[40th Year of Foresai, Upper Fire Month, Day 13]

Renner replayed that moment of Gazef’s victory in her mind, pondering its deeper meanings. She was sitting across from him, watching him uncomfortably fidget in one of her chairs. He was overlarge for it, and the hardness of his body contrasted with the elegance of its silken construction. The comic value of this sight was doubled by his holding of a tea cup, him not possessing the wherewithal nor political reserves necessary to refuse her offer of such.

He has always seemed slightly out of place in the palace, disjoint with its furnishings and gilded halls. Although, the fault of that lies with it, not with him. If he, or his soul could be copied into stone and brought to life again and again, imbued in the breasts of most those I am forced to associate with, my life would lose half its stresses. He is no more intelligent than the nobles who have so forced themselves upon the world, indeed he is equally dull to them, but at least he knows to shut his mouth on matters he knows nothing of. How effective a nation of the humble would be.

Climb also sat beside her, him to her dexter. He was more practiced at matters such as tea, having long since realized that it made no sense to fight Renner on matters of finery. He had a near conscious inkling of his role not as only a bodyguard, but a dress-up doll for his mistress; one she could play at tea with. Renner had already gone through the trouble of dismissing Maid Nunia, so the triplet found themselves alone.

I cannot help but wonder what Unglaus would say had he sat here instead. What he would do. I should halt myself before I slip deeper into that line of hypotheticals. It’s idle consideration, and sloth is one thing that the Ruler of Everything will never grant me.

Gazef’s eyes darted between Renner, Climb, and the spread of food before him. This was a small fare by palace standards, cured meats, cheeses, and some fresh cabbage. A look of stern consideration passed over his face, trying to formulate a sentence. His eyes lit, and he finally found his words and his tongue.

“Your Highness, if I could speak.”

“Please voice yourself Warrior-Captain.”

“There’s no need for such a formal method of address, Your Highness.”

“Then, Stronoff, are you ok with my body-guard’s presence?”

“Yes of course, Your Highness.”

“Then things are well-to-be.”

“Your Highness, I must confess that until I spoke with Lakyus a month ago, I did not know you as you are.”

“Many do not see me as such.”

“Yes, and I would like to apologize to you, Your Highness. Please forgive me for such an underestimation of you and your character.”

“There is no need-”

No, humbleness isn’t the correct path here. He is a virtuous man, and has been party to many such false concessions in the past.

“Well, the Kingdom is in need of a Princess, not another medler among thousands. I have a role to embody, a duty to my bloodline, and to the people themselves. Too many in this kingdom weave political schemes. I could play at that too, but none can do what I do in maintaining stability, in serving as I do. Even if it means being seen as naught but a pretty face, it is a necessary burden to bear. Both for the fair blooded, and the populace. You needn’t apologize Stronoff. I long ago accepted this fate.”

Gazef’s eyes burned, the fire in his breast overcoming him.

He is a man of valor, of obligation; I should feign such feelings too. This ought to be the better route. Besides, opining about how I must act as a Princess does not fall far from fact. Verisimilitude in all things, no?

“And yet you found the willpower to fight the institution of slavery?”

Had that been delivered sarcastically, that would have been a brilliant insult. Something Zanac would smith. Sincerity makes such bridges in understanding.

“Some evils I cannot bear to be left unchallenged.”

Climb breathing was labored, him feeling an overbrimming pride at his Mistress’s words. He looked at Gazef, and was happy to see him also impressed.

“It feels every time we speak, my impression of you rises higher than I imagined beforehand.”

“You in twain, Warrior-Captain. Now, to the matter at hand; it seems your intuition was correct.”

“...Yes, it was. How did you know, Your Highness?”

“Zanac loosed his lips on the subject, letting slip the matter of Slane.”

“Yes, Your Highness. When we arrived in E-Rantel a-”

“You traveled northward to the villages Usamsara and Delkirk. You split your forces there, half returning to the fortress, half proceeding to Carne. Carne waswhere you encountered the enemy, and thankfully defeated them. I had caught a glimpse of the charting that had been conducted, but I do have questions.”

“Yes, that's correct, we pursued them pretty much as you had outlined. Please ask, Your Highness.”

“What was the identity of those you were pursuant to?”

“The Sunlit Scripture, as well as a band of their regulars disguised as Imperial knights. They were no greater than us in strength put together, Your Highness.”

