Loune Vermillion stood in the tent beside General Carvain and tried to ignore the chaos outside while Leinas was helped back within, a soldier beneath her arm, walking her forward. She fell hard on the dirt in front of them, her knees hit before she fell to all fours. “Y-You have to attack…” She coughed, “It was a trap. A hidden item… but they used it, they thought I didn’t see it, but I did, I saw it break…”

“But… we had a bargain!” Loune Vermillion’s dark robe fluttered when he strode forward and crouched in front of the fallen knight.

“They don’t have the troops!” Leinas spat, “Will you give up twenty percent of the Empire because of three dead knights and a trick?!”

“I-” Loune began to say, his long oval face and sharp chin only a hand span from Leinas. He looked up at the horrified general, his brown mustache wiggled beneath his sharp nose, his short brown hair was bunched up when his hands reached up and grabbed hold of it.

“We can explain it afterward, General! But right now… right now this is on you! Both of you… either fall for the trick and lose a fifth of the empire, or attack and end this!” Leinas hissed.

“I… ah… are you sure this is a trick?!” General Natel Inyem Dale Carvain shivered at the prospect of what the Imperial Knight, one of the Four, was telling him needed to be done. She was holding her throat with one hand, while coughing.

“I saw! Now do it or lose when the Slane Theocracy representatives begin a handoff. That fort hides their forces, it can only hide a few hundred! That’s why they wanted a duel of champions, it was a trick!” She hissed.

General Carvain and Secretary Loune traded lost, hopeless looks.

“Alright, we’ll do it!” General Carvain said and rushed from the tent.

“Praise the gods…” Leinas said with a hoarse voice and let a violent series of coughs spray spittle into the dirt.

“Yes… praise the gods…” Loune said with his head bowed in hushed reverence when the sound of marching armored soldiers and their clinking, clattering, crashing armor hit his ears through the tent.

Raymond watched the duel with great interest, at first, the famous champions were his favorite to win… with good reason. But within mere moments… ‘Those are on a whole other level…’ He realized as he watched the unknown team in the curious metallic colored leather steadily take the four knights apart until there was only one survivor limping back to her lines.

The duel wielder made shields useless. Nimble, chased down and forced to engage, defeated only moments later by the templar cleric. The archer defeated the broadsword user at close range, squashing him like a bug. Meanwhile, the magic caster, unsupported, knocked Leinas Rockbruise into the dust.

‘Unfortunate, but heroes can be raised, if the emperor won’t pay for it, we will… it may take months to make them ready, but we might get some new scriptures out of it. The important part is that the fight was ended without throwing away countless human lives and…’ Suddenly Raymond’s sense of relief was washed away when the Empire’s knights began to march.

‘Maybe it will end quickly…’ Raymond enjoyed the moment of optimism. ‘Perhaps we should have just sent our usual letter of neutrality and disappointment… Maybe I shouldn’t have come myself… I have this sickening feeling like I’m going to be horrified.’ The optimism quickly drowned as new thoughts replaced the brief feeling.

Ainz stepped out of the gate of the fort, his ‘army’ was there in reserve in the event that he needed them… which judging by the Four… he wouldn’t.

His voice projected over the battlefield, “You broke our agreement… this is on your heads…” With the power of his echoing voice, there was no way the Theocracy watchers wouldn’t be mindful of what was happening.

“Very well…” Ainz opened his arms like he was preparing a large embrace, brilliant blue circles began to form horizontally over his head one after another, rising ever smaller into a single conical point… then more emerged vertical to the ground and began to circle his body, and one more began to grow beneath his feet over the ground.

‘I’m going to kill so many… no… this… but…’ Ainz’ conscience tore at him, clawed at him, raged at him… he wanted to gibber and fall on the ground. ‘Summoning the Dark Young… it’s too cruel!’

But he had to stop them.

But it was cruel.

But he had to stop them.

But it was far too cruel.

But he had to stop them.

But they were people, just normal human people who hadn’t done anything.

But it was war.

So he had to stop them.

They reached the base of the open plane and began to advance past the bodies of their comrades.

“Fools!” He shouted with gut wrenching pity, then released his spell, [Pantheon]. He bellowed, and the slowly rushing army and its thunderous beating feet and clattering armor began to slow as a light surpassing the brightness of the sun blinded all living things for a moment.

As the light faded, oohs and ahhs consumed the field as six Cherubim Gatekeepers became visible in all their terrible glory. They were clad in shining white plate armor, armed with a shield in one hand and a lance of flame in the other. The shields were all covered in eyes that blinked as if part of a living thing, they had the bodies of giant men, the head and mane of a mighty lion, with four wings of pure white feathers at an X pattern on their backs. Each of them was as tall as a giant, and they roared as one, opening their arms in imitation of their summoner.

The roar of the lion heads sent life shattering fear into the hearts of fearless knights, and Ainz pointed his hand toward the army arrayed against him.

Hovering over their summoner, the lions obeyed, descending toward the host from the top of Ainz’ side of the slope, their wings beat with the force of gale winds, toppling weaker men and whole ranks fell like dominoes given the flick of a finger.

Lances began to thrust out and pierced entire ranks like a skewer that burned their victims until they were like bits of meat on a shishkabob.

