Ainz sat on a throne he created with his own magic in the secret base of the group Zuranon, beneath the Cemetery of E-Rantal.
The room was cast in darkness, alleviated only by the flames in his eyes.
At this moment, these flames were locked in the two newcomers, Demiurge and Mystra.
Demiurge wore his usual orange suit, his eyes closed in slits with a ghost of a smirk on his lips, while Mystra wore a green cloak that covered most of her body, leaving only her golden face and dark eyes visible.
Those black flames turned toward him, flickering with many emotions Ainz could identify.
Loyalty, embarrassment, and, hidden deep within them, a flicker of expectation.
He wondered why the usually composed Mystra was showing so much emotion right now, but quickly remembered his previous conversation with Nyx.
So she already shared the news with her sisters…
At that thought, he felt equal parts vexed and flattered.
Used to long stretches of solitude, he still felt uncomfortable as the target of these women's affection, and even more so, the awkwardness and pressure to respond to them.
And there are at least 9 of them.
Albedo was a given, Shalltear was a surprise, and as it turned out, Nyx, Eris, Nethys, Artemis, Hela, Thalia, and Mystra also had romantic feelings for him.
He allowed himself a brief moment of panic before his body regulated his emotions.
"Demiurge."
"Yes, Ainz-sama!"
"Go and capture all the humans in this place. Once you're finished, I want you to supervise the transportation of the bodies buried here to Nazarick. You are not to be seen or gather attention while doing so."
"Understood!"
Demiurge stood smoothly, bid farewell, and walked out of the room.
Soon screams ensued, followed by Demiurge's voice ordering them to keep their mouths shut, and from then on he heard nothing else.
Demiurge had a passive skill called [Command Mantra] that allowed him to control beings below level 40 with his voice.
Originally a very limited skill that worked more as flavor text than something usable, it soon proved to be one of the most useful skills for Nazarick after their arrival in this world.
Here, most beings were below level 20, and even the strongest of them were usually in their 30s, so the skill had an almost universal application.
There is no limit to the range or how many creatures he can control, so if he amplifies his voice, Demiurge could very well compel an entire city to do his bidding…
What a terrifying thing for the people of this world.
Ainz knew very well how irrevocably evil Demiurge was. His creator had been obsessed with the idea of evil, so he made sure that Demiurge was evil incarnate.
Were it not for Demiurge's deep loyalty to him, Ainz was sure that he would make this world a hellish place in no time.
But agonizing over 'what if' scenarios was a useless exercise, so he quickly turned his attention to Mystra.
With Dark Vision, the darkness posed no problem for him, Mystra, or the trembling Zuranon standing in the corner.
"Sit down next to me, Mystra," Ainz asked while creating another chair and a table.
She nodded and quickly sat beside him, putting her little golden hands over the table in a gesture that did little to hide her nervousness.
She still didn't know why her master had asked for her in particular, but after hearing her sister's confession, it was hard for her not to feel self-conscious.
She wasn't nearly as articulated as Nyx, nor did she have Eris's boldness or Hela's disregard for awkwardness.
Now, alone with him (she didn't even acknowledge Zuranon's existence), her mind wandered to many places.
At least until Ainz placed an old scroll in front of her.
"These are the schematics for a ritual created in this world. I have already looked through it, but I want you to tell me what you think." Hearing his gentle but firm tone, Mystra set aside her other thoughts and focused on the task.
The paper was old, its texture telling her it had to be at least 200 years old.
The text was written not in ink, but in what she assumed was blood.
At the top of the document, she read 'Spiral of Death', an interesting name, she thought.
Even more interesting was the idea of using negative energy to turn a human magic caster into an Elder Lich.
So, with high hopes, she delved into the text, but as she kept reading, her eyes dimmed with disappointment, and by the time she finished, she was furious.
"Insulting." The word slipped through gritted teeth.
So she's angry.
Watching her mood shift, Ainz couldn't help but smile.
