Chapter 206: ov8
Chapter 8: Flapped Wings
Arathorn Liaqen 2
A single night within these grand walls, and it already felt like he'd been here his entire life. No memories were waiting for him upon the transfer; just the familiarity he had experienced last night.
This had been a conscious decision by his prior self. Rather than relive through the avatar's fabricated existence—something that came with the risk of personality erasure—wouldn't it be safer to just inherit the attributes and senses of familiarity?
What this meant was that, although he never spoke to any of these people before, nor did he have the memories of talking to them, Elgroth's ruler inherently knew how to talk to them, how to act around them, and how to feel about them.
Thus, even with his lack of memories about the past Arathorn and Albedo shared together—barring the ones he had written himself—he inherited the emotional experiences and feelings.
An example of this would be how he instinctively knew Albedo's love for cuddles, despite the information not being included in her bio, or how to tell if she was lying to him, the tell tale signs on her hands and how she'd try— and succeed— to seduce him into compliance.
'But I'm a new man now, such acts of seduction will prove faulty against my ironclad resilience to dark taint.'
Every time he interacted with those close to him, he deduced more about them. And honestly, this explained how in the light novel, Satoru was able to adopt the persona of Momonga with seamless ease. Unfortunately, the man had been too lost in his paranoia to realise that fact.
"Keep calm and let the actions flow through you" was the name of the game, after all.
Arathron let a smile slice his face, watching as the doors to the small council room opened with nary a cry. He was calm and confident, no small part thanks to his marvellous wife by his side. The Elven Lord took one last appreciative glance at the celestial descendant…before walking into the small council room…
The people who had been seated in the whitely designed room stood and bowed at the royal couple's presence, a clear show of not just their grander status, but the depth of the loyalty owed to them.
Albedo…his wife was an enchanting vision whose beauty bordered on divine. Big doe eyes the colour of shimmering ingots rested on a round, near symmetrical face with full plump lips and a cute sharp nose. Her long, jet-black hair cascaded like a waterfall down her back, and carefully parted from her face just enough to maximise her allure.
She was adorned in a long, regal purple dress that clung to her form. Precious gemstones glimmered on the fabric in a beautiful pattern, and the magical lights allowed the shimmering reflections to dance off the ornate walls. The dress accentuated her voluptuous curves and ample assets, so much so that Arathorn was tempted to take her for a third time this day, and have her panting and moaning and unfocused once more…
The scene flashed and a tinge of pain made him wince.
…but, he wouldn't…couldn't really. He was tired and swore, not to mention his testicles ached something fierce. Sebas had advised him modesty while he applied a rather painful ointment on the scratches Albedo had inflicted on his back.
A healing ointment that had been one of the beginner items that had been available to players back in YGGDRASIL. It turned out that its range of uses expanded after the transmigration. The same was true for many of the healing items. But unlike just ointment's minor side effect of burning upon application, the others had gained temporal effects in the form of causality manipulation.
The minor healing potion, for instance, rather than just healing, nonsensically reversed the template of the person being healed to the point where the wound didn't exist. It then created a reality where that wound never happened, before overlaying that template onto the person's current state, thus altering reality.
While initially, that seemed like nothing to worry about, the problem came when one gave thought to what it really meant to erase occurred events. It meant that physical experiences and certain developments would be wiped.
It meant that had Arathorn used the potion, he would have lost the physical joy and sensations he had experienced and only been left with the detached memory.
Worse, it was unknown in which timeframe the potion would model from. All that was known was that it was somewhere within a month's pass.
Thus unless the situation was of great urgency, minor healing spells were rarely used.
Returning his focus to the present moment, the Elven Lord gave a studying look to his closest aides. His right hand, Demiurge Alain Odle, stood at the far end of the side of the eclipse table, the position opposite to Arathorn's seat.
Unlike in the original novel, this Demiurge wasn't an archdevil, but a half-elf who delved in the infernal arts. Like most of the former NPCs present in this Council Room, he was a tribute to the original Ainz Ooal Gown, complete with the last name of his original creator.
The right hand was a handsome man with features that were slightly reminiscent of Asians. He had an ever-present smile on his face and was dressed in a finely tailored suit of black with a white shirt, black tie, and expertly crafted oxfords.
A pair of teashades rested on his nose, further enhancing his handsomeness. And yet Arathorn saw passed through the man's presented facade, partly thanks to his unlived friendship with theDiabolist.
With a skillful application of Analytic Eye— a skill under the purview of Ruler— and a silently casted Flow Altercation on his thought process, the Elven lord was granted the time to decipher the reason behind his friend's oddity.