Each time the lance was filled with victims, they were flicked and the bodies flung into those still living, or worse, the lion mouths would open, and the burned, charred bodies of men, armor and all, would be dropped into the waiting mouths.

It was a rout, an utter, total rout. The braver men tried to guard, to raise their shields and shout in defiance of terror, but they died.

The brave and cowardly all died the same, their blood ran together so that cowards’ blood and braves’ blood could not be split apart, the one distinguishing feature between cowardice and courage was that the cowardly lived a little bit longer.

They ran, trampling over the people they called brothers in an effort to live just a little bit longer.

‘Go on! Surrender, damn it! Are you stupid?!’ Ainz cursed at the fool on the other end that did not try to stop anything by giving in.

Twenty thousand became fifteen thousand, fifteen thousand became ten thousand.

‘Oh, there is one… do not kill the blonde woman in black armor.’ Ainz reminded his summons of what he’d been told, but tried to turn away. Finally his angel summons were near the camp, tents were burning and sending black smoke into the air, and nearby out of the corner of his eye he saw a Theocracy cardinal racing toward him on horseback.

‘The bearded one… Raymond, that was his name.’ Ainz reminded himself, and waited.

Raymond jumped off the horse and went down to one knee. “Mighty King, stop the slaughter! You’ve won! You’ve won!”

“They haven’t surrendered yet…” Ainz said, pointing to the burning camp.

“I believe their general and secretary are dead, there’s nobody left to surrender! Please… the Baharuth Empire has always been important in defending humanity! You’ve won… show mercy on the survivors… I’m sure the Emperor will concede… you’ve shown your strength! Now show your noble mercy!” Raymond implored and bowed his head before the unprecedented magic caster.

Ainz breathed a sigh of relief, the slaughter was clawing at his heart, “Stop!” He bellowed, and the Cherubims stopped in midthrust. From where he stood, he saw men laying on their backs, cringing, crying, crawling away or frozen where they were.

Ainz’ voice carried over the open field, his arms still outstretched, staff in hand, he bellowed to them as if he had divine authority, “You are spared by the mercy of Ainz Ooal Gown. Go back to your Emperor, tell him what you saw today… and that I expect good terms to be offered to me within a fortnight. Otherwise my angels will visit his capital.”

“Thank you…” Raymond said in a hushed whisper, “for your mercy.”

Ainz lowered his hands and with a flick of his wrist, the angels vanished.

“Go to your Theocracy, Cardinal Raymond, and tell them what you saw here today. Tell them I have not forgotten that humanity’s defenders happily slaughtered humanity on land under my protection. I forgave it because you did not know it was my own. Consider this our… starting point, at zero. Whether we become allies or enemies is more in your hands than in mine. Think carefully of which you want.”

Raymond gave a quiet nod before he rose to his feet, mounted his horse, and returned to the other observers. They were gone within the hour.

Ainz however, remained waiting, looking out over the sea of bodies scattered over the field, he kept waiting.

Eventually he saw what he was waiting for, a lone figure in black approaching over the field, stepping over the dead, or walking around them, her pace never slowed even when she passed her dead comrades.

Reaching him on foot took several minutes, and it allowed Ainz to appraise her further, pretty enough, tall for a woman, long blonde hair, dark armor, the combatant that faced Arche. ‘Is this some plot for revenge, perhaps?’ It was a silly thought, as she’d done what Arche told her to do.

When she was near, but not ‘too’ near, the woman went to both knees and then all fours, then lowered her face to the dirt. “I am Leinas Rockbruise. Cursed of the Four Knights. I was promised a cure by the Emperor… but he never kept his promise. If he tried, I don’t even know. Please… if you want to kill me, kill me… but I beg you… relieve me of this curse. If you do this for me, you can do anything with me. I will be your sword or…” She raised her eyes and flushed bright red, “If it please you more… your sheath.”

When he understood her meaning, Ainz’ face behind the mask flushed as red as hers, and he was grateful that his role allowed him to remain totally stiff. “Anything you want, anything you demand, my soul is yours… if you will just end my torment!” She cried out and with her face turned up at him, she moved aside her hair to reveal the part of her face that was concealed.

It wasn’t hard to understand why she wanted it. Her face was one rotted and open sore, it had a putrid stink even from where she stood. Though he was sure they weren’t there, it appeared as if white maggots were constantly devouring the gaping space of flesh from her eye to one part of her cheek, and to make it worse, there was a constant buildup of foul yellowish pus that would drip down her face.

Ainz recognized it quickly, ‘A rot curse… incomplete, she must have killed the one to give it to her before it could be completed. Middle tier spell, not especially difficult.’

“I can grant your wish… but it requires your absolute loyalty. Even if it means your death.” Ainz said to her, and she got up to all fours and rapidly nodded.

“I don’t care if I die, as long as I die clean!” Leinas shouted and began to weep at the sound of a promise she somehow knew this one could keep.

“Then follow me into my home.” Ainz said, and the [Gate] opened again, “Your cure is on the other side.”

Leinas was briefly startled when she saw the undead monsters go through the gate, followed by undisturbed members of the team that had slaughtered her comrades.

Then Ainz stepped through, and Leinas practically dove after him.