Reunion (Part 1)

Hyumilla reeled in shock as the world around her faded and transformed in the span of a second, the misty basin of the Cirque disappearing and giving way to an unfamiliar, forested environment. Acutely aware of the iron grip still clenched around her slender wrist, she forced her eyes to look squarely forward—as if a single extra glance at the figure beside her could shatter the very fabric of her reality.

Hyumilla could feel his intense gaze boring into her; a palpable tension buzzing in the air between them. The usual cold and aloof demeanor of the sorceress fizzled away, and her mind went blank with an alien sensation of acute anxiety. The seconds of silence stretched on for eternity, until Hyumilla finally felt the grip on her wrist loosening. She recoiled in that instant, darting away from the looming figure as her battle-honed instincts screamed at her to strike the first blow. However, even as electricity began sizzling into her palms, she found herself unable to act—some primal intuition shackled her against her inclinations. And in that moment of inner turmoil, a regal voice spoke for the first time:

"....Narberal Gamma….."

Those words struck Hyumilla like crashing thunder. She could feel her heart pounding vehemently as a storm of thoughts began to brew in the deep recesses of her mind. Something had awoken inside her, but whatever it was remained submerged beneath a sea of disorientation. As she squeezed her eyes shut to calm her turbulent thoughts, a stream of memories bloomed suddenly into existence. One by one, a series of familiar images flickered into her mind….

In the first memory, she saw herself wandering alone in the forest, a blank expression upon her face as she made her way through the murky foliage. Several dark silhouettes began to approach her, but her empty eyes showed no sign of wariness or care. She continued to move in an almost robotic manner, her footsteps crunching against the undergrowth in a uniform rhythm.

In the next memory, she saw herself kneeling in a dark room before a tall figure shrouded in shadow. The figure extended his arms to present a plain mask, and Hyumilla watched her past self tilt her head upward to let the mask slide smoothly onto her face. Her eyes no longer held the same blank emptiness, but shone instead with a kindling conviction.

Yet another scene flashed before her eyes, and Hyumilla saw herself moving through the shadows towards a fortified encampment. She was not alone, however—three feminine figures moved alongside her. Soon enough, the groups reached the walls of the encampment and leapt over them with feline swiftness. A blue flash broke the dark of night, and the memory faded to nothing.

One by one, these scenes came and went—snippets of the life she had been leading in the past hundred years. But soon enough, she found herself witnessing memories that she did not recognize….

Hyumilla watched as a woman identical to her rode atop a large beast covered in thick white and beige fur. Its long, scaly green tail snaked back and forth as it trotted through a spacious dark hallway.

A different scene flickered into view, and this time, Hyumilla saw what looked like herself seated upon a circular table draped in an elegant white table cloth. Platters of tea and pastries could be seen neatly arranged upon the table, not to mention a particularly giant glass of creamy brown liquid. Several other individuals were seated next to her, but she could not make out their faces. It was as if they were shrouded in some mysterious fog. What she could observe. however, was the uniformity of their clothing. Herself included, everyone at the table was dressed in this strangely familiar frilly black and white garment.

The scene transitioned once more, and Hyumilla saw herself standing behind a looming figure clad in pitch black armor. The great, armor-clad warrior tilted his head backwards to look directly at her, and a crimson glint flashed from within the bottomless slit of his helm.

In that unspeakable instant, Hyumilla's eyes snapped open and she found herself staring straight into that crimson glow in real time. From deep within two void-like eye sockets, a pair of hypnotizing ruby flames locked gazes with her. Just as she had felt the morning before the tournament, Hyumilla found an inexplicable mix of melancholy and nostalgia welling up from within her chest.

She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could form any words, a splitting headache overtook her. Hyumilla crumpled to the ground in agony, and the last thing she saw before passing away was the outstretched, skeletal hand of her mysterious kidnapper.

And then it all faded to black.

Ainz reached out towards Narberal in concern, catching her by the arms before she could slump to the ground unconscious. As the Overlord cradled the battlemaid in his arms, his gaze went dull and he resisted the urge to scratch his bony head as he struggled with his own perplexity.

Ainz had imagined several different ways this reunion could have played out, but reality ended up being far more….abrupt. He had prepared himself for everything from a long conversation to a fight, but Narberal had refused to even meet his gaze until the last second—just before passing out.

What's happened to her…..?