Slightly drooped shoulders and a reduced sharpness in the eyes were symptoms common with tiredness… Arathorn doubted that his right hand had been having sex all night the same as him though, the man was far too duty-bound…and even took upon carnal pleasure with an efficient approach.
The ruler rushed through plausible reasons before it came to mind: initial research on the neighbouring nations. Arathorn had given the reasons for the council summons after all, there was no way Demiurge would come unprepared…even if it was just a little.
'He probably commanded the Surveillance Unit to aid him in investigating via their Clairvoyance and numerous scrying items.' He thought as his eyes traveled to the other people in the room.
Sitting at Demiurge's right side was Elgroth's Military Commander, Cocytus of the house of Mikazuchi. A man modelled after the original insectoid's character— at least in certain areas. The military was no place for honour, after all, just the facade of it.
Cocytus was a human in his mid-thirties with sharp and severe features. He was an albino with icy blue eyes and short trimmed hair the colour of snow. All these features were in accordance with his insanely potent ice affinity…potent enough that it bled into physical-space without a conduit.
The man was dressed in his commander's military garbs. A plain white shirt cloaked under a dark long belted jacket with gold chains and stripes on its chest, on its interior the long jacket was red. A similarly fashioned pair of trousers was on the man's lower body, along with black boots with red stripes.
A divine-grade rapier would normally be on the man's right hip, denoting him as a Master Swordsman…probably the second-best sword wielder within the whole of Elgroth…and mostly the world.
Similar to Demiurge, Cocytus was a close friend.
Opposite the commander's seat was the youngest member of the council, Mare Bella Fiore, the head of House Fiore and the Agricultural Minister of the whole of Elgroth. The twins were one of the few original members who only saw minor changes from Arathorn's prior self, with only the addition of an age up and the exclusion of the wacky personality traits.
Mare was a boy in his late teens dressed in a dark shirt with silver sigils drawn on it. A long loose black cape coat rested on his shoulders and traveled down to his knees. He wore a similar pair of pants that clung tightly around his waist and his ankles, and a pair of silver alpargatas-like shoes were on his feet, the leather of it hailing from a metallic Wyvern.
Without the shy feminine trait, the dark elf boy stood confident and sure. And if one looked closely, they could see the early showing of a great leader within his heterochromatic eyes.
And still armed with his devastating skillset like in the original novel, the dark elf was the strongest druid this side of Elgroth…and probably the world at large. Such was the genius behind his build's creation.
"Rise, my ministers, for your loyalties and services are acknowledged." He said quite smoothly before resting himself on his seat with a small flourish of the arm that rippled his shoulder cape. Albedo sat on his right side, opposite the blood countess who would have been her love rival in another life.
The seven ministers followed after her, adhering to noble etiquette. And while some of them— it was mainly Cocytus— didn't express it through their faces, it was pretty obvious that the mood was joyous.
"As you all no doubt know, today heralds the commencement of our nation's grand odyssey into the expansive world beyond. The veil concealing us has already been lifted, and our scouts have already moved to survey vast horizons and secure safe passage for our cherished civilians and craftsmen who desire to start anew in lands beyond Velena." Arathorn gave the recap before pulsing his mana and opening small rifts that discarded small documents on the table— next to each person in attendance.
"However, as we are well aware, these pursuits are accompanied by intricacies and a myriad of nuances…" he gestured for them to open up the files, "…nuances like how we ought to approach outsiders and hostiles."
If the timeline kept to the original, that meant that the closest organised civilisation to them would be the villages south of them that had been attacked by the Sunlight Scripture. And while he had a blurred recall of Overlord's timeline events, he was sure that that attack was due today at midday.
Arathorn wanted to save them from that fate if possible. Not just out of moral convenience, but because he wanted to cultivate loyalties within those villagers, and eventually absorb them into Elgroth in the future.
'We can also capture the Sunlight Scripture and interrogate them for information.' He thought.
Of course, the keyword was interrogate, not torture.
"Your majesty, if you could allow me the platform to share what I and the Surveillance Department have been able to find thus far." A calm, slightly eager voice breached his thoughts and halted them mid-scheme.
Looking up, he saw Demiurge looking at him in wait. Arathorn gave a smile. As expected, his Royal Advisor did in fact have preliminary information.
"No need for such formalities, Demiurge. After all, this isn't a ceremonial affair. Speak freely and openly."
The Diabolist grinned and, just as Arathorn had done earlier, opened up a rift near the centre of the table where a crystal orb fell— a recording-cum-projection orb. With a pulse of his infernal mana, the mystic item came to life and displayed an overview map of the lands surrounding Elgroth.