When writing Mystra's settings, he had included a few sentences that served as guidelines for the little skeleton mage sitting beside him.
She is a reclusive sage with an intellect rivaling the likes of Demiurge and Albedo.Through her research, she came to understand all the spells from Yggrasil intimately.Her passion for magic is higher than mountains and deeper than an abyss.
She was the ultimate case of hyperfixation on a single interest.
Someone who took magic very seriously, and would fly into a furious rage whenever someone did anything she perceived as a slight to this sacred subject.
As someone who knew all about Yggdrasil magic, she was the perfect person to review his modifications.
"This ritual is an insult to magic itself. Who is the idiot that made this garbage?"
Her words were harsher than his own when he had first read that garbage.
Huh?
He felt a sliver of irritation seeping through his connection with Zuranon.
It was a petty, frivolous irritation that was growing quickly, soon reaching the point of killing intent.
Proud as he was, Zuranon could still accept Ainz's harsh judgment, recognizing that the other was vastly above him both in power and knowledge, but Mystra, on the other hand?
To take so many insults from a lowly skeleton mage who looked incapable of withstanding even his weakest spell without crumbling?
His ego, carefully cultivated for 500 years, simply couldn't take this blow.
Anger clouded his judgment, and he began to consider killing the golden skeleton in front of him.
It would be easy, he thought.
A single 1st-tier spell, and the golden skeleton would be no more.
But as soon as the idea formed, he felt a great pressure push him down until his face met the dirt.
A fear greater than any he had felt, coming from his very bones, took over Zuranon.
He instinctively looked up, only to see Ainz staring him down in cold fury.
"You dare entertain the idea of harming Mystra?" The words, simple as they were, lingered in the air like a death sentence.
"I wouldn't dare do such a thing, oh Great One!" Desperation took over Zuranon as he started to understand how big his mistake was.
"You wouldn't? Do you take me for a fool?" Ainz slammed his fist on the table.
The air trembled under his fury, and Zuranon had the illusion that the world was distorting around the man, seemingly afraid of staying near him and being caught in the middle of what was to come.
"Pl-Please have mercy on me, master! I won't do that again, I promise!" With no other option, Zuranon threw away his dignity and begged.
Ainz felt a small hand grab his robes and turned to face Mystra, who was looking at him with unabashed admiration.
"It's ok, Ainz-sama. Killing him now would be too wasteful. We are currently lacking capable magic casters from this world, and (how could Mystra not understand who made the Death Spiral at this point?), although he is limited, he should still count as an accomplished mage by this world's standards."
"Humph, you should be grateful for Mystra's mercy. I'll spare you for now since you're still useful, but if you ever do such a thing again, I will grind your bones into powder, restoring you just before you die to do so again and again, repeating the cycle until you understand that your immortality is far from a gift."
"Thank you for your mercy!" Feeling the pressure lifting from his body, Zuranon groveled on the ground, repeatedly thanking Ainz and Mystra.
"Enough. Leave us, and go stand in a corner outside."
Once Zuranon left, Ainz turned back to Mystra.
"Sorry for that. I thought he was smart enough to know his place, but it seems I overestimated him. I shouldn't have brought you here." Ainz felt embarrassed by the scene, but also a fair bit of guilt.
The only reason he risked bringing Mystra here was that he deemed it safe.
She was a level 1 NPC after all, too frail to be safe anywhere besides Nazarick.
He would much rather meet her at her own residence, but since he had to wait for the girl named Clementine to bring Nfirea to him, Ainz summoned Mystra here, putting her in danger.
"Please, Ainz-sama, don't apologize for that," Mystra said quickly.
"I-I was very happy that you asked for me," she lowered her head, caught between embarrassment and expectations, "I may not be good at many things, but I'll gladly leave everything behind and go wherever you are if that means seeing you…" The dark lights in her eyes flickered through many emotions as she stole a glance at Ainz, only for him to put his hand on her shoulder and pull her into a hug.