Panic and worry gnawed at his insides as his gaze lingered upon Narberal's unconscious figure. He had no idea as to the cause of the battlemaid's condition. Once again, he found himself trapped in a quagmire of the unknown, where his lack of information bore down at him from all sides. He wanted desperately to help the girl in his arms; the pride and joy of his friend Nishikienrai, but he did not know where to start.

Ainz's unseen heart bled as he recalled the distress he had seen on Narberal's face upon seeing him. Back when he had still been the Sorcerer King and proud ruler of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, the NPCs had all seemed so content and secure. He thought he had carved a permanent place in this world for his family, where they could live without the insecurity and doubt that plagued the "real" world of 2138.

But he had been wrong, and that error had separated them for so many years. Even now, when he had finally reached one of his NPCs, he felt helpless and alone. He wanted so desperately to comfort Narberal, to wake and lead her back into the comfort of Nazarick, but he could not do so.

As such, he could do nothing but stay with her. In the silence of the forest, enclosed within layer upon layer of defensive enchantments that he had prepared beforehand, Ainz sat silently with the unconscious Narberal.

After several moments of this quiet reunion, a particular realization suddenly struck the Overlord. In his grief and apprehension, he had forgotten a crucial fact regarding the Pleiades.

...Control Amnesia….

Some time before his banishment, Ainz had decided to alter the memories of all the battlemaids in order to minimize their liability in the case of being captured. That was where the 10th tier spell, [Control Amnesia] came into play.

[Control Amnesia] was one of the many magical experiments Ainz had been experimenting with before his banishment from the New World. Early testing of the spell on Roberdyck and CZ Delta produced fascinating results, and subsequent experimentation on New World inhabitants demonstrated its invaluable use as a tool for direct brainwashing and memory alteration. It proved especially effective as a means of artificially inducing loyalty unto otherwise hostile inhabitants of the New World. However, due to Ainz's caution, only a few significant individuals were rendered subservient using the spell. Instead, the spell was used primarily as a means of "insuring" NPC memories against the danger of capture and mind reading.

As the level and power of the Pleiades put them in a somewhat vulnerable position as agents operating outside of Nazarick, he had decided to use [Control Amnesia] on them as a precautionary measure.

But what would happen if he died or was removed from the New World? Would their backstories stabilize? Or perhaps…

Ainz contemplated Narberal's unexpected response to his presence. He straightened his figure as if coming to a decision. Pointing his bony hand towards the battlemaid's unconscious figure, he muttered a spell:

[Control Amnesia].

As a faint purple glow shimmered around Narberal's forehead, Ainz pooled his concentration to examine the contents of the pleiade's memory. He was greeted quickly with an alarming sight.

In the past, when he used[Control Amnesia] on an NPC, he would then be connected to the core of the NPCs' backstories from which he could then make adjustments. What Ainz observed before him at this moment however, was something he had never seen before.

The stable and intuitive backstory setting that Ainz was accustomed to accessing had turned hazy and uncertain. Moreover, new memories seemed to have been awkwardly circumscribed upon the foggy state of the original content.

Sensing this, Ainz tried to fix the strange state of Narberal's memories. However, her memories seemed to drift away from his magical prodding like mist to the touch. No matter how hard he tried, Ainz could not get a proper grasp on Narberal's backstory settings.

As the seconds passed without success, Ainz drew a sharp intake of breath as he tried his best to suppress the mounting frustration. He ended his spell, and the purple glow faded from Narberal's forehead.

Is [Control Amnesia] malfunctioning really the reason behind Narberal's circumstances? If so, why can't I fix it with the spell? Why did she react the way she did upon finally seeing me?

Ainz gazed at Narberal's pale face, her delicate features set in an uncharacteristically relaxed expression in her unconscious state. Ainz was reminded once more of the things he had lost—the things he must fight to reclaim.

The Overlord contemplated his next course of action for several moments. Finally, with a wave of his hand, he disabled the various protective enchantments he had preemptively set down upon this stretch of the forest. He scooped Narberal's body into his arms and cast a spell:

[Greater Teleportation]

In a dingy tea shop at the market square of the Immaculate Capital, Irisia Kiv Jovarus knelt once again before a crystal ball.

"According to the Supreme Chancellor herself, the red spire spotted in the Draconic Kingdom appeared just as a burst of activity emanated from the Staff. Could this be a sign….?"

The voice on the other end of the crystal ball did not respond immediately. Instead, Irisia could hear her superior whispering something as if conversing with someone else on the other side.