"Upon the vanishing of the cloak last night, I, along with a steadfast cohort from the Surveillance Department, seized the moment to scry and explore the realms beyond our purview for any dangers and to draft a quick map for the initial legionnaires that will be deployed today."
Another row of rifts opened up to discard eight finely drawn maps. Despite himself, Arathorn found that the maps were more accurate than the ones his prior self had prepared…
'How in god's name is this a quick map?'
"Do forgive the quality, though I assure you that we will have a higher quality map this evening with all the western nations and landmarks on it."
Irisviel von Einzbern groaned at Demiurge's words, but was ignored by the rest of those present, save for Cocytus whose frown deepened.
"As you can see, most of the information we had known remains relevant, like the vastness of the Great Forest bordering us," Demiurge zoomed into the part of the forest detached from the rest. The detached section was 146km northeast of the city of Velena. "And the many parasitic creatures inhabiting it."
He pointed at a frozen image of a stupidly large colony of goblins. The creatures looked even worse in reality.
They were grotesque abominations of twisted flesh and malformation. Bulging, bloodshot eyes protruded from wretched, misshapen skulls, bedecked with mottled, greasy tufts of hair. Jagged, yellowed teeth jutted haphazardly from mouths that dripped with brown drool.
They were hunched back, covered in a patchwork of leathery, pustule-ridden skin that insinuated at the grotesque contortions within their bonework. Gaunt, claw-like fingers reached out, each nail yellow and overgrown, resembling crude daggers ready to slash and tear.
Rather than fantasy creatures he had seen within the anime adaptation of Overlord, these things looked like corrupt-touched versions of J.K. Rowling's House Elves.
Many of them were shown fighting each other, clawing and biting and killing, while others were mating right in the open space, confirming the extent of their limited intelligence. Animal carcasses littered the settlement along with the rotting corpses of dead goblins.
Arathorn frowned at the image, and he noticed that the room had gone quiet… Unbothered, he looked at Demiurge, eyes blazing with resolve.
"How many goblins are there in this settlement?" He asked the Diabolist, his tone lacking its usual inflection. Albedo's hand reached for his thigh, comforting.
"4682, your majesty."
The Elven lord wasn't surprised at the exact number.
"Mark the location and send it to the Lost Hats. I want that settlement rendered to ashes before the day's end."
Demiurge gave him a quick bow, "It shall be done, my king."
He gestured for the brief to continue.
"…however, there are some things that strayed from our knowledge." The image changed and showed a section northwest from the city and into the heartlands of the Great Forest.
There was a very large lake shown, and a very dry patch of forest bordering the lake.
"Despite its vastness, this is actually the smallest of the three lakes that exist within the forest," Demiurge explained, drawing gasps from many of those present—Arathron included. He had thought this was the "Great Lake" that the Lizardman, Zaryusu Shasha, had mentioned within the anime.
The Diabolist continued after the shock had passed, "But what I want you to focus on are the dead plants and trees that border the lake. The earth around is dead, which should be impossible, naturally speaking, of course. Unfortunately, we had been unable to find the culprit behin—"
"—It's a Corrupted Treant."
All eyes turned to the young druid, whose gaze was intently focused on the projected image. Shalltear was the one to speak next, requesting an explanation for the reason behind Mare's certainty.
"And how are you so sure that—"
"I'm sure because I can induce the same corruption within semi-sentient plant life and have them inflict the same type of damage. The ability is actually an accelerated form of nutrient absorption andLife Drain."
Arathorn tapped into the encyclopedic fountain of metaknowledge within his brain and cross-referenced it with the supplied data. His eyes widened, finding the accompanying storyline.
'Maybe I should have watched all those CD dramas,' he lamented. He'd always thought them side stories and thus held little relevance to the main plot.
After all, the two he had listened to— Searching for Hamsuke and Ainz Raises Money — were extremely worthless.
"Lord Arathorn, is there something wrong?"
He turned his head to meet Shalltear's crimson pupils looking at him in concern.
"I'm fine," he said with a shake of the head, "I was just reminded of an old folk about a colony of dark elves fighting against an evil tree within this very same forest. I was wondering if maybe that might have been true."
Demiurge let out a soft chuckle, "Funny you mention that, your majesty, because I think there might be some truth to that tale."
The screen blinked again before another overview image showed on the crystal projector.
For the first time in this new life, Arathorn felt his jaw lax…and his hold over his emotions falter so hard.
Within the image was a village sprawled with a sense of desolation, a vast expanse of sorrow amid the towering, gnarled trees. Countless rickety bridges straddled the immense trunks, displaying the despondent effort of a desolate people clinging to their arboreal prison.
