Arriving at the manor took her no time at all, and the emerald eyed scout was quick to report matters, jumping like a fawn through the grass, she made her way down to the ground as soon as she saw Neia leading the improvised army to the front of the manor.

She snapped her salute over her heart, “Ma’am, Skana reporting, we killed a great many messengers, but those dropped off and larger numbers made their way to us, we targeted those we could, but I had my twelve fall back and take up observatory positions instead. No point in dying for no reason.”

“Good job, soldier.” Neia said as she returned the salute. “How many are in there?” She asked as the force began to array themselves against the estate.

“No way to know since we don’t know how many were in there before our arrival, ma’am, however around five hundred have made it in from out here. All total that big estate could probably hold a thousand, not comfortably, or for long, but if you don’t want a long siege…” Skana shrugged, “We can burn it down.”

Neia grumbled unhappily and turned her eyes to scan the building. “That might save the most lives, but it would cost morale dearly, there are some much loved treasures of this city in there, irreplaceable things, destroying them is easy… but it would sting this city’s memory for years.”

“The city is effectively mine now, perhaps I can get them to surrender.” Neia said hopefully and went close to the gate. She shouted for all to hear, "I am Neia Baraja, avatar of the Sorcerer King’s true justice! You are guilty of blasphemy! You are guilty of heresy! You are guilty of embezzlement! You are guilty of oppression! You are guilty of conspiring against the interests of the crown! You are guilty of the murder of the people! You are guilty of the rape of desperate women of this city, for giving them a choice between hunger in their bellies and the bellies of their children, or bouncing in your beds for your cruel amusement! All of this are you guilty of, and much, much more! But that no more blood be shed, I give you choice of sentence, you may be exiled from this city forever, with nothing but clothes on your backs and what food and water you can carry, or we can fucking KILL YOU ALL!"

"All those who wish to take the former sentence, come out now!" She shouted.

A long minute of silence passed, and a few figures began to trickle out, a few fat priests, and behind them some paladins who, if Neia could read their faces properly, seemed to have simply given up the pretense that they were still agents of justice when they were confronted by the obvious corruption of the people in the manor with them. Neia was moved to pity to see their illusions shattered in the worst way possible.

"Those who are dressed as priests, give them common garb, they are no priests NOW!" She snapped.

"You, paladins, you have seen inside there what I saw, you now know there is no justice flowing from there. The Sorcerer King is justice!” she snapped out and pointed back the way they’d come, “That is not. You will lose your arms and armor now, and walk out of this city as peasants would, but that does not mean you cannot carry the lesson with you. You have your lives, and with life comes the chance to live differently than you have before. Seek true justice, and maybe you can make amends for your support of... that THING!" Neia said, and spat in the direction of the manor.

A few more trickled out, wealthy men who had profited from their crimes or the crimes of others, but didn’t have the backbone to defend themselves personally. They were each identified so that it would be known whose property to seize, and they were similarly ejected. Then, no more came out.

"The rest of you choose a sentence of death?!" Neia asked of the silent house, and an arrow sped towards her in reply. She caught it, and threw it down contemptuously.

"Have it your way!" She said, and they attacked the manor, it was not well built for defense, it was just a government building and a residence, there were many ground floor windows, and the guards, though more numerous, were stretched thin, after the first successful attempt at repelling them, Neia called her forces back, and then changed strategies. She had her archers fire at one broken window, taking down forces there and forcing the guards to stretch themselves thinner to make up for the losses.

As that was going on, she had her forces divided and attacking multiple windows at once, chiefly with rocks and stones, while a group of her elites led by the green eyed scout with the pretty smile, went to the side where cover had to be laid, and had them use ladders to climb to the roof. They secured ropes there, and then lowered themselves to the second story window, and crept in. Not expecting an attack like that, the few in that room were quickly and quietly dispatched, and then more of her team took the same route. Neia made sure she herself was visible and to focus her eyes on only the lower floors, so that nobody would notice her checking the upstairs.

When almost the entire hundred was inside that space, Neia couldn’t see what they were up to, but nonetheless she knew.

They went out the door, checking each room one by one, and eliminating anyone they encountered, when they got to the stairs going down to the main hall where the defense was taking place, they pulled out their bows and announced their presence with a volley of arrows into the enemy’s backs. When they were attacked from the rear, many of the survivors turned and charged up the stairs to deal with the sneak attack, but it was uncoordinated, and it left the downstairs vulnerable, and Neia ordered a second charge, and this time first one window, then another, then another, and then the rest of them, were all breached. Glass shattered, wood shattered, furniture crashed and fell over as bodies both living and dead fell in the chaos. But behind her own, more and more poured in, armored and peasant clad alike. The well armed and those armed only with hatred, began to fill the manor. People poured on like water bursting from a dam, stabbing and cursing and grunting and brawling was everywhere, but the main entryway was otherwise quickly secured.

That left room clearance, and though a few losses were taken in isolated places, there was little doubt about the end, and Neia went straight for the governor’s room, it was appointed with the wealth of a king, wealth she knew he didn’t deserve. She smirked, he might not have been visible, but she was sure he’d be here, so she went silent and listened, until she found the sound of breathing and detected him under the bed.

"Come out from under there worm, or I’ll set the damn bed on fire, I don’t need to drag you out to finish you." She said.