After a brief moment, a woman's cold voice finally echoed from the object.

"You have done well to report this. Will that be all?"

The Cardinal of Darkness gulped; she had been dreading this next part.

"There is….one more thing, Lady Archbishop. The Supreme Chancellor has ordered for a public execution of an individual matching the description of Lupusregina beta."

For several seconds after finishing her sentence, the Cardinal could feel the deadly silence hanging in the air. Droplets of sweat began to form at the back of neck as she waited for the Archbishop's response.

"...you are absolutely certain?" finally hissed the voice from the other end of the crystal ball.

The Cardinal of Darkness shivered upon hearing the icy edge in the speaker's voice. She gave a hurried answer:

"Yes, the information is drawn directly from today's council."

Once again, the Cardinal could barely make out the sounds of whispering on the other side of the crystal ball as she awaited her reply.

"...Return to your residence at once and use the gift we've provided you. Your position here is no longer secure. We will ready the extraction process."

Irisia recoiled in surprise; things had taken quite the unexpected turn. Before she could even muster the courage to ask for an elaboration, the crystal ball's glow faded away, and the lid of the box containing it slid abruptly close. The exchange was over.

Irisia sighed before making her way out of the backroom and leaving the shop. She narrowed her eyes slightly as she realized that the mysterious bald shopkeeper had disappeared in the short span of her conversation with the Archbishop.

The Cardinal brushed aside the peculiar observation in her mind, hastily making her way back to her place of residence.

It was the first time she had sensed such clear unease from the Archbishop. Clearly, the Supreme Chancellor's machinations had struck a nerve, but Irisia knew the true intricacies behind the current circumstances would not be privy to the likes of her.

Irisia sped up her pace in her anxiety, augmenting her steps with the [Quick March] spell. She had a strange inkling that a storm of chaos and bloodshed would soon come to sweep away the relative peace she knew. The Slane Theocracy and the Deathless's tentative stalemate seemed destined to unravel at last.

When that time came, it would not be a matter of which side one chose to align themselves with. No, the key to survival was personal strength. Of that truth, Irisia was more familiar than anyone else.

As night fell, Irisia finally approached the steps to her abode. Since the Cardinals technically received no wages, their lodgings were assigned to them. Each Cardinal lived in a carefully selected location within the Capital, usually in areas where the surrounding security was tightest.

The external appearance of her residence was relatively unremarkable. It was a moderately sized manor constructed from some plain, alabaster-like material. At the front entrance, a short flight of gray cobblestone steps led up to a dark yellow wooden door. The Cardinal of Darkness made her ways up the stairs and into the manor.

Normally, the first thing she did upon entering inside was to activate the magically configured lighting of the interior. However, as she stepped into the unlit crepuscule of the living room, she immediately sensed that something was amiss.

Irisia tried her best to ignore the unsettling feeling in her stomach as she focused her senses onto the tension-filled space of the house. Suddenly, she noticed it. The haunting, pale white iris that glittered from the darkest corner of the living room.

"Welcome back, Cardinal Jovarus."

Upon hearing that silky, dangerous voice, Irisia was immediately engulfed in a sense of dread.

"Supreme Chancellor…."

Irisia flinched as Zesshi Zetsumei's shadowy silhouette leaned forward in her seat, but she dared not recoil, as if she was in the sights of a lethal predator.

"When did you turn?" the half-elf hissed. "During your time in the Empire?"

"..."

Irisia said nothing. Her mind worked furiously to assess the circumstances of her predicament. How much did the Supreme Chancellor know? She might have suspected her after Kareth's death, but when did she confirm her suspicions? Had she been tailed this whole time?

Seeing the Cardinal's lack of response, Zesshi Zetsumei narrowed her eyes with a cold intensity.

"Why did you do it? I plucked you as a child from the aftermath of a Deathless skirmish; they caused the fall of your hometown. You were raised to despise them, so why?"

Finally settling on a course of action, Irisia carefully selected her next words: "Because….it is not enough."

"Loyalty and vengeance….these things mean nothing. That lesson was seared into my memory from the moment I witnessed the annihilation of my home."

"During the first decade in service of the Theocracy, I held onto notions of service and devotion. But it soon became clear that humans are too forever shackled by their natural limitations. The Theocracy could not help me go further—the paltry strength I could wield would always render me naught but fodder in the chaos of the world."