“To our luck they were not their duality.”

Their duskly counterparts are busy? To think a plot against Gazef would allow for the sending of the Theocracy’s second best. How little they see him as.

“I would not disagree, Your Highness.”

“Pray tell, what were the villages like?”

“They were razed. Usamsara was sundered entirely to the ground when we arrived. Even the stonework chapel had been blown apart. Delkirk was much the same, although we found a family hidden in the attic of a barn that didn’t ignite, Your Highness.”

All three bore sorrowful looks, Renner turning her head away, looking out the window. She forced a few tears to roll down her cheek, pulling in a few sniffles.

“...Horrifying.”

So such total destruction? Seems strange to have left a barn unlit, perhaps the hay was wet enough to not easily catch. They obviously were thorough in their joykillings, yet only made one pass. They were time-crunched.

“What of Carne?”

“A different matter, Your Highness. When we arrived, we were greeted with a score of bodies. Many villagers, but the entire complement of false-knights had been killed. We saw from a distance that there was a hulking armored beastfolk, and we had steeled ourselves to fight it. When we got near, however, we encountered a man who controlled it.”

“This being Ainz Ooal Gown?”

“Again you rob the words from my mouth, Your Highness. Yes, the behemoth was, by his words, his creation. Something he made whole-cloth from the body of a knight.”

“A wizard of the dead? Ah, what’s the term- necromancer? I know little of the nomenclature of the dark arts.”

Gazef’s cheek twitched slightly, Renner feeling thrown into a state of imbalance at such a reaction.

I’ve made an offense against him, but what? It can’t possibly have been a misappropriation of the terminology, no? Ah, perhaps he is chafing against the phrase “dark arts”. From his telling, I hazard that he’s about to proclaim Gown the savior of the village. Foolish words Renner. Dealing with the genuine is so difficult.

“He certainly has knowledge of such arcana, but I wouldn’t-”

“Characterize him as a dark being. I understand, I apologize for my indiscretion.”

Gazef sat dazed for a moment, simply nodding in affirmation and acceptance of her repentance on such a minor slip of graciousness.

“So you see him as a man of character?”

Another jump on his face!? What could I have said? Gazef, Gazef, Gazef; you’re such a challenging man! Ah, I am doing so pathetic today.

Renner sagged, completely unawares of the content of her mistake. She couldn’t help but wear a pained smile, displaying her feelings of shame at whatever new failure she had made.

“No- Er, yes, I do. Defeating a host of knights is no small task, and to go out of one's way to save a village under attack from such forces… is much to do for strangers, Your Highness.”

“You must think highly of him.”

“I do, Your Highness.”

Climb’s face is burning. He’s probably roiling with fantasies of heroism right now, as well as counteracting cascades of guilt at possessing such fantasies in the scope of the material death which has been so outlined before us. I’ll let you have your dances with chivalry and death one day Climb, I promise you.

“Please, continue.”

“Before I had time to speak with him in full, we were notified that a force of around a dozen had surrounded the village.”

“The Sunlit Scripture?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I realized then that the force was not Imperial, but rather those of Slane who were seeking me. Sir Gown offered to protect the village, which I accepted. I sent my men away, to avoid their lives being spilt when the Theocracy was only after mine.”

To send his men away on such a matter? How frighteningly dedicated is he to his honor. No, not honor. He genuinely wanted to do what he saw as the correct thing. How foolish.

Renner paused, and began to review what she had just thought.

I could never imagine doing such a thing; to so accept death as my fate. To sacrifice myself so that my companions could live. I could see perhaps doing so for Climb. Hm, I’ll need to give this matter more thought later; again, your mechanical hands grip me oh Ruler!

“I engaged them. The lot of them were divine sorcerers, and they summoned angels to do their bidding.”

“Angels?”

Renner had never given much thought to creatures of the divine, besides an abstract fear of their rath. She had seen the pastiche depictions of such beings on the stained glass windows of a few churches in the city, but to be suddenly struck with a reminder of their reality did indeed overwhelm her.

I’ve found myself absent the knowledge in many matters today, first in matters of the thaumaturgical and now in the scope of divinity. If anything, today has taught me how dramatically underprepared I am for such matters. Gods! I have so interested myself in matters of politics I have so severely underdeveloped myself in other areas. Never had I imagined needing such a berth of subjects. Shameful. Triplicate failures in one day.