He crawled out after a moment, and was about to stand, when Neia put her foot on his neck. "Stay down maggot. That is where you belong." She snapped and stomped her foot hard on his shoulder, drawing a cry of pain from the worm beneath her.

"I’ll have your head for this!" He said sharply, in what may have been the bravest moment of his life.

"No you won’t... baron..." she said, loading the title with contempt, "because you have violated the justice of a god, you have stolen from the largess of the Sorcerer King, nobody will protect you now, even if Count Handor was willing to look the other way as you saw women forced to prostitute themselves, as your guards extorted coin from those with only one to their name, even if the King himself did not care about his people at all... NOBODY crosses the Sorcerer King, NOBODY escapes the Justice of my god." Her visor was off and she looked down at him in contempt, "I was going to kill you myself, but as I think of it now, I should leave you to the King’s justice."

"Caspond will never prosecute me!" He shrieked, "I’m a nobleman!"

"There’s nothing NOBLE about you, SCUM." Neia said, she leaned over, bending a knee and stabbing her sword into the floor, she leaned on it and looked at him with her eyes of fury, "But that doesn’t matter, because I’m going to offer you to the Sorcerer King, it was HIM you stole from, and when the nobles in the capital learn that you tried to steal from the one who is literally rebuilding our nation, that you caused a riot trying to arrest the guardian of the greatest merchant in the country, just to protect your little extortion rackets and whatever thugs wormed their way here from Re-Estize... nobody is going to stick up for you."

The baron paled.

"You tried to steal from the king of a country who could wipe out an army of almost 200,000 people, who personally killed a demon that was able to slaughter whole armies, who by himself conquered the homelands of the demihuman invaders. Exactly HOW did you see this ending for you?" Neia asked, and started laughing.

As the Baron began to wet himself, Neia drew out a message scroll and called out to Demiurge about everything that had just happened, and she could hear his outrage when he learned that a mere human Baron had tried to steal from the Sorcerer King and undermine his work. "A gate will open immediately." Demiurge said. "Throw him through, I will ask Lord Ainz if he wishes to handle the notification to the Holy Kingdom royal court personally."

"As you say, Lord Demiurge." Neia responded, and as a gate opened, she grabbed the baron by the hair, dragged him forward, and tossed him through.

When that was done, she went to the governor’s primary office, and said, "Someone ask Tinamoc to come see me, there is a lot to get done, and I don’t have a lot of time to do it. Also, someone free the people imprisoned for blasphemy and heresy, and bring them here also, I expect I’ll know some of them, if my instincts are correct."

“I’ll take care of the prisoners.” Skana said to her as she wiped the blood from her sword, prompting a nod of appreciation from Neia. There was a sea of determined faces in front of her as the green eyed scout and a now clean shaven Zagan went to carry out her instructions and the rest waited for more, and she found that she was looking forward to tomorrow.

...Nazarick...

Baron Nigrand en Tusia, regional governor of the city of Prart, landed his face on the other side of the hole in reality, it was an undignified landing, and it hurt quite a bit in his pride as much as in his body, he was already distressed enough, but that was nothing compared to when he saw the frogman standing in front of him, that only got worse, he tried to scramble away, but the frogman simply grabbed him by the foot and started dragging him along, he clawed at the floor screaming to be let go, but no matter his words or screams or struggles, he was dragged on, until he passed through a door that opened by itself, and was bodily thrown forward, where he crumpled like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

He tried to get up, but there was a dark elf child standing there that grabbed his shoulder and held him down in the kneeling position he had tried to rise from. As he looked around, he saw it, death itself, a skeleton wearing a magnificent robe, holding a very impressive scepter, and sitting on a throne that only a god could own. There was only one figure it could be.

"I am the Sorcerer King, Ainz Ooal Gown. And you have chosen to steal from me. Worse, you have chosen to steal from my charity, and lined your own pockets at the expense of my name. What do you have to say for yourself?"

The baron thought furiously, his mind moved like the wind running through every excuse he had ever told himself for why it was OK to do the things he had done. Only one seemed apt.

"They were only peasants, they exist to serve the will of their betters, why shouldn’t I take from them?" He said, attempting to appeal to what he expected was another noble’s greed.

Suzuki Satoru however... saw only white hot rage, he thought of his precious friends, like HeroHero, slaving away under cruel bosses who cared nothing for their wellbeing, who took it as their right to abuse and exploit workers.

He thought of his own mother, desperately working several jobs and still subjected to the humiliation of a lecherous boss that sent her home with more tears and more poverty than before, until Suzuki was old enough to drop out of school and work so she could at least quit that job.

His emotional damper forced him to calm down, but he did not forget his rage.

"Send him to Neuronist Painkill. And keep it going until he dies of old age, make sure that is the only thing he dies of." Ainz said.

...Nazarick...The Frozen Prison...

A few minutes later the former regional governor and former baron found himself strapped naked to an upright rack and an unspeakably slimy monster was practically dancing before him, it held up a small metal device with some nasty looking spines on it, and it was explaining something to him that he didn’t really understand, about her creator suffering from kidney stones. Soon it didn’t matter whether he understood or not, only the pain mattered, only the screaming mattered, and those would continue to matter until his sixty-seventh year of life.