Startled, she didn't know what to do at first, but still leaned into him, enjoying the moment.
Strange as it was, she caught herself thinking that even magic had never made her feel as fulfilled as she was at that moment.
***
Enri couldn't hide her big smile as she patted her bag full of golden coins.
With all herbs sold, she felt like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
As she walked back to the Bareare Shop, Enri couldn't help but look suspiciously at any bystander who crossed her path, which brought a lot of entertainment for the ones accompanying her.
"You don't need to worry, Enri-chan. With me here, no criminal will even have a chance to get close to you." Lukrut, who couldn't help himself in front of a beautiful lady, engaged in some light-hearted flirting.
"Thank you, Lukrut, and thank you all for accompanying me, especially you, Nfirea; if it weren't for you, I would never get to sell the herbs for such good prices. On behalf of everyone in the village, I thank you."
Holding the bag with both hands, Enri bowed to Nfirea.
She was aware that if it weren't for Nfirea and his grandma's fame, there was no way those proud merchants would even bat an eye at a village girl like her, and even less that they would offer such good prices for her herbs.
"There's no need for that, Enri, I-I-I just did what any friend would do in this situation." Nfirea blushed aggressively upon seeing Enri thanking him so seriously.
"Whistle~ How good it is to be young." Dyne gave a hearty laugh, quickly trying to be a wingman.
"Young? Aren't you just 19?" Peter countered immediately.
"What? You're 19? I thought for sure you were in your 30s."
Hearing Enri's comment, everyone from Sword of Darkness began to laugh, including Dyne.
"Dyne really does look older, doesn't he?" Ninya, who had joined the group at some point, spoke without the awkwardness of a few days prior.
After so many months together, the men in Sword of Darkness didn't take long to adapt to Ninya being a woman, for which she was very grateful.
As Ninya bantered with her party members, Enri began talking with the silent woman following the group.
"I must also thank you, Nigun. Sorry for dragging you around for so long; it must have been very boring for you, right?"
The woman was tall, with short blonde hair. Her face could only be called ordinary, but the vertical scar marring her left cheek gave Nigun an air of an experienced fighter.
Enri had wondered about the story behind it, but never asked, for fear of bringing up painful memories.
Still, she was very curious about it, as she was about why Nigun had dark sclera.
Enri didn't know if this was common where Nigun came from, but she hadn't met anyone with these characteristics before.
Maybe she comes from the same place as Momon and Lupita.
To her, these three were a mystery.
Since Ainz-sama introduced them, she didn't think they were bad people by any means, but they were still very suspicious. Especially Momon.
She couldn't help but feel he was very similar to Ainz, whether in the way he spoke or in his overwhelming power.
Were they brothers, good friends, parent and child? She didn't know.
As Enri continued to contemplate these questions, the group reached the shop.
"Grandma, we're back!" Nfirea opened the door, and Enri felt something eerie take hold of her body.
Something is wrong.
The shop, she now noticed, was completely dark.
Is Grandma Lizzie already sleeping? Was her first thought.
But then the smell of blood reached her.
"Get back!" Lukrut was the first to react.
He yanked Nfirea back. Gone was the frivolous smile he usually wore. Now she could only see tension in his eyes.
The other adventurers quickly made a formation, with Nfirea and her at the center. Nigun had gotten behind her at some point.
"Oh? What took you so long? I was bored to death from waiting, you know?"
Leisured footsteps echoed from inside the shop, growing progressively louder until a woman appeared in front of them.
She had blonde hair, cut in a bob with bangs that covered her entire forehead, making her red, bloodthirsty eyes stand out even more.
She wore armor made of different-colored metals that looked like scales.
On her hands, she had silver stilettos with blood still dripping from their tips.
"Since you took so long, I had to play with the old lady inside to pass the time~"
The woman then pointed to the lifeless body of Lizzie Bareare lying on the cold ground of the shop.
"She was sooo funnnn!" The woman giggled while Nfirea screamed.