“They are orderly creatures, Your Highness, made from sharp cuts of… magic. To be honest, they almost look like machines. Nothing like what you would imagine.”

Mechanical embodiments of the heavens? That does not seem unbelievable. An extension of doctrinal perfection into the forms of its arbiters. Interesting.

“And you defeated them?”

Gazef exhaled, a saddened look coming over his face.

“It was rough, Your Highness. The mages were at the top of their class, several of them having access to magic of the third tier. Angels are fast, unnaturally so. They dart through the air and you through so easily with their needle-swords. Every time I struck one down, they simply summoned another. Their leader, Nigun, had some much larger one with him, probably twice my height. I- I would have died, had Sir Gown not saved me.”

Renner drew in breath sharply, refusing to release it as a few more tears ran down her face. Climb’s breathing fell into a rigid, mechanical loop, him instinctually organizing his intake of air in such moments of extreme stress.

He needed rescue? I supposed that he nearly met his end from his condition upon arrival here, but to be outright reduced to such a state… This is a disturbing development.

“Is- is that true, Warrior-Captain Stronoff?”

“Yes, Adjutant Climb. He saved me. Before the battle, he handed me what he had told me was a trinket of his, as a symbol of luck. He had lied, and it was some magical item. I could not guess the details of it, but he must have been observing me. When I was about to be slain, he and I swapped places suddenly, and I was returned to the village at the spot where he was standing. When he came back, he had slew the whole force of them.”

The room fell into silence. Renner finally felt it time to stop forcing tears, and she took a contemplative sip of her tea. Gazef watched her, overlooking her

Hm. To think anyone could best Gazef in a matter of combat is disconcerting. Still, from what he was saying, angels were a great danger to him. It's possible a magic caster would have an easier time of such matters. Slaying a whole scripture though, I’m unsure how much the relative ease of such a matter plays into its occurrence. I remember that name now, Nigun. Lakyus had fought him, and the whole band of the Blue Roses, including Evileye. I remember their vague outline of the event. I’ll need to retrieve specifics from them. It’s possible, although hasty, that the world has gestated a new monster to match Paradyne. Gods, I feel overrun with uncertainty and queries.

“Gazef, I have many questions.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

“What did Sir Gown- no, where did he come from?”

“He said he was a recluse who had been so focused on studying magic that he had forgotten about the world, and had only saved the village when he found it under attack on an outing.”

“Did the villagers know him; rather, know of him?”

“No, it seemed like this was the first they knew of his existence, Your Highness.”

“Why did he save the village from the knights?”

“He said he was doing so for payment.”

What?! Is he daft? Surely he would know that villagers wouldnt have sufficient capital to pay for such service. No, I shouldn’t make assumptions here. If he truly was a hermit, then there’s no telling what strange beliefs might brew in his head.

“That makes no sense.”

“I agree, I think he was lying, Your Highness”

Ah, that seems more congruent with things as we know them. It would be a strange lie to tell, but why? Social ineptitude seems a likely culprit, but I’m unwilling to dismiss a greater meaning.

“Hm, yes I would agree. How old was he?”

“He wore a strange painted mask, I never saw his face. Actually, I never saw any portion of his body. He was covered in a long dark robe, and upon his hands were gauntlets, Your Highness.”

I thought casters wanted their hands free. Wouldn’t such robes be overly restrictive? Ah, this mystery compounds itself.

“So even the matter of his species is in question?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Although, he couldn’t have been too exotic; he did after all have two arms, two legs, and a head.”

“Perhaps he wished to hide his form?”

“It does not seem unlikely, Your Highness.”

Renner paused, trying to digest everything she had heard in the last minute.

Elucidation on these matters will prove difficult, and there is no clear trickery available to draw more information from this. Ah, it seems as if there’s no clear path through. I suppose some more basic questions will need to suffice.

“So this creature he made, you said it was an undead?”

“Yes, Your Highness. It stood taller than me, and seemed to possess extreme strength.”

“Did he use it to fight the Scripture, you had only mentioned the knights?”

“No, I don’t believe so. He did so with his companion.”

“A companion?”

Query Gazef. Could not you have mentioned that earlier?