Inexpertly constructed treehouses dotted the landscape, resembling dilapidated shells clinging desperately to their host trees. Their wood was weathered and weary, bearing the weight of countless grim tales within their splintered walls.
But most importantly to Arathorn was the near 5000 shadows who roamed, their apparel a mockery of joy and exuberance. Dull shades of plant and hide made up their attire, mirroring the lifelessness that enveloped the village.
Yet even in this state of desolation, the natural charm of the Elven folk was unmistakable to his eyes.
"Mare—"
"I'll have my sister prepare the Aigroqir, Your Majesty."
"No, initiate Operation Green Pool. I want the dragons to subjugate all hostile creatures within a 150km radius of this village." He commanded with a frown on his face, "Cocytus, send a relief detachment within the village when the Gate ports are set up. Everyone is to be fed, clothed, and brought to proper health."
"By your will, my king."
This was a devastating turn of events, throwing a substantial portion of his plans into disarray. According to the light novel's canon, the dark elves should have completed their migration to the Great Forest of Evasha by now. Did this mean that the crucial events that led to that migration had not occurred in this timeline? Was it a localized anomaly or a deviation affecting the entire world?
'Damnit, how much change could the presence of one individual bring?' He couldn't even blame Amata for this… After all, one person couldn't account for every single action in their life.
"Do you mean to subjugate the Great Forest, my love?" Albedo asked in a tone that almost sounded giddy. She rang the small bell that alerted the Guards waiting outside to come in and receive orders.
"A small part of the eastern half if possible." He smiled, though there was still a knot in his stomach. After all, canon just up and went out the window. "Tob is a nationwide forest and probably has a great many mysteries and dangers hidden within."
"Perhaps it would be advantageous to put up a royal quest?" Irisviel suggested, "That would stop the 'dreamers', as they call themselves, from causing any more trouble within the city.
The woman was one of Amata's creations, and his would-be wife had Arathorn not interfere. At first, he wanted to erase the FATE character knockoffs and replace them with different designs. But despite the NPCs being made to be broodmares, Amata had been insanely meticulous in their makes.
What that meant was that they were incredibly beautiful, intelligent and wise, well mannered, and their characters were noble at heart. Basically, perfect women only needing someone to reciprocate their love to bind them too.
Luckily he had plenty of those to go around.
Irisviel was bonded (married) to Cocytus since the latter's character would probably not seek love out of his own accord. And since Irisviel was designed to be extremely fertile— Albedo was as well— there would probably be a pregnancy announcement before a month's pass.
'Well, multiple pregnancy announcements.' He thought. Fertile andHigh Libido was a common trait in all bonded characters within Elgroth. It was pre-activated by Love and took full effect after marriage in the form ofOath-Sworn. Arathorn did this to limit pregnancies born out of flights of fancy or misfortune.
But most importantly, Irisvel was the Minister of Commerce.
Surprisingly, it was Cocytus who answered, "If those cowards want coin then they should join the Legionary or find other professions. Wasting money employing them for Legionnaire jobs would be a waste of time…and lives."
Well, that was an expected response from the Commander of Elgroth's Army, Arathorn supposed.
The dreamers in question were wannabe adventurers, who were in reality just a nuisance to the general public…and the city guards.
A perfect city was suspicious after all.
None of them were really strong in actuality, due to the clash of their conflicting disciplines.
"Cocytus is right, sending them into the forest would only end with their deaths. Though I'd feel bad leaving them as they are, many of them are actually good people after all." There was amusement in his tone, "I'll have Pandora throw money at them and give them access to basic spell books."
"Truly?" Shalltear asked with widening eyes.
"It's not like the royal coffers lack for coin." Demiurge was the one to answer the blood countess, "and if they actually act smart for once they could probably enjoy a life of leisure."
"True, from what we've seen these people seem to be rather poor at spell casting," Irisvel added, seeing Arathorn's logic.
He brought attention back to the topic at hand as soon as the Royal Guards left the room, "Well, Demiurge, do you have any other urgent information to share with us?"
The smile that sliced through the Diabolist's face did not fill him with confidence.
The Saint: We finally get into the AU of the New World. The Dark Elf Village will pave a way into the exploration of Tob forest and the character development of Aura and Mare. I've reached a point where I'm unsure on whether to include the Emmot family or not. Unlike in the OG Enri won't have a major role here due to the lack of her uniqueness. Idk, what do you guys think?
Those characters with unique abilities or personalities will still be included, examples: Lakyus, Crazy girl Neia, Nfirea. Of course their circumstances will be entirely different.
And remember, the MC isn't Ainz, far from it. He will be more involved with the ongoings of Elgroth rather than playing adventurer. Y'all could suggest plot lines and things you'd want to in the future.
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