him. "As I understand it, the local nobility already has some plans for me?"
"Evidently, Captain Stronoff's report, as well as the prisoners from the Sunlight Scripture, made quite an impression on His Majesty," Lakyus smiled diplomatically.
"However, you, ladies, with all due respect, do not look like royal officials, although..." Zellos paused for a second, looking at the team leader. "I believe I saw a mention of your house in one of my books. It was quite noble..."
"No, no," the born Lady Aindra waved her hands. "My team and I were only hired as an escort for His Highness Zanac Valleon Igana Ryle Vaiself and Marquis Elias Brandt Dale Raeven."
"Even so... They clearly want a great deal from me if they're sending a prince."
"Oh, Master Zellos, it is merely a friendly embassy," Lakyus smiled rather tensely, knowing full well that at the top, a struggle over the mage—if not full-blown infighting, then at least "probing bites"—had already begun.
"Well, fine. I am a guest in your land, after all, so it would be extremely rude of me not to honor the envoys. Though I haven't yet figured out the proper etiquette for receiving an embassy according to your country's traditions. However, I suspect that holding a meeting for a delegation led by a prince in a tavern... is not quite right."
"I think we could use E-Rantel's royal residence for such an occasion," the leader of Blue Rose smiled. "I hope you'll forgive us, but this meeting is a bit unexpected for all of us, and I think the details are best discussed later."
"Certainly. Though it seems to me that meeting another delegation in that delegation's own house would be no less strange than in a tavern. I have a better idea. I invite you to be my guests in Nazarick, my residence. I believe it would be quite appropriate to hold the meeting there. Will two days be enough for you to recover from the road and prepare as is customary in these parts?"
"But Master Zellos, we would still need to travel to this residence, wouldn't we?" Evileye asked, torn between the desire to draw attention to herself and the urge to crawl under the table.
"Yes," the mage nodded, reaching up to remove his mask, "but to save time, I am prepared to open a Gate." The mage's mask came off his face, and he took a sip of milk.
"Kya!!!" Something between a chirp and a squeal escaped Evileye's throat when she saw His face.
If she thought her heart was galloping before, she now realized it had barely been crawling. Suddenly it became very stifling and hot; her cheeks burned under the mask as if torches were held against them, her hands shook under the table, and her breath caught...
"Hm?" Zellos raised an eyebrow under a barrage of very... complex gazes as he looked up from his glass. "Is there something on my face?"
"N-no..." Lakyus was staring at Him. Damn it, they all, ALL of them, even that Brita and Narberal, were staring at him! At those perfect facial features, as if carved by the world's finest sculptor; at that fair skin without a single flaw; at that magnificent hair, black as night, a shade she had never encountered before; at those mesmerizing eyes, in the depths of which flickered a flame of magic so powerful it took one's breath away...
"Master Mage, if you ever want to have some fun, I'm ready at any moment!"
"Huh? What?! Gagaran!" Primal Terror seized Evileye. Even if her insufferable friend made such jokes with almost every man she met, right now... "No, no, no! What if He suddenly agrees?! Gods, anything but that! I need to do something! Fast! Immediately! But what?!"
"Um, forgive me, Lady Gagaran, but you are not my type," this perfect man replied with a light, slightly apologetic half-smile—the most wonderful answer in the world—sending the sorceress into the depths of a previously unknown nirvana.
"Ha, well, at least one answered honestly instead of trying to talk his way out of it!" The warrior was not offended at all; if anything, it amused her.
"A-a-and who is your type?" Evileye asked, not expecting such a question to come from her own lips. And in such a pathetic, shy voice.
"Khhk... phe... ugh," all three of her companions choked on air; they hadn't expected that either.
"Well... that is a rather personal question, young lady," he smiled again! At her! It was so, so... Eeeeeee!!! "But... judging by what I see, the roster of Blue Rose fits those criteria. Lady Gagaran, my apologies once again."
"Ah, forget it," she waved it off. "It's not like I don't realize I could never measure up to our girls. Eeh..." The warrior shuddered, and Evileye herself felt as if something incredibly ominous, thirsting for blood and destruction, had glanced at them.