“Ah! Yes, my apologies, Your Highness. He did bear a companion with him. A woman, I think.”

“Were they also obscured?”

“Completely so, a jet suit of black plate armor. I believe they were female, for their armor bore a feminine form, but I did not get a close look.”

“Was she not there when you arrived?”

“She was, I just didn’t have the chance to interact with her. The men of Slane surrounded us quickly after, Your Highness.”

“Tell me about her.”

“Tall, despite her armor she was lithe. She had a strange way of moving, like her armor weighed nothing to her.”

“A name?”

“Apologies, Your Highness, none that I heard.”

That he had a companion is interesting. A woman doubly so. If she was armored and by his side, then there can be almost no doubt she is his bondswoman. What he’s describing doesn't sound too far off from a demon or other monster, but asking him that is another matter altogether.

“Ah, shame. Well, I think we shift to lesser things now. What of the aftermath?”

Gazef may be honorable, but that does not stop him from gullibility too. He already feels defensive about this man, and so much as mentioning his clear involvement in the duskmared matters of etheric knowledge triggered such a powerful rejection from a man who knows how to act as a slave to my father. Problematic. “A strange way of moving” means unnatural, but he’s afraid to say as such. I think there’s a greater chance she was monstrous than Ainz. I had never before found use for daemonology or infurnaturgy, but it appears now is the time.

“Well, to be honest, I fell out cold after he swapped places with me. I didn’t wake till the next day, but the villagers said that he, his companion, and his creature had left. I left, retrieved the few men that had survived the engagement, and headed back to E-Rantel at the fastest pace possible, Your Highness.”

“How many survived?”

“Of the score that came with me, three. There was a fourth, but he slipped off his horse on the way back and didn’t survive the fall.”

“Harrowing. I’m sorry warrior-Captain. I cannot imagine what it is like to lose your companions in such a fashion. I’ll see that my father gives you and them commendation for this action. Even if the Nobility Faction falsifies in anger at that, I’ll still do it.”

Gazef looked her in the eye, feeling unsure of what to say. Renner watched his eyes wet, blinking several times to clear them as he looked away. No tears split down from his eyes, but the emotional roil within flashed betwixt the edges of his pupils. He opened and closed his mouth, eventually simply nodding his thanks.

It’s strange to me, Gazef. How do you not find this act of mine hollow? It’s a truly useless act. It gets those men nothing. Did they not suffer all the same? Did they not die? Are they not now in the pandemoniums of The Great Beyond? My words now are meaningless, as would be any posthumous honor my father gives. How could you see so much death, and yet consider what I said true? You puzzle me Gazef. We are so distant from each other.

“How could you tell that this was a plot of the nobles?”

“The only thing that makes sense to me, Your Highness.”

“Ah, yes. How horrid that you could say such a thing and I would find it to be with complete verisimilitude.”

“Nigun had mentioned something along the lines of that, a taunt he loosed. Besides, we were sent understrength for what should have been a much larger response. An Imperial breach of the border should be an act of war, not the sending of a single force.”

Where does my brother stand in this? Delkirk and Usamsara are Harlink’s northmost towns, Carne is the southern extent of Bajan’s. Would not one of them not have dispatched a force? Or, rather, since they did not, were they active conspirators-

Renner’s inner face twisted into a smile yet again.

My thoughts yesterday were correct. Neither Lytton nor Boulloup would dare to make such advances on the king, not by their hand; but brother-dearest? Ah, how desperate he must be for the throne; so thirsty must he be for its ambrosias that he would dare to conspire with Slane. Who else has likely realized this? Perhaps no one. If they find themselves unable to draw the true meanings between him, Bajan, Harlink, and his journey eastward two month prior, then there is no chance of it. Bajan and Harlink themselves probably aren’t in on Barbro’s schemes, him simply paying them to not engage Slane. They probably thought he wished to seek greater glory.

“I feel that alone is proof enough, as does the rest of the faction. In that matter Gazef, we are all behind you.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

What an unusually cunning play, which means it's not of his mind. It’s not hard to pin this on Boulloup, but there is a none-too-implausible chance that this was a machination from Lytton. Ah, perhaps I ought to consider marrying him instead?

“Now, Gazef, as much as this was intended as a private council, this was an invitation to tea. Please, eat your fill.”

Tasks upon tasks in the wake of this joining. What advancement is to come from this?