"But the Deathless…they offered something no mortal nation could: the chance to transcend human limitations. To carve a place for myself in the changing times."

As she spoke, the Cardinal of Darkness moved slowly and deliberately to one side of the living room. At first glance, she appeared to be simply reeling away from the Supreme Chancellor, but it would not be long before Zesshi Zetsumei began to hone in on the woman's intentions.

The half-elf stood up without a word, and an unholy sheen flashed across the room as her deadly War-Scythe appeared in her hand.

Irisia burst into action the moment she saw the scythe appear. Her blood boiled and her vision went red as a massive transfusion of power entered her body. Her instincts and senses magnified tenfold, and her muscle tendons exploded with magical power. With the full force of her physical augmentations, Irisia threw herself in a blur towards a tall, rectangular silhouette tucked against one side of the living room.

In that very same motion, Irisia whipped a small stone tablet, engraved with a single rune, out of her sleeve. She crushed it in her hand, and a series of runic patterns began to glow red all over the manor. As the runic formation activated, the very space between the two individuals seemed to fracture like glass, and the very air came to a shattered standstill. .

Zesshi Zestumei's eyes flashed with mild surprise upon seeing the Cardinal's decisive, rapid-fire string of actions. She narrowed her eyes warily at the unexpected runic trap that had suddenly appeared, but her hesitation lasted only a fraction of a second. With speed that made Irisia look painfully slow in comparison, the half-elf shot towards her quarry like a black and white comet.

Irisia tilted her head back slightly to register her pursuer's proximity to her. Her eyes widened upon beholding the woman's sheer power. While the carefully prepared runic formation was slightly offsetting and slowing the Supreme Chancellor's trajectory and speed, the half-elf was more or less effortlessly brute forcing her way through. The spatial quagmire, designed to trap elite combatants for hours, was barely fazing her.

The Cardinal of Darkness frantically reached her object: a tall, quadrilateral object draped in cloth. She ripped off the cloth in a frenzied hurry, revealing a plain yet speckless mirror.

Behind her, Zesshi Zestumei's eyes shone with a fatal urgency as a realization began to well up inside her. With a growl, she renewed her efforts and smashed through the fractured space to propel herself closer and closer to the Cardinal.

Without a second thought, Irisia Kiv Jovarus threw her entire body onto the mirror. Her body immersed seamlessly into the reflective glass as if it was water. Before she could sink entirely into the glass, however, her pursuer finally arrived right behind her.

Zesshi Zetsumei's slender arm shot out like a snake, her iron grip reaching towards the part of Irisia's arm that was still sticking out from the mirror.

But just as her fingers were about to wrap around it, a spurt of blood flew out from within the mirror and the Cardinal's arm went completely limp. Even as Zesshi closed her grasp and pulled, she found that all she managed to extract was a singular bloody, battered limb. Her prey had preemptively sacrificed her arm before the last moment to avoid capture.

Still unwilling to concede failure, Zesshi crushed the limb in her grasp into blood and marrow before thrusting her hand directly into the mirror. This time however, it was she who felt a looming sense of danger. Zesshi tore her hand backward just before it could touch the glass, and the unsettling feeling in her stomach faded.

The peculiar ripple of magic she could feel earlier that emanated from the mirror vanished completely. The Supreme Chancellor no longer sensed anything from the object. It was now nothing but a plain, unremarkable mirror.

Zesshi did not immediately react to the traitor's escape, her black and white eyes glinting with a dead, emotionless light. She drew a sharp intake of breath as she received a [Message].

"Second Seat, Arcane Eye, reporting in, Your Holiness. I have secured the area and have conducted a thorough investigation alongside several members of the Earthen Scripture. We have found no trace of unusual activity aside from one black box we are unable to open. Requesting further instructions."

"Take the box to the Temple of Magic for experimentation. You may disband the surveillance group in the meantime. That is all for now."

"Yes, Your Holiness."

Finally, as the [Message] cut off, Zesshi Zetsumei allowed the storm of fury in her heart to reach her eyes. She snarled, balling her hand into a fist before striking the mirror in a fit of rage. But the glass was far from the only thing that broke. The entire wing of the manor shattered under the force of her punch, evaporating like liquid crystal from the sheer power of impact.

Having released her frustrations in that one tremendous blow, the Supreme Chancellor finally calmed herself. Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, an indecipherable depth permeating her gaze. And then, Zesshi Zestumei turned and disappeared into the darkness.