"I... I suddenly feel a bit uneasy," came the voice of the young adventurer who had been slapped several times by his leader. Apparently, this sense of threat had reached them as well.
"Sigh..." A weariness hung in Zellos's voice, the sound of a man who had accepted his fate and no longer tried to fight it. Surprisingly, this sigh immediately cut off the sense of approaching danger. The caster's assistant, though her expression didn't change, took on an almost... guilty look? But she still kept staring at the man of Evileye's dreams!
"What if they are much more than just master and bodyguard?" another terrifying thought struck her. "That is a normal practice everywhere... Aaaaaah, no, it can't be! No, no! Exactly, He said they are from another world! Everything must be completely different there!" Relief came. "But ordinary assistants don't stare LIKE THAT!" It lasted only a short while. The young vampire princess grabbed her head again.
"Miss Evileye? Are you alright?"
"He spoke to me! And with such concern! Aaaaaah, what do I do?! Eeeee! But I made Lord Zellos worry! I have to answer! Or run away! No-no-no, if I run away, I'll regret it for the rest of my life! But it's so sca-a-a-ary! I have absolutely no idea what to do!"
"E-e-e-e-h..." was all that one of the strongest beings in the world managed to squeeze out of herself.
"Don't worry, Lord Zellos," Lakyus smiled, "she's perfectly fine, I assure you."
To the girl's simultaneous relief and regret, a new visitor entered the tavern, drawing everyone's attention.
"Forgive me, but the establishment is temporarily closed," Peter, the short-haired lad from the local adventurer team, began his now-familiar speech once again.
"Peter, he's with me," the Magic Caster interrupted. "Good to see you, Captain," the mage said, rising from the table to greet the guest.
"Lord Zellos," the warrior said, looking slightly bewildered for a split second before recognizing his savior and breaking into a joyful smile. "It seems my men have struck luck for the second time in these lands; they won't have to wander through the deep woods for weeks searching for your home."
"Were there such plans?" the mage returned the smile.
"I'm afraid during our last meeting, I didn't have the chance to ask where your home was located."
"I see. So, your men's stroke of good fortune today goes by the name Blue Rose," Lord Zellos gestured for the guest to take a seat at the table. "To think, I was found on my very first day in the city. Next time, I'll have to work on my concealment." Despite his performative sorrow over the matter, the sorcerer looked rather pleased.
"Speaking of which..." The warrior took a spare chair, pulled it to their table, and sat in the remaining empty spot. "I see you've resolved your issue with the experiment's side effects?" Gazef nodded toward the discarded mask.
"Yes," the caster replied, waiting for the guardsman to settle before returning to his own seat. "Though it required some effort, fortunately, the transition did not affect the preparations I had made previously."
"Forgive me, but what are you referring to?" Lakyus asked, voicing the collective curiosity.
"The consequences of an experiment that forced me to wear a mask," Lord Zellos explained readily. "You have no idea how inconvenient it is to walk around for several years with a face corroded to the bone and eyes burned out, subsisting on magical sustenance."
"That's horrible!" Evileye practically jumped in her seat. Her heart clenched at the description, and a sense of absolute wrongness regarding such a terrible event began to rise within her. "But what about healing magic? Was there not a single priest where you lived who could help?!"
"For the most part, I am a combat mage specializing in Necromancy," the man said with a shrug. "Not everything can be mended by priestly magic. But do not worry, everything is in perfect order now." The mage, looking no older than twenty or twenty-five, glanced at the girls with a hint of melancholy. "Though, in solving one problem, I've acquired a new one, which is why I continue to wear the mask..." The caster closed his eyes at the end of his sentence.
"W-what kind of problem?" Evileye felt a surge of heat again at a terrifying realization.
"Hm... how should I explain it to you..." Zellos's gaze swept across the room, coming to rest on his assistant, who continued to stare at his face with adoration. "Nabe, please bring some more milk."
"..."
"Nabe..."
"P-please forgive me, Master!" the girl startled, returning to the world of the living. "Right away!" The brunette leaped up and vanished toward the kitchen at a speed exceeding any human capability.
The girls remaining in the common room were collectively embarrassed, actively averting their gazes—even the silent Tina, whose profession usually precluded any form of shyness.
"Yes... quite a serious problem," the Royal Guard Captain chuckled knowingly, privately surprised by the mage's youth. Though... there was no guarantee he looked his real age, and he had mentioned "old age" in their previous conversation.
"However, we digress," Lord Zellos continued. "While I'm not thrilled about the reason, I am glad for our reunion. Still, even in these circumstances, there are silver linings," he smiled. "How else would I have the pleasure of meeting a team of such dazzling ladies?"
"Ah! He's so kind! Even next to Lady Narberal, he called me dazzling!.." Evileye caught herself. "No-no-no, that was just a formal compliment! He hasn't even seen my face..." A sudden chill slid down her spine. "It can't be... that is, it's exactly like that! Yes, that's it! He hasn't seen my face, but he's certainly seen Lakyus's and Tina's! That means the compliment must have been meant for them! Aaaaaah! What do I do? What do I do?!"
"Is Miss Evileye truly alright?" the caster asked with suspicion, looking directly at her. To her surprise, the miniature sorceress realized she had managed to miss Miss Nabe's return and that everyone was now staring at her.
"Definitely," Tina nodded, surreptitiously nudging her friend under the table.
"I believe I should apologize," Stronoff said, nodding gratefully as Gagaran slid a mug of beer toward him.
"Hm?"
"My words were partly responsible for the frenzy surrounding your person."
"You are not to blame, Gazef," the mage said, taking a sip from a fresh glass of milk. "It would have come to this regardless, as I couldn't simply sit quietly and collect dust instead of studying new lands and peoples. But I wouldn't have minded a couple of extra months to properly settle into the situation."
"We can help!" Evileye practically flew out of her seat. The mere thought that, but for a series of coincidences, she might never have met Him filled her with terror. She knew it was strange and abnormal, but she couldn't help herself. Her entire essence was drawn to this mage. Even the idea of following one of Gagaran's "brilliant" suggestions—which usually involved something like "...and drag him back to your cave"—no longer seemed so stupid!
"Oh, thank you for such a generous offer," Lord Zellos made the girl's heart skip a beat with a new smile directed personally at her. "I shall certainly take you up on it, but with your permission, only after the negotiations. You must agree, it would be strange to 'settle into the situation' while relying on help from people hired by an interested party. While I have no doubt of your good intentions, the fact itself might be perceived too ambiguously by society." The vampire once again thanked fate for her mask; judging by how her face burned, the last time she had blushed like this... well, she didn't remember ever blushing this hard or feeling so foolish.
"F-forgive me..." She desperately wanted to run away or sink through the floor.
"It is quite alright. I see the offer was made from the heart. To be honest, such readiness to help a stranger marks you as very kind people," the mage chuckled slightly, though few noticed the nuance, "besides, I've managed to grasp the general situation already."
"Then I shall arrange a meeting with His Highness and the Marquis," the Royal Guard Captain nodded, at which the leader of Blue Rose immediately laughed.
"Is something wrong, Lady Aindra?"
"Captain Stronoff, Master Zellos and I have already reached an agreement that holding a meeting with an envoy in a common tavern is a bit strange," the adventurer enlightened the warrior, her green eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Ahem... indeed," Gazef coughed in embarrassment.
"Therefore, we have agreed," the sorcerer continued for her, "that you will invite the Prince and, if you wish, visit my residence yourselves in two days. I shall take care of the transportation."
"Yes, perhaps that would indeed be for the best," the Captain nodded again.
"Excellent then. Well, since business is concluded, perhaps you could share something interesting? We've been in your kingdom for a very short time, and I wouldn't mind a story or two from a renowned warrior and even more renowned adventurers."
"Oh!" The leader of Blue Rose smiled with a certain mischievous delight, causing the masked sorceress to tense up. As it turned out, with good reason. "Evileye knows a wealth of fascinating stories and is a wonderful storyteller."
"Me?!"
"That's right," Tina confirmed, shooting her friend a surreptitious wink.
"Right! This shorty is a veritable treasure trove of talent!" Gagaran delivered the finishing blow, grinning and winking boldly at the completely demoralized vampire. She was very grateful to her friends, but... she also wanted to tell them exactly what she thought of such setups... later... eventually... in her spare time... maybe.